Hot for Fireman

by Jennifer Bernard

  He skipped out early and went to find John Springer, who preferred long-term hotel rentals to houses, apparently. He’d booked a room at the Days Inn, according to his father.

  Why his father had suddenly decided to help him out, he didn’t know. Maybe he thought years of neglect could be wiped away by one phone call.

  Carson Smith, aka John Springer, opened the door little more than a crack. His pale gray eyes gleamed behind his aviator glasses. “I had a feeling I hadn’t seen the last of you.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Do you need a problem solved?”

  “Yes.” In a manner of speaking, he did.

  Springer shrugged and allowed him inside. His suite contained a double bed, a huge TV in a console, a desk, and an armchair in the far corner. He went to the desk, where a bucket of ice sat next to a liquor bottle.

  “Like a drink? I recently purchased a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. Most expensive Scotch you can buy in this town. I was about to pour myself a finger or two.”

  Ryan’s hackles rose. Had he bought that bottle with Katie’s money? Guys like Springer didn’t back off, or do anything, unless there was a financial incentive. “No, thanks.”

  Springer poured himself a glass. The warm amber liquid splashed gently over the ice. It smelled heathery and expensive. He sat down on the chair and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. His belly pushed against his shirt buttons, so Ryan saw the white undershirt underneath. “Well?”

  “I want to know what happened with Katie Dane.”

  “That’s confidential.” The lenses of his aviator glasses caught the light, so Ryan couldn’t see his eyes.

  “I never heard of a criminal confidentiality law.”

  “I have to protect my clients.”

  “But she’s not your client. She told you to ditch the job.”

  Springer took a hit of Scotch and smacked his lips. “Ditched it is. It goes against the grain to leave a mission without completing it. But she’s the boss. Cutest little boss I ever had.”

  “So you . . . dropped it? No play, no pay?”

  Springer answered with a smug smile that told Ryan all he needed to know.

  “She paid you to walk away, you lowdown scum.”

  “Confidential, my boy, confidential.”

  “She doesn’t have any money.”

  “What makes you think you know everything about Katie Dane? You appear to be misinformed on that point. Her desire to keep the bar intact, and to keep authorities from pursuing the matter, seemed to be worth quite a bit to her.”

  Ryan felt the carpeted floor do a slow roll underfoot. Rage flooded his system like poison. The edges of his vision went hazy. “Give it back to her.”

  Springer rolled Scotch in his mouth for a long moment, followed by a very deliberate “Fuck off.”

  Ryan scrambled to remember some of his anger management techniques. Deep breaths. Count to ten. “Find someone else to rip off. She can’t afford it. She doesn’t deserve it. She works her ass off for that place.”

  “You fucked her, huh?”

  The room went fire engine–red. Ryan lunged at him. So much for anger management. Springer didn’t deserve the effort. He slammed a vicious uppercut blow into the lowlife’s jaw. Springer’s head jerked back. Something hit Ryan’s stomach. He knew it was a fist, but didn’t care. The man’s smug, greedy face needed another punch, fast. This time he went for the nose. His fist came away with blood on it. And now the man was scrabbling in the top drawer of the desk.

  A gun. With shaky hands, he aimed the gun at Ryan. “Quite a punch you have there, son.”

  “Don’t fucking call me ‘son.’ ”

  “I take it back.” Springer’s voice held a placating note. Clearly he didn’t want bloodshed in his hotel room.

  Ryan fought for control. More than anything, he wanted to smash this guy to pieces, send him back to the slimy underground world, along with Zeke and all his horrible childhood memories.

  But he wasn’t stupid. Beating up John Springer would create more problems, not solve any. He dropped his fists to his sides, panting.

  “Why didn’t you ever go into the ring?” Springer looked genuinely curious. “Good way to channel your anger. We could have made a fortune off you.”

  “Why didn’t you go into the weaselly criminal business?”

  Springer held the gun steady. “As you can see, I did. I’m not ashamed. And I have no intention of giving anyone their money back. The capitalist system is growing on me.”

  “You’re not going to shoot me, jackass. The last thing you want is the police investigating a shooting in your hotel room.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t want to shoot you. But I don’t want any more whacks to the face either.” He wiped away a trickle of blood. To Ryan’s expert eye, it could have been worse. He’d inflicted some pain, but hadn’t even broken the man’s nose. “Your gallantry is endearing, if you aren’t on my end of it, but may I suggest to you that Ms. Katie Dane is a grown woman making her own decisions. It’s the twenty-first century, my boy. Women can vote, run for office, and even hire criminals if they so choose. Does she know you’re here?”

  Ryan stared at him. He despised the man, hated how he’d popped up from the past like a jack-in-the-box in aviator glasses. Hated how he sounded so educated, how he’d learned certain skills and decided to create mayhem with them. And yet, he had a damn good point. Katie wouldn’t want him here. She’d specifically told him to stay out of it.

  Now that the adrenaline of rage was fading, he cursed himself for losing it like that. He’d better go before the man said anything else to piss him off.

  “I’m leaving now, but if I see you anywhere near Katie again, or the bar, I will get violent. And I won’t hold back.”

  He waited until John Springer acknowledged that statement, then left.

  Instead of taking the elevator, he jogged down the stairs from the fifth floor, using the time to chill down. What a pointless fucking thing. He’d made Springer’s nose bleed, but he hadn’t gotten Katie’s money back. He might have even made matters worse by barging into the middle of Katie’s business. Guys like Springer—like his father—could be vengeful.

  Should he tell Katie what he’d done? Warn her that Springer might try to pull something else? She’d be furious with him. But at least she’d be on guard.

  He reached the side door of the Days Inn and burst out into the sunshine. In the last few days, he’d withheld information about an act of arson from Captain Brody. He’d nearly run into a still burning building. And he’d punched out a criminal.

  Had he learned nothing in his year and a half off? Did he even deserve to get his job back?

  “Why’d you pay him to stop? Doesn’t seem right.” Doug slouched over the counter and fixed his reddened eyes on Katie. Reddened as in stoned. She knew the signs. Just what she needed, Doug smoking weed again. When he smoked, he went off his mood stabilizers. Perfect.

  “Because I wanted him to stop. It’s too dangerous. It’s too stupid. Pick an adjective, it’ll work.”

  Bleary-eyed from the long, busy day, she wiped the counter down. Todd and Jake had already left. Ryan had taken off before the end of his shift. She really wanted to go home, draw herself a hot bath, and watch mindless TV. Fear Factor reruns or something cheerful like that.

  Or maybe Ryan would be there, winking up at her from the depths of the beanbag chair. Naked. Aroused. Wanting her.

  Doug was still talking. “But what about the insurance?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Did you tell your father?”

  “No. And don’t you dare say a word.”

  Doug shrugged. “All he talks about is his gnomes anyway.” He gave a squeaky giggle. “Little dudes creep me out. It’s like they’re watching you.”

  Katie loaded the last glasses into the dishwasher. She went into the kitchen to lock the brand-new back door. Her brothers had installed it yesterday, w
hen it turned out simply nailing up a board wouldn’t satisfy the fire department. They needed a working back door in case of fire.

  Fire. It always came down to fire.

  She took a moment to enjoy the silence of the empty, ravaged kitchen. For an antisocial person, she’d spent a lot of time in the company of other people today. Maybe when she went back out front, Doug would be gone.

  No such luck. He drummed his fingers on the bar, suddenly much more alert. “It’s because of that dude. The bartender,” he accused as she walked through the swinging door.

  “What is?”

  “Calling off the professional. You did it because of him.”

  “What makes you think he has anything to do with it?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes when I get stoned I see shit I missed before. We stopped setting the fires ourselves after he caught you.”

  “Well, he’s a fireman. He said it was dangerous. He was right.”

  “He’s a fireman?”

  She bit her lip. She hadn’t intended to tell Doug about that. It was Ryan’s business, not hers. But her brain was too exhausted to keep everything straight. Things like who knew what about whom.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “You’re into him, aren’t you?”

  Damn, maybe he did see more stoned. “Let it go, Doug.”

  “I have a right to know.” He pounded his fist on the bar like a drunken politician. “I have rights. Exes have rights. There oughta be a law. Maybe there is. If there isn’t a law, I’m going to make one. Ex’s rights. Ignore us at your p-p-peril. My dad could sue.”

  Oh for Pete’s sake. She stomped into the office to grab her backpack. She didn’t want to fight with Doug. Really, she didn’t.

  “Do you have a crush on him? Are you hoping he’ll notice you if you do what he says? Cuz that’s just pathetic, Katie. I’m sort of embarrassed for you.”

  She slung her backpack over her shoulder and kicked up the pass-through. It slapped open with a satisfying clank. “For your information, Ryan and I have had sex. Great sex. More than once. So I think he’s ‘noticed’ me.”

  Doug’s disbelieving look did nothing for her ego.

  “In fact, he’s waiting for me right now. So if you want to call that ‘pathetic,’ go right ahead. I call it fun. And I deserve some fun. Yes, I do. Ignore that at your peril.”

  It would have been a grand exit, except for the fact that she had to hold the door open for him to leave. He skulked out, giving her sullen, uncomprehending looks as though she’d suddenly turned into a skunk.

  “Good night, Doug.” And good-bye, she thought as she headed away from the bar. Surely Doug would finally, finally get the message. She’d pay him ten thousand dollars to go away, if she still had any money.

  She started up her car. But strangely enough, it didn’t drive toward her bathtub and TV. All on its own, it headed for Ryan’s house. She was too tired to object.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A sleepy-eyed Ryan enfolded her in his strong arms, cushioned her against his bare chest, and carried her into his bedroom. They toppled onto the bed and into a deep sleep. Katie’s last thought before blessed darkness enclosed her was that heaven contained mussed bedcovers and a naked Ryan.

  Who knew?

  In the middle of the night, she came vaguely awake to feel his hands moving across her body. He stroked the curve of her waist, the little hidden nook under her hipbone, and tangled his fingers in the nest of hair below. She opened to him like a sleepy flower under the touch of the sun.

  “Ryan,” she whispered.

  “Mmm.” His answer came from the middle of her body, just before his warm tongue flicked at the sensitive knot of flesh.

  “Oh!” She started, fully awake now. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, shocked by the sensations vaulting through her nervous system. Opening her mouth to tell him to stop, she surprised herself with a moan. She didn’t like this sort of thing. It felt uncomfortable and embarrassing.

  But whatever Ryan was doing with his mouth definitely didn’t feel uncomfortable. She pushed her hips toward him. Would he laugh at her obvious demonstration of want? She felt so vulnerable like this, her thighs trembling, legs falling open, hands clutching at his hair. But he didn’t seem to mind. He gripped her ass with his strong hands and lifted her closer to his mouth. And then something hot and hard was entering into her—oh my God, his finger, delving inside and finding just the right spot, a spot she didn’t know existed. White waves of heat scorched across her vision.

  “Ryan.” She shrieked the word. “I can’t, I can’t . . .” And then whatever it was she couldn’t do—she was doing, flying like a rocket ship through an endless universe. She knew her body rocked and bucked against his mouth. But what happened to her body was out of her hands. Ryan was in charge.

  And Ryan knew just what to do. While the spasms still fluttered through her, he lifted himself up and plunged deep inside her. She groaned at the sensation of being filled and spread open, shattered and remade. She moved against him, meeting each stroke with hot urgency. In the shadowed room, he was a dark figure, each tense line of his body screaming his desire for her.

  God, she loved that. Loved that he wanted her. Loved how he touched her. It made her crazy. A strong bolt of emotion crashed through her, and she threw herself into the rhythm they were creating together, the thrust and withdrawal, stroke and parry, until another shattering orgasm rocked through her. She held tight to his sweaty back, feeling his muscles clench and tense. He gave a deep, gut-level groan, then went still. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he pumped into her. A sense of glory filled her. Nothing in her life had ever felt like this.

  Ryan collapsed next to her, breathing as heavily as if he’d just run a marathon. “Holy crap,” he rasped.

  She gave an exhausted giggle. “You can say that again.”

  “Seriously.” He raised himself on one elbow and peered at her in the darkness. “That’s not normal. Sex doesn’t usually feel like that. Does it?”

  “Um . . . I’m the wrong person to ask,” she said. “I don’t have much experience.” The truth was the truth, embarrassing though it might be. She stroked the sweat-soaked hair on his chest. “All I know is . . .” She searched for the right words to compliment his lovemaking. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  She winced at her heartfelt tone. Now he’d probably guess at her feelings for him, her hopeless, juvenile crush.

  “I can’t remember feeling like this either,” he said in an odd tone. “Strange.”

  She scrutinized his face, which looked mysterious and unreadable in the darkness. “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” he said after a moment. He gave her a puzzled look, then shook it off. “Better get some sleep. You were dead on your feet when you got here.”

  He nestled her back under the covers.

  As if she’d be able to sleep, after that mind-blowing experience. But a delicious drowsiness stole the thought away.

  Ryan waited until Katie was fast asleep once again, then cuddled the blankets around her and got out of bed. He had to clear his head. Get a grip on what had happened. He’d had lots of sex in his time. He’d started at the age of fourteen, in the bed of the local pizza shop waitress. He’d never looked back. He loved sex. Loved women. But never had sex touched him as deeply as it had with Katie. Never had it sent energy soaring through him like this. He felt like Superman. Like Tarzan. Like he could rule the world.

  What the fuck?

  He stood in the kitchen in his boxers, scratching his stomach. He thought of Katie curled up in his bed, a slim lump under his sheets, and a sense of well-being flooded him. It felt good to know Katie was close by. Near enough so he could ravage her again if he felt the urge. Or tickle her until she woke up and glared at him. Or tease her until she turned pink and started shooting insults back at him.

  The thing about Katie was, she didn’t hide
anything. You never had to worry about hidden agendas. Katie was Katie, down to her bones, to the tips of her toes. And she was loyal. Look at how she tried to do her best for her family. Even if she had some sketchy ideas about what was “best.”

  He chuckled. Katie had a way of making him laugh more than any girl he’d ever known. He had more fun hanging around her than he did with his firehouse buddies. And that was saying a lot. With Katie he didn’t have to hide anything. She didn’t, so why should he?

  Maybe that’s why sex with her felt different than with anyone else. Because they were such good friends.

  Yes, that must be it.

  Relieved by that conclusion, he decided to make himself a snack. Maybe a grilled cheese sandwich or some nachos. Then he spotted his study manual on the table. Why not channel some of this late night energy into something useful? His exam was scheduled for later the next day, after all. He bounded toward the book and settled down to study.

  Around seven in the morning, Katie stumbled into the kitchen. She blinked at him in the bright morning light, her dark eyes still blurred from sleep, her yesterday’s clothes rumpled. Her shirt was buttoned wrong. His heart gave an unnerving little jump.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Cramming. I got my test today.”

  “Oh.” A shadow fell over her face. “I’d better go.”

  “What about breakfast?”

  “I’ll eat at my parents. We have that, you know, that welcome home/goodbye party for my brothers today. They’re leaving soon. I should help get ready.” She turned to go.

  Ryan felt something close to panic. “But wait. Where is it? The party?”

  “You don’t have to go,” she tossed over her shoulder. “It’s stupid. Really. And you have your test today. In fact, you should take the day off from work too.”

  He stared after her. He didn’t like this habit of hers, the way she kept walking off after sex. “Wait!” He jumped up and ran after her, catching her just inside the front door. “Is something wrong? Why the cold shoulder?”