by Kade, Teagan
The familiar feeling of heat and pleasure builds in my core, coiling and threatening to snap at any moment and push me over.
As if he’s reading my mind, his hand is in my hair. He tugs, thrusting up into me harder, hips slamming into mine with sinful friction until sweet release washes over me.
My orgasm ebbs through me in waves of unrelenting pleasure. I cry out against his skin, nails at his back and back arching into the hard angles of his body.
He keeps fucking me right through it, sending another burst of pleasure free as release takes me again. This time, it breaks his resolve. His movements become erratic. With one final, desperate thrust, he comes with a caught moan, his cock spilling hot and wet into my molten core.
We lay there for a moment and catch our breath. Our bodies may be still but our hands and lips are still dancing along our skin, soft sighs and hushed laughter escaping them.
He flops onto his side and pulls me into him, my back against his chest as he murmurs praise into my skin and kisses the back of my neck.
“I love you, Beth,” he whispers, peppering kisses along the back of my neck and shoulder.
It sends shivers down my spine. A contented sigh escapes my lips, his arm reaching around me to take my hand into his, hugging me tight.
“I love you, too,” I reply, the words sounding right.
I don’t know how long we lie there like that, but soon the familiar pull of sleep tugs at my mind. I close my eyes, succumbing to sleep. I lie there, wrapped in Derek’s arms, and feel completely safe knowing this man will never let anything happen to me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DEREK
I clear my throat and turn the knob to Mick’s office, pulling open his door. The creak of the wood calls for his attention. His eyes shoot up to meet mine.
“Chief, do you have a second?” I put my head in, afraid to go in all the way without his permission.
Even though I’ve known this man all my life, he still intimidates me. The guy’s been around since the dawn of time—well, since my grandpa was around—so he’s due the appropriate respect.
I always find myself trying a little more with him, whether it’s in appearance or behavior. Though, sometimes I’m sure it doesn’t seem like I do. We reckless, arrogant bastards can only act dignified for so long. Plus I’m the worst of them.
“Sure, my boy. C’mon in.” He waves me in. I follow his gesture, walking over to the chair across from him.
Less than a day ago, Officer Brady was in this very building threatening to destroy Beth’s life—my life. My world, my vision of her and me, blew up in my face. The words fraud and crime paired with her name spilled out of him like a fucking tsunami, and I was powerless to stop it.
Or, at least, I thought I was.
What’s worse is that it’s all true. Well, depending upon what truth I choose to believe.
The last time I left this place, I was shattered.
Devastated.
Afraid that everything I worked for and wanted was slipping through my fingers.
But the world is back on its axis, spinning the way it always has, thrusting us forward to a new day filled with new promises and possibilities.
With Beth.
I’m still having trouble trying to rationalize what she’s done. It’s criminal, after all, but knowing my days will be spent with her, makes my view of the future so much brighter. Hell, I can actually see the future now.
Before, I was only looking forward to the next hour, the next woman, the next fire—only to restart again in the morning. No plans, no attachments, no worries.
Then Beth came along, and everything I thought I knew changed. The moment I saw her I knew there was something about her that would wreck me. It was a force stronger than me—and that’s hard to come by.
Having her and nothing but her has created a whole new vision and meaning in my life, one I plan to fight for every day, to attach myself to, and gladly think about. Everything seems right again, even though I’m not sure I knew what right was until now.
“What can I do for you, son?” Mick asks as he swivels his chair to face me. He clasps his hands together and leans on the desk, the usual sign he’s ready to listen. He would have done all right as a priest in another life.
I clear my throat and sit up straighter, wanting nothing about this moment to go wrong. This needs to be done right.
“I’d like to accept your offer,” I say, and a mix of emotions hits me in the chest. I’m excited, nervous, scared, proud—I feel everything. “I’d like to become lieutenant.”
Damn.
It feels good to say that out loud. And to say it to Mick.
“Today’s been a long time coming, my boy,” Mick says, his mouth growing into a satisfied grin.
“Has it?” I chuckle, stopping myself when I see Mick’s expression grow serious.
He nods his head. I squirm in my seat, the sincerity in his demeanor thickening the air.
“Ah, my boy! I’ve always known you’ve had this in you—the potential to be lieutenant. That’s why I offered you the promotion. I’m just happy to see ya finally got your head out of your ass and want to actually prove your worth,” he scoffs.
“I never thought I wanted the responsibility,” I admit. “The picture you painted before, with the LAFD groupies and raging fires seemed so picturesque. A life of endless debauchery…” I look off into the distance, pretending to be dreaming of a long-lost love or some shit, but I cut it quick, looking back at him in all seriousness. “But now, I’m ready to give it go.”
That nagging wave of emotion starts to cloud my eyesight. I blink rapidly to dry it out.
What the hell, Derek? Pull yourself together, man.
“But I do have one condition,” I add before Mick can respond.
“Aye, what’s that?” Mick’s brows furrow. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I still want to be on the emergency fire rescue team,” I say. “I might want to become lieutenant, but I still need that.”
I don’t admit it’s the adrenaline I still crave, the rush I get whenever the bells ring and we descend on an engulfing flame. That’s something I never want to give up, lieutenant or not. That’s what I need: to continue to save people, to help them.
Hell, that’s why I became a firefighter in the first place. I can’t let that part of me go.
“Still need that adrenaline rush, ay, boy?” His husky voice hitches. He begins to laugh. “I understand that need. I still get it from time to time. It’s what we’ve been put on this earth to do.”
Well, shit, so much for not admitting it. But what do I expect? He’s been with my family since I was in diapers. He knows me. He’s seen the best and worst parts of me.
He shakes his head and continues, “But, boy, that Hardy blood sure does run thick through your veins. You’re just like Don.”
I still for a moment as my dad’s name cuts into me. It lingers in the air for a moment, almost as if his presence is here, filling the space between Mick and me.
“Guess you already knew that about me then, Chief,” I shrug my shoulders, letting out a sigh.
I think Mick feels my dad’s presence too, because his mood changes abruptly, his face falling into a kind yet solemn expression. He leans forward on his desk and clasps his hands together again, using it as a way to mark this moment. It’s an effective way to grab my attention.
“Derek, my boy, your father would be so proud of you. Aye, wherever he is, I know he’s looking at you with pride in his eyes. This is the day he always dreamt of seeing. Next to a wedding, sure, but that’ll be in due time, I hear.” He winks at me, his expression softening a bit.
The weight of his words chokes me. The emotion I felt earlier intensifies. To hear that I’m making my father proud, finally, releases the years of tension and pain I’ve kept bottled up.
I bite my tongue to keep from crying and casually run my fist over my eyes, acting as if they’re irritated or itch
y.
I clear my throat, straighten my posture, and meet his eyes. For a moment, I think he’s going to cry too. But he shakes his head, and the vulnerability I saw a moment before disappears.
But wait, what?
What did he say?
What did he hear?
Does he know about Beth? I’m sure he knows about the fire and the investigation—he’s the chief, for fuck’s sake—but does he know about us?
“Do you…” I trail off, not able to finish my sentence. “Do you know something I’m not aware of?” I finally spit out.
Fuck. What does he know?
Does he know the truth?
He can’t. No one does. Other than that fucker Travis. But his word is as good as a rabid dog’s—it’s useless. Especially after what he did to Beth.
“Boy, I’m the chief. I know everything.” He winks and puffs his chest up, putting his best ‘I’m the boss’ face on. “But, to remind you, as lieutenant, your main priority is to organize and execute the training programs for the new recruits. They’re in your hands now.” His sternness cuts through the emotional gravity of the moment.
Thank God.
“Yes, Chief,” I respond dutifully. My formality usually comes back into play when we’re talking business. And, given my new ranking, I have to lead by example.
Sounds ridiculous, I know. Less than a week ago I was balls deep in two women in the back of the clubhouse, leaving them sulking as I went to fight another fire—where I met her.
Now, I’m lieutenant. The new recruits will look up to and learn from me… God help them.
Damn.
“You can be on the rescue team, but the training is your priority,” he reinforces my job duties, and I nod my head, indicating I understand.
“Best of both worlds, Chief.” I plaster on my million-dollar smile, and he laughs, which ends with him in a coughing fit.
“It’s good to see the resident playboy finally hanging up his hat,” he scoffs while catching his breath. “But in all seriousness, my boy, your father would be proud, and I am too. I’m proud of you for making this decision. I know that it’s the right decision. One that’s in your blood.”
My smile fades as the legacy I’m carrying on becomes my reality. The weight is heavy, but it’s nothing I can’t bear. I’ve been carrying it with me my whole life. If anything, this decision has made it lighter and more manageable.
It’s about fucking time.
“I’ll go and grab all the paperwork so we can finalize your promotion and get you started as lieutenant.” He turns towards the computer screen and turns it off. Then he shuffles around some papers on the desk, grabbing a few stacks and opening his briefcase, shoving them in.
“Is there anything I need to do?” I ask, growing impatient to start my new position.
“You’ll have to fill out the paperwork,” he teases, “but I’ll let you know when it’s all ready. Most likely later this week.”
I stand up to meet his height, wanting to shake his hand in appreciation for his support and trust in me.
He grabs my outreached hand with his, but he doesn’t shake it. He holds onto it, folding his other hand around mine, cradling it firmly.
He murmurs something under his breath. Broduil, it sounds like. I recognize the word from my childhood. My dad used to say it, albeit rarely.
It’s Gaelic for proud.
He tightens his grip on my hands and my chest tenses, responding instinctively to that word.
“My boy, I’ve never been prouder of you. To watch you grow and learn to be as selfless as you’ve become is an honor. Only a good, honest man would put his career on the line for someone, to help them when they’re in a tough position. You’ll make a terrific lieutenant. I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us.”
He lets go of my hand, letting it fall with his sentiment.
“Long live the Hughes!” he chants, grabbing his briefcase. He leaves the office before I have a chance to digest everything he just said.
I fall back into the chair, going over his words, and the realization he knew what was going on. I’m reeling.
Shit.
He knows about Beth. He knows about her situation—everything. He knows about fucking everything.
Why didn’t he say something?
I jerk my head around, looking to see if he’s still in the building.
I need to ask him. I need to know if my suspicions are correct.
I jump up and sprint after him, hoping to make it to him in time.
But when I reach the front of the firehouse, he’s already driving away, waving at me while he passes. I wave back, and, with this simple gesture, the weight of the past leaves me.
I stop reeling and ground myself, letting a heavy breath out.
It’s time to turn over that new leaf.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ELISABETH
I’m forgetting something, I know I am. I always forget things when I pack, and it’s always something vital like a toothbrush or underwear. I glance at my two suitcases, packed to bursting, and grimace. I really don’t want to have to unpack everything to figure out the mystery item. But I don’t want to have to come back for it either. Travis has been arrested, and I’m not under investigation for insurance fraud anymore, but this place still gives me the creeps, especially when I’m alone.
I’m standing in the hallway between my bedroom and the living room. I try not to set foot in the living room more than I have to. It still stinks of the gasoline Travis doused me in. My chest feels tight whenever I smell it. Even going to a gas station is a test of willpower.
I am not okay right now, but I will be soon. After all, I’m not doing this alone.
Derek has insisted I stay with him until I decide what to do with my insurance check. The people down at the claims office gave rush processing a whole new meaning so I could get this check. I’m pretty sure Officer Brady had a hand in speeding that along.
When Derek first suggested I stay at his place, I turned him down. I didn’t want to seem needy after putting him through so much crap. I mean, objectively, our situation is pretty insane. Most guys I know would turn tail and sprint away after just a taste of the craziness that followed me from the trailer park. But Derek is different. He’s been different from the beginning.
The first night back in my house after the fire department approved it (again) was a literal nightmare. I didn’t think the living room would still smell. I didn’t think I would be so paranoid. Every tiny noise made me jump. Every shadow I thought I saw in the corner of my eye made my heart jump into overdrive. When I finally did go to bed, I was alone in the dark for all of five minutes before I called Derek and begged him to come get me.
I’ve spent every night since sleeping in his bed, cradled in his arms.
It’s funny, I was so determined to make it on my own once I left home, but I modeled my entire life after what I thought it should look like, not what I actually wanted out of it. Whenever I wake up in Derek’s arms, I feel like I’m finally living the life I want.
Plus the mind-blowing sex every night (and most mornings) is a huge perk. His ability to stay hard pretty much twenty-four seven is nothing short of a superpower.
I’ve taken it upon myself to make his apartment a little homier. I’m not going crazy, just organizing the clutter and stocking the fridge with something other than cheap beer and microwave meals.
I actually like the way Derek’s apartment looks. The masculine feel, clean simple lines and color scheme suit my taste. I would even go so far as to it call it ‘minimalist chic’ now I’ve fixed it up a bit.
“Son of a bitch!” I realize what I nearly forgot. I hurry back into my old bedroom and snatch the open envelope sitting on the cherry wood nightstand. My mother’s second letter, the one she wrote to warn me about Travis and to finally come clean about everything. The first letter, the one I made Derek go back in and rescue, is already tucked away somewhere safe.
Alone in
the house, holding that letter, I know I have to do the one thing I’ve been putting off. I haven’t talked to my mother since our last, incredibly unpleasant, phone call. Part of me understands why she had to speak and act a certain way on the phone. The other is hurt by it, except for the fact I was not surprised to hear her say those nasty, terrible things.
I pull up her number on my cell. After the fifth ring, I’m afraid she won’t answer. What if Travis did something horrible to her before driving down here? I should have checked on her sooner. Why am I so bad at this? I’m working myself into a panic when the line picks up.
“Beth?” My mother’s voice snaps me out of it.
“Hi, Mom.” It’s all I can think to say. Suddenly, she’s a flurry of anxious questions.
“What the hell happened? Why haven’t I heard from you? I saw on the news an arsonist was arrested in your area. They didn’t show a picture. Was it Travis?” Mom’s voice gets louder and louder with each syllable. I hold the phone away from my ear to prevent hearing loss.
“Beth, answer me!” she shrieks.
“I will if you stop screaming.” I talk into the phone I’m holding at arm’s length. I’m surprised to hear laughter in my own voice.
“Fine,” she huffs. “Tell me what happened.”
“Travis showed up the same day I got your letter. He… kind of tried to kill me,” I wince on the last words and hold the phone away from my ear again in preparation for the round of screaming that’s guaranteed to follow.
“What the shit? What in the ever-loving fuck? Where is that lanky son of a bitch? I’m going to kill him with my bare hands!” I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter.
“Mom! Mom, listen to me,” I say, trying to get a word in between her never-ending stream of swearing and death threats against Travis. I almost wish Derek was here to hear this. He’d get a kick out of it.
“Someone tried to murder my baby! Let me be mad!” my mother yells back. I completely dissolve into cackles.