Crash & Burn_A Crashing Series Standalone

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  I cracked open a Bud Heavy, tossing the red cap onto the counter. Trudging, I made my way to relax on my king-sized, pillow-topped cloud of a bed, hoping to catch the end of the NY Otters game.

  My boots were about to drop to the floor when my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Bryn: Hey, are you still down to hang out tonight?

  I liked that she was all right with texting first. I hated the games of dating—totally not my thing. Being out of the game for as long as I had been, I didn’t even know the first thing about dating anymore. Times sure had changed since I was in college and single. Back then we would just host a fraternity party and there’d be tons of overly hot girls, ripe for the picking. There was no such thing as dating apps, no swiping through pictures to find potential hookups. I had been so relieved when Bryn took my phone and didn’t play hard to get. I wasn’t good at chasing. I was too nervous of coming on too strong and scaring someone off.

  Me: For sure. Name the place and I will head that way.

  Bryn sent me the address of a pub that was only about ten minutes from my apartment. I chugged my beer, changed my shirt three times, felt ridiculous for feeling uneasy, and ordered an Uber, all in a matter of minutes.

  The drive to the bar was short and uncomfortable. I never knew what to say to random drivers but until my truck was shipped from Orlando in a few weeks, Uber was going to be my saving grace.

  “New around here?” the driver asked in a hoarse voice.

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, just moved here.”

  “Liking it so far?” He looked at me from the rearview mirror with yellowing eyes.

  “From what I have seen of it, so far so good,” I spit out. I had no fucking clue; I’d only been able to call St. Louis home for a few days.

  We pulled off to the curb in front of an old brick building with a blaring neon sign that read: Irish Kevin’s.

  “Well, welcome to my hometown. Hope it treats you well,” his raspy voice chortled through the small sedan.

  At least he was a nice guy.

  “Thanks man. Have a good night.”

  I took a few deep breaths, shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans, and rocked back and forth on my heels. Should I go in or wait for her out here?

  It had been fucking forever since I’d “met a girl for drinks”; I had no idea how it actually worked. More and more, I kept feeling like I was failing at being a grown-ass, single man.

  “Mitch!” I spun around to see Bryn walking up the sidewalk toward me in kitten heels, a miniskirt that showed off an awesome sugar skull thigh piece, and a flowing white tank top her tits were about to pop out of. Holy hotness! Down boy.

  I gave her a quick wave like a damn goober.

  Real smooth, jackass.

  “Hey you!” I forced my tone to get high, hoping that excitement would mask apprehension.

  I went in for a half hug, and it was awkward, but also interesting, and intoxicating. Her makeup was done, she smelled like lilacs, and she was the perfect height to wrap up in my arms, even in heels.

  I grabbed her right hand gently; her forearm was glistening in the yellow streetlight glow from the lotion she’d put on. It was a little puffy, but still freaking gorgeous.

  “How’s it feeling?” I asked, not able to take my eyes off of the artwork on her skin.

  She shrugged, grabbing the front door of the bar. “It’s not as bad as my back piece was, so I’ll take it.”

  She sniggered a little. I wanted to grab on to the sound and hold it close—that’s how cute her laugh was, even though it was so fleeting. The best part was that her smile started at her eyes and took over her entire being, all just from one little giggle.

  Is that even possible?

  Get a fucking grip, man.

  Chapter 3

  Bryn

  Mitch was hilarious—like Will Ferrell meets Jim Carrey, side splitting, I can’t breathe, I might piss myself, funny. From the moment we walked into the pub, I was in stitches. Maybe my nerves had something to do with it, but his light blue eyes, crooked smirk, the way he actually made eye contact with me when I was talking, how he was acting completely normal—like we were old friends catching up, not two strangers wondering if we were going to bone by the end of the night—it all made me surprisingly comfortable, which made me even more nervy.

  “So anyway, to make a long story short, I caught the cheating bitch with my dad’s business partner. It was a fucking shit show and a half, but I’m glad they’re both gone and my dad is finally moving on.” Mitch finished his story, leaning back in his chair.

  “Wow, yeah, sometimes people really can pull the wool over your eyes.” I knew all too well how easy it was for some people to lie, backstab and cheat—fucking disgusting. “Trust me, people are assholes, to put it mildly.”

  “I bet there’s a story behind those words.” Mitch put his hand on my shoulder. “If you ever want to talk about it, I am a pretty good listener.”

  I was thankful for the out and the fact that he wasn’t pressuring me to open up even after he was spilling his guts about his fucked-up family situation.

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The bartender brought us another round of Bud Lights.

  “I have to say, it’s nice to just sit in a quiet bar and have a few drinks with someone I can actually talk to.” Mitch’s smile faded into a hard line as he picked at the corner of the bottle’s label. “Leaving everything and everyone was a hard pill to swallow, but I know it was for the best.”

  “So, why here?” I probed.

  “If I am being completely honest, I would have gone anywhere. Just so happens that the first place to accept my application was here. Right when I got hired, I was gone.” He pursed his lips while thumbing the top of the brown bottle in front of him. There was something big he was running from, I could tell, more than just the crappy family drama.

  “Why the sense of urgency to leave Florida?” When my question registered, his eyes snapped to mine. I probably was digging in too deep but there was no taking the question back.

  He paused and took a sharp breath in. “I was dumped by the woman I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. The thing that sucks is that I knew before she and I even started whatever it was we were doing that she was in love with this other guy, but I talked her out of being with him to be with me. I knew it was selfish, and I couldn’t really be surprised when she picked a famous rock star over a nobody firefighter. How could I blame her for something like that?”

  “Wait? Like actually famous? Anyone I would know?” Probably not the most politically correct or nice question to ask, but curiosity got the better of me quickly.

  He stared down at the bar top as he mumbled, “Maverick Steele from The Hysterics.”

  Wrong time to take a swig of my beer—it went straight up my nose and I started to violently choke as I white-knuckled the edge of the bar. Mitch patted me on the back a few times until I could finally form words.

  “Holy fuck!” Cough—choke—gasp—cough.

  He laughed a little. “Yeah, I would leave me for him too. He’s like sex on a stick of rock star gorgeousness.”

  I blushed a little; I mean, Maverick Steele was hotter than hot and The Hysterics were one of the biggest current bands, but Mitch seemed like such a sweet guy.

  I looked at the bartender, waving him over. “Two shots of chilled Jameson please.”

  Mitch grabbed my hand. “Shots?”

  His smirk was back and a fire was lit in my belly. “Yes, shots. I think you deserve it.”

  The bartender was quick and within a few minutes, two short glasses full of liquid courage were sitting in front of us. I winked at him and held my shot up to his, high in the air. “Here’s to on her—hitting on her, getting on her, staying on her…and if you can’t come in her, come on her.”

  Mitch laughed a little. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  I threw my shot back. “I’m surrounded by dirty me
n all day, what do you expect? Being the only chick in the department has its perks from time to time.”

  “Touché. I’ve got one.” Mitch ordered us another round of shots and held his high in the air, laughing as he said, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this one to a chick I barely know, especially one I am totally in to.”

  “Out with it! I wanna hear it!” I demanded as I snickered, putting my hand on his forearm.

  “Fine, here goes nothing. Here’s to the breezes that blow through the treezes, that lift the girl’s skirt high above her kneezes, it reveals a spot that teases and pleases. Here’s to snatch, down the hatch!”

  I laughed uncontrollably. “That definitely is a good one and I am totally going to have to steal it.”

  “I’d be honored if you stole it,” Mitch said with a wink.

  “So, Bryn, how do you like being a firefighter?” he asked quickly moving the conversation along.

  I shook my head. “No shop talk tonight. Let’s just be two people, enjoying each other’s company without swapping gruesome call stories or comparing scars.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The rest of the time we spent at the bar was a little hazy. Looking down at my arm, I could tell I needed to ice it and get some more ointment on the angry skin. I guess my face gave me away because right then, Mitch asked for the check, handing the bartender his card before I could even attempt to protest and help pay.

  “That needs to be taken care of.” Mitch pointed down to my arm and I nodded. “I’ll take you home?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not ready to go home yet.” My words slurred together more than usual.

  He signed his receipt. “Fine, you’re coming home with me and I’ll take care of you there.”

  I was embarrassed. I was drunker than I’d meant to get. Thankfully, Mitch seemed like a decent guy.

  “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m just a stranger,” I said mostly clearly as he helped me off of my barstool, and just the simple brush of our hands sent desire coursing through my body in an instant.

  “We’re all strangers at one point or another, Bryn,” he muttered, pulling me into his side.

  That’s when I realized how freaking tall he was. I wanted to taste his mouth, but it felt a million miles away. I reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, yanking those gloriously plump lips to mine.

  Fireworks.

  Dazzling fireworks.

  They erupted in my gut as our lips crashed together in the middle of the bar. Mitch’s arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me into his muscular body.

  “Holy hell, girl, you’re incredible.” His lips brushed over mine as he whispered into me.

  We made out like drunken, horny teenagers in the back of the Uber, all the way to his apartment building, up the elevator, and down the hall.

  Mitch slammed me into his door, never parting his lips from mine as he fumbled for the keys in his pocket.

  The door flew open behind me and I went flying into a bare apartment, straight into boxes—falling, crashing, shrieking, humiliated.

  “Holy fuck, are you okay?” Mitch grabbed me, pulling me into his strong arms as he chuckled a little. “Well, I guess I need new dishes.”

  I gripped his shoulders as he kissed down my neck, pressing me against his newly painted wall. “Sorry…”

  “Don’t be. I hated those piece of shit plates, anyway,” he breathed against my skin.

  Mitch unclasped my bra, letting me shimmy out of it and throw it to the side. Then he put his hand in the middle of my chest, pressing me against the wall before dropping to his knees. He yanked my skirt up and pulled my pink thong down around my ankles.

  His hot breath danced over my soaking clit as my knees started to quake. With his free hand, Mitch traced circles over my inner thigh as he gently let his tongue glide over my swelling bud. I cried out from the simple caress.

  “Just wait, babe. You ain’t felt nothing yet.” Mitch’s words were barely audible as his flattened tongue spread my slick lips.

  I held on tight to his short hair, panting and moaning uncontrollably with my eyes slammed shut.

  “God, you taste so damn good.” He exhaled right before forcefully shoving his fingers into my wetness, and in an instant, I was done. My orgasm built up and coursed through me until I was a puddle on the floor.

  Mitch scooped me up into his arms, kissing me sweetly. “I told you, love, there’s still more to come.”

  “Holy fuck.” Not my classiest response, but it was all I could think to say as I locked eyes with this stranger who had just given me one of the most intoxicating orgasms of my life within minutes of us being alone together.

  He laid me down on what felt like a cloud, yanked off his clothes in a drunken rapid fire, and turned me over onto my stomach.

  “What do you want?” He growled into my ear as he gripped my hip bones, letting his pulsing manhood rest on my ass cheek.

  “I want to feel your dick inside me right now,” I answered with a groan.

  He moaned, shoving off of me. I started to roll over to look up at him. “Stay. It’ll only take a second.”

  I did as instructed, hearing a drawer open and slam shut then the foil of a condom wrapper being ripped open.

  His thick head rested on my sensitive opening as Mitch’s fingers dug into the tops of my thighs, pulling me into him. I cried out as he filled me, shoving as far in as he could.

  “Like that, babe?” he whispered against my shoulder.

  I gripped the comforter, gritting my teeth as I sighed, “Oh, God, Mitch.”

  He thrust into me, working my sweet spot perfectly.

  “Come for me again, Bryn,” he commanded.

  His words shot through me making my body tense and pulse as he shuddered inside me, riding out our orgasms together.

  Panting, he collapsed on the bed next to me, tying off the condom and throwing it onto the floor. “I’ll deal with that in the morning.” He pulled me into his big, tattooed arms, checking my forearm. “How’s it feeling?”

  I shrugged. “It could use some ice and lotion.”

  “Coming right up.” He hopped out of bed, walking naked out of the room. I shamelessly let myself enjoy how great of a body Mitch had—chiseled muscles, strong stance, gorgeous tattoos, add in his beard and blue eyes and I was sure he was the perfect man.

  It only took Mitch a few minutes to grab the stuff and be back by my side. It was sweet, having someone take care of me, even in the simplest of ways. Mitch rolled an ice cube over my puffy forearm.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Much.”

  The slow circles calmed my aching skin as I lazily looked into his bedroom eyes.

  He kissed my shoulder, patted the tattoo dry, and applied lotion to it ever so gently. “Good. Now come here.”

  Mitch curled his body around mine, making sure I was under the covers and comfortable before we drifted off to sleep.

  It was one of the best night’s sleep I’d ever had…probably too good.

  Chapter 4

  Mitch

  “Holy fuck!” Bryn shot up out of bed, startling me awake as she yelled, “Fuck! Fuck! Fucking! FUCKKKKKKKK!”

  “You okay?” I rolled over to see her hopping on one foot, trying to get her skirt on straight as her eyes darted around the room.

  “Where in God’s name is my fucking bra?” she looking like she was about to start hyperventilating.

  “On top of one of the crushed boxes.” I grabbed my boxers and got up to help calm Bryn’s freak-out as she scrambled to get the heck out of my apartment at lightning speed. “Did I do something?”

  She whipped around, eyes wide, and grabbed me. “Oh, fuck no! Shit! I’m a fuck up, you’re incredible.” She kissed me quickly. “I was just supposed to be at the firehouse an hour ago.”

  “Oh, shit.” I rubbed my sleepy eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to figure out a way to help her.

  Bryn grabbed her cell out of her purse
. “Fuck. Fuck. Holy fucking shit balls of fire. I am in so much trouble.” I couldn’t help but take in how incredibly adorable she was as she cursed up a storm, scurrying around in her panic. I knew I shouldn’t have thought it was endearing, but it really was.

  She stood in the middle of my apartment, naked from the waist up, hip popped out, tapping her foot. “Come on. Pick up. Pick uppppp. Pick up! Camden! Thank all things fucking holy.”

  She waited while the dude on the other end yelled at her. Even from across the room, his rage-filled voice bit with viper venom.

  “Yeah, I fucking know. Just come get me, and bring me some fucking clothes…please.” She started to pace. “I don’t give a fuck what color shirt or pants you bring. I have an extra pair of work clothes in my locker. Ok, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Yes, I owe you a million for this. I’m sharing my location with you right now.” She grabbed her bra, putting it on. “You’re only a few blocks from me, thank you! You’re a lifesaver! I love you, bestie!”

  Bryn hung up the phone and grabbed her thong, shoving it into her purse.

  “Can I use your toothbrush and borrow a shirt?” she asked practically running to my bathroom.

  I chuckled. “Sure? Do I even have a choice?”

  She smiled at me, shaking her head. “Of course not. But it was more polite for me to ask than demand and take.”

  Bryn left in a flash after stealing one of my favorite Guy Harvey shirts and using my deodorant, toothbrush, and comb.

  So, there I was, left to clean up the mess of our sexcapade. I didn’t have to report to my new station for a few hours, but it could have been a year away; that’s how slow it felt like time was moving. I was itching to get back to work, even though it had only been a few weeks since I’d left my old job. I craved the distraction more than anything else.

  Most of my morning was spent agonizing over whether I should text Bryn or not. I didn’t want to seem desperate, but I sure as shit did not want her to think I had used her for sex and that I didn’t actually like her. After about an hour, I rattled off a quick message.