by Renee Rose
And why does it feel like he knows everything about me? Because I laid myself bare to him. Let him in, let him humble me.
I let things go way too fast. He was right about one thing—I was playing with fire.
And now it feels like I just got burned. No, not burned. I don’t have enough information to know to what extent I’ve been used. Or how far he intends for this to go.
I’ve been singed, then.
I reach for a book of matches and turn it over in my hands. Striking matches really isn’t that bad a habit. It’s not like smoking, or drinking or cutting. It doesn’t damage my body.
But the vision of my childhood home in flames flashes in front of my eyes.
I toss the matches on the bedside table. It’s not because he told me not to.
It’s because I’m stronger than this.
This is my choice.
Chapter 8
Blaze
The team is out at the grocery store together, shopping for our shared meals when we get a call, which sucks. We leave our carts while Rocket promises the manager we’ll be back and we jump in the truck.
The fire is another abandoned building.
“It’s the same kid,” Lia says with absolute conviction as she pulls up and lines up the truck with the hydrant.
“What makes you think it’s a kid?”
She shrugs, already slipping out the door. “I just do,” she shouts as she jogs to the back of the truck.
I get on with my job of assessing the situation and giving orders, and I don’t have time to think of it again until I hear a shout and see Lia take off running—without a hose.
And then I see what she’s running after. Or who, I should say. It’s a kid—you can tell by the slender limbs, although he’s as tall as she is.
The teen, who’d been hiding around the corner of the building across the alley, sprints away.
Lia follows in hot pursuit.
Sonofabitch.
I run, too, because the only thought in my brain is the kid might have a weapon and she’s going to get herself killed. Fear grips my throat.
Lia runs hard and fast, but the kid had quite a head start. He rounds the bend long before she does. I catch her before she rounds another bend.
“Get your ass back to the fire!” I snarl down the block. She’s headed in that direction, but if she’s still chasing the perp, I’m going to wring her neck.
Residents come out of their apartments and lean out of windows to gawk at the fire, and someone shouts something rude, mimicking me.
Lia nods and heads back toward the fire, so I retrace my steps down the alleyway, which is faster. Too much precious time has been wasted now.
Thank God the crew already has the hoses going and the flames out.
When we get back to the truck, Lia gets on the radio and tells dispatch to send the police.
I’m pissed as hell. I crowd her against the fire truck and pound my fist against it. “What in the fuck did you think you were doing?” I don’t give her a chance to answer. I’m just warming up here—they do call me Blaze for a reason, and she’s about to get the full brunt of her captain’s temper. “You are not here to chase criminals—you are here to put out fires. When you abandon your crew, there are consequences to everyone. Someone could’ve been killed today because you decided to make up your own rules.” I bang the fire truck again. I sense the rest of the crew behind me, but nothing’s going to stop my tirade now.
“The fire was under con—”
“It’s not up to you to make that call! I’m the fucking captain. I give the orders around here. If you don’t like that, find another job. I need crew members I can trust to do what they’re trained to do.” Another fist to the truck. “Now are you willing to be a part of this team or aren’t you?”
Too late, I realize Lia’s eyes shine with tears. My tongue-lashing went way too far. I haven’t had a female on the team before—didn’t think to dial it back. I also didn’t check my personal feelings for her. My anger boiled up over my fear for her safety, nothing else.
“Take a step back, Captain,” Scott says in a low, calming voice and I realize, with horror, how threatening I must seem to Lia. I’m twice her size and while I’m not touching her, I have her backed against the truck. She doesn’t look scared, though. Just angry and humiliated.
Fuck.
“I am,” Lia mutters, lips trembling.
Now I’m pissed at myself for being the king asshole. I punch the truck again and walk away without another word.
The cops show up and I head over to brief them, even though it’s really Lia’s show.
“Don’t worry about him,” I hear James tell Lia. I guess if he’s the first to console her, I really went too far. “He blows his stack sometimes, but everything’s fine once he cools off.”
I give my report as succinctly as possible, then call, “Burke!” to summon Lia.
She doesn’t look at me when she walks over and I leave to give her space.
When she’s done, I order, “Everybody in.”
I don’t ride shotgun because I imagine I’m the last guy Lia wants to be sitting next to right now. I’ll have to figure out how to fix this, and fast.
Lia
I avoid Blaze the rest of the day. It isn’t hard—he gives me wide berth. It’s not that I’m mad at him—maybe I am, a little. I’m just scraped raw emotionally, and I can’t look at the guy who put me there. I leave as soon as my shift is over and head home, my stomach still in knots over what went down.
He was right, of course. Running after the kid was rash and definitely not what I was supposed to be doing. Still, given a re-do, I’d probably do it all over again. I can’t shake the feeling that the kid needs help. Maybe I’m just projecting my own self onto him, but I remember what it was like to start fires—to crave the destruction they cause.
I don’t know why it’s such a release, but it is.
And I’m fairly certain all three of these arson fires were set by that one kid. He needs help. Because if someone gets hurt, he’s going to have to live with that for the rest of his life.
I change into a t-shirt and leggings and make myself a snack. When I’m done, I sit at my little two-person table with a book of matches in my hand. It’s a new book—every match intact, lined up in two perfect rows. Just the sight of them releases endorphins. I fold one down, debating whether I’m actually going to tear it off. Whether I’ll disobey Blaze and light it.
A knock sounds at my door. Probably my neighbor—it has to be a fellow resident, since no one buzzed to get in the main door. I open the door and then immediately swing it shut.
Blaze.
He thrusts his boot in the door to stop it from closing. “Hang on—just wait. I came to apologize.”
I can’t quite meet his gaze, although I feel its intensity. Instead, I stare at the hollow of his throat, at the stray chest hairs creeping above his collar.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you in front of everyone. I was an asshole. I didn’t mean to humiliate you.”
I don’t move. I still don’t meet his gaze, nor do I let him open the door any further.
“Let me in.” There’s no entreaty to his voice, only quiet command.
For some reason, I respond to this show of authority and drop back from the door.
He sweeps in, catching me up around the waist and walking me a few steps backward until I hit the wall. I push against his chest, but he catches my wrist and pins it to the wall beside my head. His mouth attacks mine in a searing kiss.
“Everything okay in there?”
Crap. Now it’s my neighbor. Blaze came in so fast he didn’t bother to close the door.
“Shut the door,” he barks now, not looking away from me.
“Lia? Are you all right?” My middle-aged neighbor is a nice enough guy—a computer geek who takes care of his elderly mom. But now is not the moment for a visit.
“Yes, please shut the door,” I answer.
Blaze rew
ards me with another brutal kiss. His thigh pushes between my legs, but when he comes up for air, he wants to talk. “You scared the shit out of me, Lia.” He leans against his forearms on the wall, framing my head. “I thought you were going to get shot or worse. And then I just blew a gasket.”
“I noticed,” I mutter.
“I’m sorry I yelled.”
It’s way more of an apology than I expected, mainly because everything he said to me was true. I don’t know what to say, so I simply lift my lips for another kiss. He delivers, softer this time, although not gentle by any means. He slides a hand up my shirt and palms my breast while his tongue sweeps between my lips. I kiss him back, lifting one leg to wrap around him, offering no resistance as he helps pull it higher.
He shoves my bra cup down and thumbs across my taut nipple at the same time he bites my lower lip. “You ever been fucked up against a wall before?” He pulls my shirt off over my head.
“Uh uh.” I unbuckle his belt.
“You’re going to get it now.” He whips his own t-shirt off and throws it on the floor beside mine. “Lifting that leg up around my waist. You’re just begging to be fucked right here, aren’t you, little dragon?”
I get his zipper down, but he catches both my wrists and lifts them up. “Interlace your hands and put them on top of your head.”
I steal a glance at the harsh lines of his face as I slowly obey.
“That’s right. Like you’re under arrest. Now hold them there. You move, you’ll be punished. Understand?”
I nod, my pussy clenching at the word punished.
“Good girl.” He yanks my leggings down and off my legs. I wasn’t wearing panties with them, so I’m standing in nothing but my tangled bra now. He taps my inner thighs. “Spread your legs.” When I do, he squats down and licks into me, feasting on my juices.
I manage to keep my hands on my head for about ten seconds, but when he starts flicking my clit with his tongue, I forget all about the order. My hands drop to tear at his hair, pull his face into my pussy.
To my disappointment, he stands up, tsking.
Smack.
He slaps between my legs, spanking my pussy. “What did I tell you to do with your hands, Sparks?” I scramble to put them back on my head, but he shakes his. “Too late for that. Now you’re getting spanked. I’ll start here.” He slaps between my legs again. It stings and I shift my hips, craving release.
He leans his forehead against mine and slaps me repeatedly between the legs. “You’re going to get spanked hard, little girl.”
“No,” I whimper even though I love every second of it. I’m grateful for this reset—glad he’s here, making me forget our quarrel.
“Turn around.” Not giving me time to obey his order, he completes the action himself, spinning me around and pressing my hands against the wall. He pulls my hips so I’m forced to take a step back with both my feet. “Ass out, arch that back.”
He slaps my ass.
I welcome the sting, the echo of flesh striking flesh that fills my small apartment. It’s all I can do not to moan.
He slaps me again and again, gradually picking up speed and increasing intensity until I’m tucking my tail and dancing my hips away from his hand. “Turn around, Lia.” His voice is rough, lips right beside my ear. I turn and he rolls a condom onto his length. He slides an arm behind my hips and lifts me. “Legs around my waist.”
I love obeying him. In this scenario, anyway.
He lines his cock up with my entrance and eases in. One, two, three thrusts and he appears impatient with his inability to thrust hard. He carries me to the couch and lowers me, pulling out. He turns me around and bends me over the arm of the sofa, spanking me several times again before pushing in.
This time I don’t hold back the moan. He gets so deep, the head of his cock rubbing my G-spot.
“Yes!” I cry out. He grips my hips and plows into me, his loins slapping my ass with each in-stroke, filling the room with the happy sound.
My pussy’s embarrassingly sopping—wetter than I knew was possible. “Please!” I beg, not sure what I’m begging for.
“You need to come, baby?” His ragged voice seems both far away and inside my body.
“Yes! Please!”
He drags my hips back to meet his thrust and uses the moment to reach around the front. One rub of my clit and I come like a nuclear explosion—my consciousness shattering out to nothingness, my body knowing only pleasure, pleasure, pleasure.
Relief.
Joy.
Pleasure.
I forget who I am. Where we are. All the troubles of the day. I just am.
When I return to my body, I realize Blaze is stroking my back, his hips still pressed against my ass, his spent cock starting to slip out.
“I shouldn’t be your boss, angel.” Blaze sounds defeated. I don’t move. He keeps smoothing his palm in long strokes up my back. “It’s not fair to you. I’m going to lose my shit every time I think you’re in danger.”
I still don’t move, don’t speak. He’s finally giving me something—even though it’s just a breadcrumb—about how he feels about me. What I am to him. I notice he didn’t say, “we shouldn’t be doing this,” which would be a more logical conclusion. But he’s admitting he cares about me. And he’s using the future tense—like we’re going to keep being an item.
He pulls out and disposes of the condom, and I pick myself up from my prone position, reaching for my t-shirt.
He grabs it out of my hands as I start to pull it on. “I didn’t say you could get dressed.”
A smile tugs my lips despite the heaviness of the previous conversation. He winds the fabric around my back and uses it to tug me against him, his iron biceps caging me in. “Are you still mad at me?”
I shake my head. “I never was.”
He arches a brow. “Yeah, you always slam the door in my face.”
My lips twitch again. “Okay, I was a little peeved. But mostly I was just embarrassed and feeling awkward. I didn’t want to look you in the face.” My eyes slide away again now, as the sensation returns.
He cradles my head, his thumbs light on my cheeks. “Sparks, look at me.” I lift my eyes to his. “I’m so sorry I came down on you in front of everyone. I lost my head and acted like a bully. I hope to hell I didn’t scare you.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” It’s true. Yeah, he was mad. He’s huge and he backed me against the fire truck and banged his fist against the metal by my head, but I knew he’d never hurt me. Fear never entered the picture. I was just sorry I pissed him off.
Really sorry.
His brows dip. “I dragged you into the deep end with me real fast. We shouldn’t even be hanging out together and here we are in this insanely hot and probably more than a little twisted relationship.”
“Yeah.” The word comes out breathy. “Well, I’m not quitting.” I lift my chin in challenge.
Amusement dances in his eyes. “No surprise there, Sparks. Truth is? I don’t want you gone. Maybe I should look into a transfer.”
Shock makes my lips part. He would transfer away from his station for me? I don’t want him to, but pleasure blooms as I realize he’s that serious about me.
“I don’t want you gone, either,” I say quickly. “And you being boss kinda works for us, don’t you think? Considering?”
His lips quirk, but then drop again. “Yeah, but look what happened today.”
I consider the situation, trying to figure out what would’ve worked better. “So next time you want to reprimand me, you’ll have to wait until we’re in private.”
Blaze opens and closes his mouth and then his eyes go dark. He attacks my lips in one of his signature blinding, searing kisses. “You’re unbelievable, Lia Burke.”
“Yeah?” I’m breathless and hot, my nipples tightening against his bare chest.
“Yeah.” He stamps his lips over mine again, hands coasting down to cup my ass. “And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
/> “Mmm hmm.”
He bites my neck. “Say it.”
I’m wet again. I lift onto my toes to rub my nipples over his hairy chest.
“Say it.”
“I’m yours, Blaze.”
Another nip. “Again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Damn straight,” he murmurs, nipping and nuzzling my face, gentling. “You have plans tomorrow?”
I shake my head.
“Good,” he says. “I want to spoil you.” And with that, he picks me up and carries me to the bedroom, already ready for round two.
Chapter 9
Blaze
I hold Lia’s hand as we walk to the subway. We just finished a CrossFit session together and I’m all horned up for her again, even though I fucked her twice last night and once this morning. CrossFit wouldn’t have been my first idea for spoiling her on her day off, but she told me it would make her day if I came with, so how could I not?
Apparently she’s not the fancy meal type. Or the spoil me at a spa. Not even a flowers and a movie kinda girl. No, this one likes to abuse her body while watching me work out beside her. I’m not sure who ogled who more.
Bottom line—I’m in love.
I’m smart enough not to tell Lia that. I know I’m moving too fast as it is, and I don’t want to fuck this up.
But seriously? This girl is unbelievable.
Is it just about the kink? No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I mean, if she had told me this morning that she never wants to be spanked again, would I still want to see her?
Hell, yeah. I think she’s amazing—smart, driven, adorable. Strong as anything.
But I wouldn’t even know her if it weren’t for the kink. I wouldn’t have seen how willingly she surrenders, just drops her armor and lets me see her most vulnerable self. So yeah, it’s all twisted together. But it’s definitely way more than the sex.
We pass an ice cream stand and she tugs me toward it.
“You want some ice cream, little dragon?”
She spins in front of me and hangs on my arm. “Pleeeeease, Daddeeee?”