Burn for Me

by Lauren Blakely

  “I like that you’re a talker. That you give it right back to me.”

  “I love giving it back to you,” she said, drawing up her hips, again, then slamming down on him. “Or would you rather I fuck you hard?” She said, swearing for the first time with him. She gasped at her own use of a dirty word and his eyes widened.

  “Oh you know that’s only going to get me going even more,” he said.

  She pinned his wrists over his head while pumping her hips against him. “Good. I like getting you going. I like being the only one who can make you feel this way.”

  “You are. The only one. Hold me down and press your beautiful body against mine,” he said as she rode him, picking up the pace, building into a frenzy, taking him right there with her, his body becoming an inferno as he watched her move on him. He could barely stand it. He grabbed her ass, then held onto her as he switched positions, staying inside her the whole time as he moved her underneath him.

  “Wrap your legs tight around me, and I’m going hold your hands down until you come,” he said, needing to take charge again.

  She raised her arms above her head, eagerly inviting him to take over. He held her wrists in one hand as she arched her back.

  “Do you want me to make you come soon?”

  “I do,” she said in between pants.

  “Tell me how much you want me to drive you wild right now.”

  “Oh god, Smith. I want you so much,” she said, those eyes dark as she became a wild woman in bed. “Take me so hard I’ll still feel you tomorrow.”

  His senses went into overdrive. His body was alive with fire and heat. Every nerve, every muscle, every brain cell was focused on one thing—pleasing her.

  “I want you to say my name when you’re coming on me, got that?” he said, as he filled her to the hilt, her breath catching as she gasped. She was getting closer, and he was going to bring her over the edge any second.

  “You’re so sexy, it’s killing me,” she said, moaning. “You make me feel so good.”

  She spread her legs even wider, wrapping them around his ass.

  “You know why I make you feel this way?”

  “Because I’m crazy for you,” she said, answering him with words he’d always wanted to hear.

  “God, that makes me so happy.”

  She held on tight, drawing him as far into her as she could take him, and then looked him in the eyes, her mouth forming a perfect O as she cried out.

  “Smith.”

  That was it. Just his name. That was all she could manage, and he watched her as she shuddered. Then again, even louder, as he drove into her, his own orgasm coursing through him, following hers. Then he collapsed onto her, burying his face in her hair.

  Once was never enough. So they went for seconds, and then thirds sometime in the middle of the night. When morning rolled around, he hopped into her shower, and she joined him, surprising him by kneeling down and taking him in her mouth.

  “Best. Shower. Ever,” he declared when she finished, and turned off the water.

  As he toweled off, he stopped to check his phone. He scrolled through his messages casually, then seemed to stop and study one. His shoulders tightened. “I have to get going. I’m late. I have another construction job I’m working on over on Meadow Lane.”

  She furrowed her brow. “But I thought you were hiring some guys to help. So you don’t have to do everything yourself.”

  “I am,” he said, tapping her nose playfully. “But they’re not hired yet, so it’s still on my shoulders. And then it’s my afternoon at the Burn Center so I am a busy boy.”

  “I love that you do that,” she said, as she pulled on a long T-shirt, then sat cross-legged on her bed, watching him dress.

  “So when will I see you again?” he asked as he zipped up his jeans.

  “I’m working this afternoon too. Day shift. What about tomorrow?”

  “What about tonight?”

  She couldn’t suppress a grin. Nothing would be better than seeing him again so soon now that they were together for real.

  “Well, it’s the first night of the festival. Don’t you need to be dunked?”

  “Tomorrow night is for dunking. Tonight I am taking my woman to the Spring Festival.”

  His woman. She never thought she’d let herself go there. But here she was, and the words—the title—made her feel as if a fleet of hummingbirds had taken flight in her body.

  She’d fallen for him. Against her better judgment. Against all her plans to do the opposite. He’d put himself out there many times for her. She wanted to do the same, and wanted it to be more than her apology the other night, more than asking him on a date. She met his gaze, those blazing blue eyes like a clear sky. A spark raced inside her, and this time it was from her heart, not just her body. She looked at him, scared but hopeful because she was going to open her heart no matter what. He’d earned it many times over.

  She walked him to the door, her insides knotted as she practiced the words in her head first. He was about to step outside, but she grabbed his arm. “I’m falling for you,” she said, feeling as if she’d just exposed her hiding place to the enemy.

  His phone lit up with a message. He glanced at it in his hand, then at her. He pecked her on the forehead then rushed down the steps. “I need to go, darlin.’”

  He took off, leaving her on the porch, feeling thoroughly perplexed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Everything is fine. He’s not with another woman. He’s just busy. You didn’t scare him off.

  All morning she was filled with worry. But she repeated her mantra, trying to talk herself down. By the time she left for work an hour later, she almost believed it.

  The jitters were simply new lover nerves. The fact that he hadn’t returned her I’m falling for you wasn’t something to worry about. They were going to the Spring Festival together tonight; they’d play Skee-Ball, have some cotton candy, and then sneak off to an alley somewhere for a quickie.

  Jamie smiled to herself, liking that image. Glad, too, that she’d talked herself down from pointless fears.

  On the walk to work, her phone buzzed, and she removed it from her purse to check the message.

  Her shoulders fell as she read it.

  Hey baby. Can we reschedule? Something came up that I have to take care of NOW. Call you later.

  She looked at the time. It was ten thirty in the morning. What could possibly have come up that he had to take care of now? A fire? God forbid. But if it was a fire, she’d have heard sirens, and he’d have said so.

  Jamie jammed the phone back into her bag. It had to be an error. A missent message. He couldn’t possibly be canceling their first real date.

  Or could he?

  She walked through town, looking in familiar store windows on her way to The Panting Dog, trying to reassure herself that she could trust him. He was reliable. He was serious. But already her heart was racing at a rabbit’s pace because this was her fear. That once she went all in, he’d pull out. He’d love her and leave her like he did with the other ladies. As she stopped at a red light, she noticed a familiar profile at the end of the next block. A pretty brunette. An even more beautiful blond man. Then he opened Cara’s car door for her, walked around to the passenger side, and drove off with her.

  This is what came up? He needed to spend time with Cara when he claimed he was working and volunteering?

  She blinked and squeezed her eyes shut, then open, as if that would hold back the stupid tears.

  “Whoa. Easy there.”

  Jamie lifted her eyes to Becker as she slammed a glass down hard on the bar. She’d just cleaned the glass, and was now prepping for the dinner shift at The Panting Dog.

  “Sorry,” she said, lowering her gaze. She didn’t want her boss to know she was pissed and hurt, though she was having the hardest time keeping her emotions hidden.

  “Whatever it is, let’s just dial it down a notch,” he said in a gentle voice.

  But sh
e had to stay mad. Anger was a shield, and if she let it fall, she’d break down, and she’d deserve it. She was an idiot for letting him in. He had no interest in a real relationship at all. Hell, he had no real interest in her seeing as how he had a perfect chance to tell her he was falling too and he didn’t. This must be his M.O. and now she was on the receiving end of love ’em and leave ’em. Screw their friendship. To hell if they were going to be able to stay friends now.

  But Becker was a good guy and her boss, so she couldn’t take it out on him. She stared at a bottle on the counter, wanting to throw it across the room, watch it explode and take the hurt with it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She was not okay. She was not okay in any way, shape, or form. “Yeah, totally,” she lied and scrambled for something else to talk about. “My friend is moving back here soon. I can’t wait to see her,” she said, trying to focus on anything but Smith and the fact that she hadn’t heard a word all day. She was wound up now, her insides a twisted mess of worry and regret. She’d been played like a fool, hadn’t she? Believing she was special, and being left when it suited him.

  She didn’t know what she’d do when she saw him again, but she’d have to figure it out now because he strolled in the door, looking quite pleased with himself. He held his arms out wide, as if he were leading a victory parade.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, nodding to Becker. “But especially to the lovely lady behind the bar.”

  Jamie took the deepest breath she’d ever taken in her life, letting the hurt that came with it expand throughout her entire body. She picked up the bottle of wine that had gone unopened, whirled around, and marched to the back room to tuck it away. Seconds later, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off.

  “Hey, darlin’, you okay?”

  “Don’t ‘hey, darlin’’ me.”

  He didn’t seem to process what she’d just said, because he reached for her, trying to touch her hair, but she slipped away from his grasp.

  “I texted to tell you I was on my way back.”

  “On your way back? From where? From your construction job? From the Burn Center? Or just from getting away from me as soon as you possibly could?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You took off like you couldn’t wait to leave this morning. You knew this was hard for me, taking a chance like this, and we’re supposed to be friends. You’re supposed to be able to be honest with me, but instead you just left, and—” she said, and like a strong wind that came out of nowhere, all her anger was gone, and in its place were thick hot tears rolling down her cheeks. “Was it all just about sex after all?”

  “Jamie, no, I swear. It’s more than that. You have to believe me. You have to trust me,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm.

  But she couldn’t even trust herself or her own emotions. Because she’d never expected to feel so much for him, and now she felt like a fool.

  “I have to go,” she said and she stalked off, grabbing her bag from behind the counter, uttering a quick good-bye to Becker and telling Kaitlyn she needed to go since her shift was over. She rushed outside, greeted by the laughter and music and noise from the Spring Festival across the street, already underway in the town square.

  She wished it were night, and a dark sky would shadow the tears that slid down her cheeks.

  …

  “Man, I will never understand women,” Smith said, pulling up a stool and parking himself on it.

  Becker chuckled and filled a glass from the tap, sliding it over. “Buddy, I don’t know any man who truly does, so join the club.”

  “I don’t get them. Not one bit,” he said, taking a long swallow of the cold beer. Damn, that tasted good. He tapped the side of the glass. “This? Beer? I understand beer. And I understand fires and how to fight them. And I understand hammering nails into wood. But women?” He shook his head several times.

  “Wish I could help you. I’m happy to try, though, if you want to lay it on me,” Becker said, resting his hands on the bar counter. “After all, I’m kind of playing bartender here tonight.”

  Smith hadn’t told his friend any details yet, and Jamie was his employee, so he erred on the side of caution, not using names. “There’s this woman,” he began.

  “Yeah, I’m clear on that part,” Becker said with a wry laugh.

  “And she wasn’t sure about going out with me, thought I wasn’t the relationship type. That I couldn’t be serious. But we started to get close, and now she’s worried I don’t really care about her in the same way. ”

  Becker raised an eyebrow. “But you do, right?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes. But she didn’t even give me a chance to explain. And that’s what makes me crazy. She took off the first time we were together, and now she did it again. She never gives me a damn chance.”

  Becker started wiping down the counter. “Listen. It’s a new relationship. You just need to be honest with her. Tell her how you feel, and reassure her—”

  “But she walked out when I tried to tell her,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And that makes me wonder if it’s worth it. Or if she’s just going to flip every time something happens.”

  “Was she crying?”

  He flashed back to her exodus, recalling the way her eyes started to fill with tears. “Yeah,” he said tentatively, not sure what Becker was getting at.

  “Then let me tell you something. She likes you and she’s scared. And if you like her too, then you need to go make things right,” Becker said, looking him square in the eyes, man to man. “Do you want to make things right?”

  That was the question. Did he? He was pretty sure he did earlier in the day, given what he’d been up to. He wanted Jamie to trust him, though, to have faith that he was a good guy who’d treat her right. Completely. As he analyzed the situation, he reminded himself that last night was their first real date. Everything was still new between them. They were learning how to be together. She was worried and nervous, and his buddy was right. He needed to reassure her. If he did it now, and proved himself now, they could keep moving forward on solid footing. He’d tried hard to win her heart in the last week, pushing past his own fears about how she felt, what their relationship would do to their friendship, and even about growing his own business. If Jamie made the effort to do a Mad Libs apology and set up a dinner with her sister as a show of faith, then he damn well needed to let her know that she could keep trusting him.

  “Oh, and I know you’re talking about Jamie,” Becker said with a knowing glint in his eye. “I see the way she looks at you. She’s a good one, Smith. Go make things right.”

  He set down his glass on the counter and extended a hand. “Thank you for kicking me in the ass.”

  “Anytime.”

  …

  “Can I have another, please?”

  The small voice rose up to Jamie’s ears.

  “Of course you can,” she answered, doing her best to be as chipper as could be. Her arms were covered in a fine mist of pink sugar. Jamie reached for a paper tube, dipped it into the sugar-filled tin, and began swirling. But her cotton candy creations were a mess tonight. Lumpy and thin and not the pillowy clouds she was known for.

  She swept the tube through the spinning sugar, trying to make an ideal treat for the child, but her hurt was stronger. She pushed hard against the side of the machine, and the paper tube shot out of her hand, landing on the grass.

  “Oh crap,” she said, bending down to grab it.

  “Hey, let me finish,” her sister said gently. Diane started over, recreating the treat and handing it to the child.

  The Spring Festival was in full swing, and a pop band played upbeat tunes in the gazebo, as families, children and couples played games and danced to the music. When the line ebbed at the cotton candy stand, Diane turned to her. “What’s going on? You’re not yourself tonight.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a rough day at work,” she said, glancing away so her sist
er couldn’t read the lie.

  Diane reached for her shoulder. Squeezed it. “Hey. Talk to me. I’m your big sister. I know you didn’t have a rough day at work. You never have rough days at work. You love your job. You love your life. Is this about Smith?”

  Jamie sighed heavily, as if all the tension inside her was spilling out too. Along with the stupid tears she never wanted to shed for him. “You were right when you said to be careful. I should have listened,” she said, hanging her head low.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I trusted him. I let him in. And you warned me way back when. But then I told him this morning that I was falling for him, and he said nothing in response. Actually, he said ‘I have to go,’ and that’s worse than nothing,” she said, fighting back more tears as the band from the gazebo launched into a pop song about second chances. She clenched her jaw, wishing they were playing breakup tunes because that’s what she needed now. “I should have known better.”

  Diane smoothed out her hair and brought her in for a hug. “Smith is a good guy. I’ve been talking to him a lot lately because of the hires he’s making.”

  “Then why did he just leave? Was it only about the sex after all? And he’s not serious about me?”

  “Maybe he had a reason,” Diane said evasively, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

  Jamie narrowed her eyes and stared at her sister, trying to see inside and make sense of the nonsense coming out of Diane’s mouth. “Hello? Where is my sister who told me to be careful?”

  “I did tell you to be careful, and I stand by that. I also stand by what I said about him being crazy for you. Give him a chance. I think the man knows you pretty well.”

  Before she could respond, she heard something scampering toward her, and when she looked down she saw the most adorable furry face she’d ever seen. A German shepherd puppy with a dark snout, pointy ears and huge, fluffy paws. His mouth lolled open and his tongue hung out, giving him the perfect puppy smile. He looked vaguely familiar, like the dog on the waiting list.

  “Have you ever seen a more adorable creature?” she said to Diane, a surge of happiness returning to her, thanks to the little canine.