Rebel: Enemies-To-Lovers (The Firehouse Book 1)

by Anna Joung

  “Thanks,” she breathes, gazing up at me through long lashes.

  Shaking off my sudden rise of emotion, I focus on what I do best. I’m going to show Summer what she’s been missing, denying me for days.

  Summer

  “Are you sure about this?”

  I blink, taken aback. I’m lying on the only piece of furniture in the room, naked with my legs wide open in invitation and he’s asking if I’m sure?

  “Of course.”

  “I have to make sure,” Rebel shrugs. “You have been shooting me down for days. What’s changed.”

  What’s changed? I’ve realized that he isn’t the complete jerk he wants everyone to think he is. Sure, most of the time I want to throttle him but, I’ve gotten glimpses of Rebel’s softer side and I like it. The fact that he’s ensuring I’m ready for sex with him is another sign that he’s more considerate than he lets on. There are more dimensions to him that I’d really like to explore if he’d let me. That won’t be easy because he’s been hurt before, I can tell. He won’t open up without more coaxing and I’m not about to scare him off with too much emotional stuff. So, I keep it light.

  “I want to see what all the fuss is about. You’ve been bragging about your skills in the sack for days.” I grin. “I want to make sure you’re not all talk.”

  His brows elevate and his eyes widen a fraction, but he lets out a laugh. “There’s never a dull moment with you.” His eyes gleam with carnal intent.

  I gulp when he drops to his knees and grips my legs, pulling me closer to the edge of the seat. My legs are draped over his shoulders and he’s still staring at me with such intensity, I think I’m about to melt. It’s still a mystery to me how he can practically light me on fire with just a look. No one’s ever had that effect on me before.

  His mouth moves along my inner thigh, slowly, teasing, until my breaths are coming out in short gasps. His fingers trail over my mound and my pussy lips, never quite giving me what I want. When his mouth is close enough, hovering right over my center, he stops to look. He just stares, until I start to squirm, ready to beg him to touch me.

  I feel my cheeks begin to burn under his scrutiny. I’m glad I did some ladyscaping this morning or I’d be so embarrassed right now. The way he’s just looking is so...erotic. Finally, his eyes travel upward until they connect with mine, and without another word, he sends me into a world of pleasure I didn’t know existed. I’ve been with a few men but none as skilled with their tongues and fingers as this one.

  The first touch of his tongue to my clit nearly sends me through the roof and a few strokes later, I’m ready to combust. He kisses my lower lips as thoroughly and hungry as he did my mouth while his fingers work pure magic, expertly finding my g-spot. Before now, I had my doubts about that being a real thing.

  Before I know it I’m shattering into a million pieces, only saved from soaring through the roof by his arms around my legs. I think I hear myself calling his name over and over but it doesn’t sound like me. I guess this is what they call an out of body experience.

  Floating back to earth after the most intense orgasm I’ve had, my eyes open and collide with his. His lips, curved into a smug grin, glistens with my juices. That’s so hot.

  “What do you think about my skills so far?”

  “Magical.” That’s what that mouth of his is. Pure magic.

  If I weren’t still floating on cloud nine, I’d tell him to wipe that satisfied smirk off of his face.

  “You’re incredibly responsive,” he murmurs, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. My back arches and my breath leaves in a whoosh. He continues to wreak delicious havoc on my body, lavishing each breast with attention.

  “It’s been a while.”

  “What do you call a while?”

  “Years.”

  Rebel’s head snaps up but his fingers continue their exploration between my legs, already bringing me closer to another orgasm.

  “Fuck, Summer. No wonder you’re so uptight.” His teasing smile makes me want to slap him.

  I try to glare at him but I moan with pleasure instead. “How are you so good at this?”

  “Do you really want to know?” His devilish grin is too much.

  “No, don’t tell me.” The countless women he must have practiced on. The thought brings up that ugly emotion called jealousy but I ignore it. Instead, I focus on his touch. I feel my inner muscles clench around his fingers and my toes begin to tingle.

  “You’re ready to cum again,” he whispers. “I can feel it.”

  It’s like he’s wielding some magic that makes my body react to him because I’ve never had multiple orgasms in such quick succession. Now, I realize my partners were just seriously lacking in the sex department. Just as I’m about to erupt, his fingers slow down to keep me hovering on the edge. I moan my protest and he gives me his signature wicked grin.

  “So impatient,” he drawls.

  He keeps me on the verge of release until I’m writhing and begging him to make me cum. He moves then, plucking away the sheet that was covering his dick. Gazing at it jutting proudly, my mouth waters. I thought it was impressive when I saw it the other day, but now that it’s erect...there aren’t words. Of course, his dick would be perfect, look at the rest of him. I’m starting to think he was created in a lab or something. If only his attitude wasn’t so messed up. He’d be flawless.

  Before I start to have second thoughts about fucking my arrogant, manwhore of a male model in my studio, I’m pulled upward and straddling him. I only get about a second to get my bearings before I’m spiraling into bliss again. Already wound up and ready to cum from his finger action, I pretty much explode when he plunges into me.

  Shuddering uncontrollably, I clutch his shoulders and enjoy the aftershocks created by each of his thrusts.

  “You feel amazing,” he says. “So tight.”

  My previous experiences with sex didn’t involve much talking so I’m speechless. Plus, my brain has turned to mush from two orgasms.

  His fingers bunch in my hair and he pulls me down for a searing kiss that nearly melts my insides. The stroke of his tongue mimics the slow, sensual rhythm of his hips and it’s driving me wild. I begin to move, wanting to feel that incredible rush of release again.

  Fingers tightening on my hips, he tears his mouth from mine and groans, “If you keep that up, this is going to be over too soon.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “You’re a wildcat beneath that prim and proper exterior. Who knew?” He grins. “I fucking love it.” Leaning back, he drapes his arms over the back of the chair. “I’m all yours. Ride me as hard as you want, baby.”

  The things he says are enough to send me over the edge. I feel more sexually liberated than I have in a long time. My inhibitions have flown out the fourth-floor studio window and I ride Rebel like I’m going for the first prize at a rodeo. His grunts and groans and the way his fingers dig into the chair as if he can barely contain himself, fuel my excitement. It’s empowering knowing that I can bring a man like him such pleasure.

  “I’m about to cum,” he pants. “I need you to shatter for me one more time. You’re fucking incredible to watch.”

  I’m already close, so his words send me over the edge. I’m floating again, my body feeling like liquid. I’m aware that I’m slumped against Rebel’s chest and his muscles are rippling from his own release but I can’t move. I don’t want to move ever again. I wouldn’t mind staying here forever, with his hard body beneath mine and his cock pulsating inside of me.

  When I recover enough to remember how to speak, I almost blurt out that this is the best sex I’ve ever had. Lord knows his ego is much too big already so I’ll keep that to myself. Instead, I whisper. “I get it now.”

  “What?”

  “Why you get so many women. You're not half bad in the sex department.”

  The rumble in his chest from his laughter feels good and I press closer to him. The logical part of my brain is telling me to p
ull back because I’m treading dangerous grounds. I can’t get too close to him emotionally...not yet anyway, but I’m afraid it’s too late. Lifting my head from his shoulder, I gaze at him, trying to see if he’ll give away anything as to what he’s feeling.

  “Not half bad? You’re a tough critic.”

  Smothering my smile, I shrug. “Fine, you were good.” Too damn good.

  He’s giving me that look again. The same one he gave me the night we met at the bar, that look of wonder. “Next time, we’ll take things slow. There’s so much I didn’t get to do to you.”

  I shiver with delight at the thought of there being more. Can I even survive anything more? “Next time?”

  His brows furrow and he swallows hard. “I… don’t mean…Summer…”

  Still straddling him, I wait with bated breath for him to finish. There’s an array of emotions flickering across his face that I’ve never seen before. I’m so focused on him, waiting for his next word that I’m startled, when his phone rings.

  “I should get that.”

  I dismount him, already feeling like an idiot for thinking one session of hot sex would somehow melt his heart. As I listen to his side of the conversation, I already start to regret giving it up to him after only a few days. I’m just like all the other dalliances, he’s hinted at. Meaningless. Still, I hang on to hope.

  “No shit. Where’s that?” I hear him ask whoever he’s talking to. He’s already dressing and I feel disappointment settle in my gut.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’m leaving right now.”

  Shrugging into his shirt, Rebel turns to me. “I have to go, something urgent has come up.”

  Attempting to cover my breasts, I shove down my dismay and nod. “Okay. Um...will we...you were saying something about next time?”

  His expression is unreadable now. It’s like the man that I just had sex with, who displayed a sliver of emotion has vanished. “I don’t know why I said that. I told you, Summer, I don’t―”

  “Date. Yeah, I know.”

  He shoves his fingers through his hair. “I was going to say I don’t commit.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. He seems agitated and I wish he’d tell me what his phone call was about. “Look, I won’t leave you hanging with your portrait. I’ll come back and finish, but don’t get any ideas about anything else.”

  My jaw drops. What an asshole. Anger rises inside of me like a raging storm. “Why you―”

  “I really have to go.”

  He’s across the room and out the door before I can say another word. Throwing myself down on the sofa, I let out a frustrated growl. “Ugh! I hate him so much!”

  Who am I kidding? I don’t hate him. If I did I wouldn’t have let him touch me. Sitting up, I fold my arms and harumph. I have no one to blame but myself. I knew Rebel was a no-good cad from the beginning and I still had sex with him. All I can do now is suck it up and move on. Surely, my humiliation will fade over time. No one has to know about my lapse in judgment―not even Brooke.

  Then it hits me that Rebel and I didn’t use protection.

  “Crap.”

  Rebel

  Oh, fuck. I barebacked it with Summer.

  I give zero fucks about most things but, I’ve never been that careless before. As much as I fuck around, I always ensure to cover up Rebel junior. Yet, I totally lost my head with Summer.

  Funny how I’m just now coming to the realization that I didn’t use protection, when I’m sitting in the police station being questioned about a crime.

  “Did you or did you not tamper with the electrical wires, Mr. Brand?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, officer.”

  Officer Dave Carol sighs and sits back in his chair. He looks exhausted. We’re acquainted through work so this is pretty awkward for both of us. We cross paths at a lot of fire scenes. Plus, we’ve shared drinks at the Firehouse Pub.

  He glances around, then leans forward and hisses, “Dude, come on just confess and let us slap you with a fine and be done with it.”

  “I said I didn’t do it, Dave. What more do you want?”

  I totally did it.

  The phone call I got at Summer’s studio was from Bane. He’s on his path of being a better man but when he heard Roy Jordan was going to be in town, he backslid. He hates the man as much as I do. Roy is the dickwad my bitch of an ex-wife left me for. The man takes any chance he gets to make my life miserable. So, whenever I can, I return the favor.

  This evening, Roy the douche was having some important meeting and Bane thought we should fuck things up for him. It was nothing big to cut the electricity for the building that we know pretty well, but it still felt damn satisfying. There’s also the hilarious part about all four tires of Roy’s Lexus being missing. That was my idea.

  “Did you remove Mr. Jordan’s tires and where are they?”

  It takes every ounce of self-control not to cackle diabolically. “If I didn’t mess with the electricity of some random building, what makes you think I took his tires?”

  “Because Mr. Jordan said it was you, and as I hear it wouldn’t be your first time trying to sabotage him. He hinted at a partner in crime, so did Mr. Whitlock help you?”

  “You know damn well Bane wouldn’t do that shit, Dave.”

  He totally helped me do that shit.

  The only reason I’m here is because Roy named me specifically and Dave found me at the Firehouse Pub. I didn’t provide him with an alibi so here I am.

  “Come on, Dave. There’s no evidence placing me at the building or at Jordan’s car. If there was I would have been charged with something.”

  “I heard him ranting about you never getting custody of your kid. I didn’t know you had one.”

  My heart skips a beat at the mention of my kid. Most people have no idea. The only people who know about my ex-wife and my son, are my brother and Bane. I prefer people not to know about my personal shit.

  “What does any of this have to do with my kid?” I’m ready to beat Roy’s face at this point. It’s a good thing he isn’t here or I’d definitely be charged with assault and battery… or possibly murder.

  Dave eyes me sympathetically. “I guess he means, being accused of a crime, can work against you in a custody battle.”

  Okay, maybe I acted without really thinking about the consequences. I can’t let this threaten my chances of getting back into my son’s life. Victoria, the ex-wife from hell has kept him away from me for three fucking years. She got full custody when she left me because she could provide a more stable home. I was a bit of a mess when she fucked me over, always getting into some mess. I look around the police station and sigh. It seems, not a damn thing has changed. I really need to get my shit together.

  “I have an alibi.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me from the beginning, man?” Dave scowls and shakes his head. “All of this could have been avoided.”

  “I wanted to keep where I was to myself.” And because it isn’t entirely true. “I couldn’t have done any of the things I’m accused of because I was...posing for a painting.”

  “What?”

  “I’m a model for an artist. I was at her studio until five and anyone at the Firehouse Pub will tell you I got there at 5:15. I couldn’t have done everything I’m being accused of in fifteen fucking minutes.” I actually left Summer’s at four, giving me plenty of time to screw with Roy. If she doesn’t back me up on this, I’m screwed.

  Dave studies me for a while and then asks, “You have a number for this artist?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great, you can wait in a holding cell until she gets here.”

  “What the fuck? Why?”

  “For wasting my time, Rebel, that’s why. I can’t believe you had an alibi the entire time.”

  “What are you in for?”

  I side-eye the man with a million tattoos and shifty eyes. He looks like the type that frequents jailhouse, but I guess it can be argued that I look the type too. “None of
your fucking business.”

  He laughs. “Aren’t you, charming.”

  I grunt in response. A few minutes tick by and my mind shifts to the other crime I committed today. I was a total jackass to Summer and she didn’t deserve it. Now, she’s the one coming to bail my ass out. I couldn’t believe it when she agreed to come to the station. The last thing I want is for her to see me behind bars, though. She already thinks I’m a scoundrel enough as it is. I don’t know why her opinion of me matters so much when no one else’s ever has.

  “Girl trouble?”

  “Excuse me?” I glance at the man sitting beside me again. What the hell is he in for, mind-reading?

  “The look on your face, you’re thinking about pussy. I’ve seen that look many times.”

  I snort and almost smile. “You might be on to something.”

  I’m definitely thinking about pussy. The best pussy I’ve ever been in, actually. Fuck Summer was amazing. I think her pussy has magic in it because she had me thinking crazy―like maybe we should continue with a sexual relationship indefinitely. One taste of her and she’s already become an addiction. I think that’s part of the reason why I said, what I said when I left her. I was frightened by my feelings. The devastated look on her face before I walked out, might haunt me for a long time.

  The man chuckles and slides closer. “I’m Dean.”

  I eye his offered hand for a few seconds before shaking it. “Rebel.”

  “So you’re not going to tell me what you’re in for?”

  “I’m in here for absolutely nothing.” As if I’d confess the crime I’m hiding from the police to a total stranger, while I'm at the freaking station.

  He laughs again. “You’re smart. Never know who’s listening.”

  I lift a brow and study him, wondering what his deal is.

  “Brand, you’re out of here.” Dave opens the cell door. “Ms. Griffin confirmed you’re alibi.”