American Heroes: The Complete American Heroes Collection

by Teagan Kade

“I needed to process what happened with the fire… and what happened with you. You make me feel different, Beth.”

  Different? What does that even mean? Is that a good thing?

  Though, if it’s anything like the way he makes me feel, different should be listed under ‘fan-fucking-tastic’ in the dictionary.

  He must sense my apprehension and my nerves, because he smiles and kisses me again, this time softer. It’s as if he’s trying to find the words and our kiss is what’s going to reveal them.

  “Yeah, different. Good different. I dunno. I haven’t felt like this about a woman before. Usually I get bored after a few dates. I lose interest and find some reason to blow them off. But with you, it’s… it’s, like I said, different. I want to know everything about you and be there for you when you need it, regardless of what the situation is. Thick or thin.”

  I smile up at him gratefully.

  He smirks, his voice low and teasing as it tickles my ear. “Though, maybe next time, insurance fraud and setting your house on fire shouldn’t be your first solution to a problem, yeah?”

  I laugh and nod along with him, smiling with a playful roll of my eyes.

  Even in the worst of situations, he makes me feel like nothing can go wrong, like everything is just as it should be. I’ve been through hell these past few days, and through all of that I’ve had one person be a constant: Derek.

  Sure, we may not know each other that well, and sure, maybe the circumstances in which we met weren’t ideal, but I don’t care. I want him, he wants me, and that’s all that matters.

  Maybe it’s the leftover adrenaline. Maybe it’s because I’m looking up at him just like I did the first time I met him as he carried me out of here, or maybe it’s a bit of both, but all I can think of right now is how much I want him.

  No, how much I need him.

  I kiss him then, harder this time and more insistent. At first, I’m unsure when his lips touch mine, as he seems apprehensive, but all of that disappears with a groan. His hands run down my arms onto my back.

  I lean into his touch and sigh into his kiss, my hands fumbling and unfastening the buttons on the front of his shirt.

  He chuckles and I note the rumble of his voice against my lips. His hands are over mine, ripping the shirt open and tossing what’s left onto the floor.

  I look up at him. He shrugs with a smirk.

  “I didn’t really like that shirt anyway.”

  I giggle, and he smiles, practically lighting up the whole room. His lips are back on mine, and his hand is up my shirt, the other grabbing my ass and pulling me into him.

  Suddenly, he stops and pulls away, lips parted and pupils blown wide as he looks down at me with hungry, urgent eyes.

  For a split second I’m afraid I’ve said or done something to make him change his mind, the sudden lack of touch between us feeling so unfamiliar. Maybe he has second thoughts and he only said what he said in the heat of the moment. Maybe now he realizes how silly it all sounds.

  I open my mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but my words come out as a soft squeak when he picks me up. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist.

  With my arms around his neck for support, I lean in and kiss him again, smirking against his lips as I feel him press me up against the wall, rolling his hips into mine.

  His cock presses out through his jeans, hard and ready. I moan softly, reaching down between us to stroke him through the coarse fabric.

  Before I know it, he’s pulled me from the wall and carrying me to the bed.

  He sets me down on the bed and sighs, pressing his weight onto me with another roll of his hips, this time more demanding, harder. His hands are in my hair, his lips are exploring my neck, sucking and biting at my pulse point, soothing it with soft kisses as he explores further down.

  I raise my arms over my head. He catches my cue, pulling my shirt off and unlatching my bra with feverish want. I giggle and laugh when he smirks at me, but giggles soon turn to sighs and moans, his lips taking my nipple into his mouth and sucking, swirling his tongue around pebbled flesh.

  “Please,” I whisper, my hands raking along his back. “Please, Derek. I want you.”

  He responds with a growl against my skin, sitting up long enough to slide my pants down over my hips and toss them aside, doing the same with his own.

  Then his lips are on mine again, and although there’s passion, it’s slower. He takes his time, hands caressing my face and neck, trailing his fingertips along my side until they reach my hips, wrapping one of my legs around him.

  I lit up inside, dim, dormant parts of my body showing life for the first time in years.

  He slips a hand between us. A moan escapes my lips as he circles my clit. I push myself against him, desperate for his touch.

  “Fuck,” I hiss. “Please, Derek.”

  He stills for a moment and looks me in the eye, the head of his cock teasing my wetness, rubbing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves that’s sending fireworks of pleasure through me.

  I whimper and whine, rolling my hips and raking my hands down the skin of his bare back in a desperate plea for him to stop teasing. He takes the hint.

  In one deep thrust, he’s inside of me. A loose moan escapes my lips, the euphoric feeling of being absolutely and completely filled almost sending me over the edge.

  He curses, his teeth finding my shoulder, softly gnawing and grating against my skin as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in again with a groan. He picks up the pace and his lips find my neck again, surely leaving marks I’ll look at fondly in the mirror tomorrow.

  I don’t care. I want him to mark me, to make me his own.

  Fuck, he feels good. I open my mouth to tell him, but all that comes out is a broken whimper, the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock thrusting in and out rendering me utterly and completely speechless.

  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 fi
nd 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 itchy.

  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 r
ight 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.