Burn For Me (The Burn Series Book 3)

by Dee Ellis

  “Final question,” The girls share a look, and it’s almost scary the amount of information that passes in that one look, “Are you, Lola Von in love with Hunter Byrne?” As they make a show of holding their breath, I bow my head.

  My eyes fall to the fading red circle, the perfectly imperfect anchor beside it making my eyes mist. I take a deep breath when I realize I’m not going to say it, because he deserves to hear the words first. But I don’t deny it, and I even offer a head nod. A tiny one, but it’s enough.

  “Yesssss!!!” Gigi squeals as I’m crushed between them.

  I laugh and let them hug me, because one, I need it right then. And two, I love them, too. I fucking love Chicago, these girls, those Cooper boys, and my goddamn husband. I love it, every bit of the pain that comes with it, the fear, the fact that I married a man I’d only been dating for a few months. The man who had made me feel safe without ever even trying.

  I allow a few more details, but what I have with Hunter feels too special to ruin with gossipy talk. At least just yet. We talk about their impending weddings, and I feel a wave of guilt. I know they would want to know, would have wanted to be there. But it had to be just us.

  Not because I don’t love them. Because I do, more than they have any idea. But because this thing between Hunter and I, it’s so special to me, but it’s also so fragile. I didn’t want to share that day with even the judge or the witnesses, but alas, the law is the law. Soon enough, they will know, and maybe we’ll do something together to celebrate it.

  I’m watching the clock, though, anxious to have a real honeymoon. Charli notices and sends me packing ten minutes early. I hug and kiss them goodbye, promising to meet for lunch later that week. I’m rushing out to meet Hunter when I know I see him in the shadows. Seth. Again.

  I didn’t slow down, didn’t pay attention to his figure looming in the shadows of the late afternoon sun. He was a coward. A fucking coward. Hiding in the shadows, never having the guts to come out in the open. Tell me what he was here to take from me this time.

  “Darlin’.” Hunter’s voice was close to my ear, warm and soothing, and I moved towards it.

  I’d made it to the curb, and my hero was there. Waiting, door to his big truck open, hand waiting to help me in. My eyes found his, and the fear that had started to cling to my edges faded to nothing. Hunter—he would always be there, I had no doubts. I held his green eyes and let him ground me before I took his hand.

  “Missed you, Pumpkin.” A swat at my ass and he helps me up into the truck, rounding to climb in beside me.

  I forget all about the shadows. About my past and the pain that I don’t have to let chase me away again. Hunter takes my hand, bringing my fading ring to his lips, pretty eyes closing as he swipes his full mouth over it. Leaning over, I hook a hand around his bald head, taking his mouth in a kiss; one like the one we shared on our wedding day.

  A kiss unlike any I had ever shared before. It’s layer after layer of how I feel about this man. The fear and excitement. The need and desire that sizzles up from between my legs. All the trust and hope that we can make this thing really work. We’re breathless when I lean away, and he’s smiling so bright, it hurts my chest.

  “Missed you, Darlin’.” Our fingers lace tightly together as he weaves through the busy streets.

  Chicago is teeming with springtime activities, none of which either of us are interested in. I mean, I love Chicago, and the noise serves its purpose when I need to quiet the whispers, the fear. But I never seem to need that noise now. Hunter and I, we do Chicago our own way. I give him directions, but until he pulls up in front of the corner shop, I tell him nothing of my plans.

  “Baby…” Hunter’s voice is tight, and by now, I know what that means.

  Those expressive eyes swing my way as he parks at the curb. Beyond my window, his eyes take in the dark building, the black stone, and the bright windows painted with stunning designs. I bring his faded ring finger hand up, holding his eyes.

  “Making you permanent, husband.” I close my eyes, tears slipping from the corners as I lovingly kiss that finger, my chest tight.

  With him, with love, with hope, with all the good shit I never thought I’d get to feel. It’s bright and colorful, and I need it. I want to have it, deserving of it or not.

  Hunter is the man who brought color back to my life, and I don’t want to ever forget that. If we make this crazy thing between us work or not, that’s a fact I won’t let anything take away from me. Nothing and no one.

  “Lola, baby,” The emotion in Hunter’s voice sends a shudder of love and need through me. “Come here.” I obey, bending to lay in his lap.

  It’s awkward, and I’m sure passerby might assume the worst is going on. It lets me bury my face in his burly chest. Lets me wind my arms around his thick midsection. Allows his art covered arms to circle me and bring me close. His hand drops to brush through my hair, the touch so tender, so full of so much, my eyes fall closed as tears flood them again.

  Hunter lowers, kissing me softly; another new kiss that he hasn’t given me before. Soft, gentle. Full of something I can’t let myself examine just then because it’s so gentle, but rages so bright behind the sweet kiss that it’s almost terrifying. We’re still for a few moments, letting the moment build into something words could never touch.

  “I mean it. I meant it so fucking much, Lola.” I nod as he murmurs this against my temple, his arms going tight again.

  “Me too, Hunter. So much.” It’s more than the words could ever say, this moment, and I want to take it and tuck it away somewhere it can never be lost.

  “You sure you want to do this, baby?” I laugh, nodding as I shove to burrow my face into his neck.

  “I am sure. A tattoo might be less serious than rushing off to the justice of the peace, don’t you think, baby?” We laugh together, and fuck, it feels so good to share something like this with someone.

  After a few more moments, one or two more tears, and a lot more of those sweet, soft kisses, he lets me go. I lead him inside, smirking at the cute tattooed girl behind the counter. I set this up the moment we agreed to have this little honeymoon. It was important to me, and I needed him to let me have it.

  “My five o’clock?” Mina, she introduces herself as, smiles at Hunter and I, and after we finish mooning at each other, I nod.

  “Yes, ma’am. Both of us.” I hook my ring finger with Hunter’s and tug him after her towards a booth.

  Mina is funny and comments on a lot of Hunter’s ink as she readies me for the tattoo. The most significant tattoo I could ever imagine. I am not quite as lovely a covered canvas as Hunter, whose nautical inspired work is bright and gorgeous, but I do have a few. Thankfully, I wasn’t stupid enough to ever let Seth mar my skin with his name or something equally as disgusting.

  Mine are all my own artwork. All done during something significant in my life. A burst of ravens on my shoulder when I ran from Maine. Dandelions blowing in the wind when I first settled in Pittsburgh, before Seth found me again. An open book with flowing letters once I landed at the library. All poignant memories that are significant parts of my journey.

  None of them as significant as the one I’m holding my left hand out for.

  “So fucking cute.” Mina giggles, winking at Hunter who stands beside me holding my other hand.

  “He is lovely to look at.” I giggle when he flushes a little, but shakes his head.

  “I think she meant the sentiment, Darlin’.” Hunter presses a kiss to my temple, and Mina sighs.

  “Indeed, I did. You two newlyweds?” Mina quirks a pierced brow, smiling at both of us.

  “We are. Five days." I answered as she prepped me, the buzzing of the gun exciting me.

  "So newly, newlywed. You look like a married couple. I don’t know. Look like you go together." Mina scrunched her pierced nose up and went to work.

  I decided to keep the same design we’d drawn on each other on our wedding night. My band is red and beneath that
was a delicate navy anchor topped with a red heart. It was perfect. I didn’t need a diamond. A stone could never mean to me what that anchor did, what Hunter drawing that ring on my finger had.

  The tattoo went quick, both of us moony as fuck at each other as we switched places. Hunter kept dragging his lips over mine, gently, those green eyes fiery. My belly coiled with need and love and want. Want for more than this man, but always this man. Want for a future with him, and the cute house and picture-perfect life he’d tried to give his first wife.

  One that should have been enough, but wasn’t. I didn’t need anything more than Hunter. What I found in him was picture perfect to me. I was so in love with all of the parts of him. So fucking anchored to him, tattoo or not, marriage or not. I loved Hunter because my flaws, my imperfections, they made sense to him. They were beautiful to him.

  “All done.” Mina announced, swiping a rag over his matching tattoo and beaming at us.

  “Thank you, Mina.” Hunter pulled out a few big bills, smiled with that dimple, and she flushed like any woman with a working clitoris did when he turned that charm on.

  “Thank you. You two make that shit count.” Mina winked at us.

  Hunter smiled at her, then a different smile at me, and tipped his head. My chest was tight with it, and I knew I didn’t need to wait for him to need the words. Or for a fight or a mistake. I felt the words, and I knew he did too. We stepped out onto sidewalk and I almost laughed.

  It was late now, the streets crawling with commuters and people out on the town. A bum sat on the corner with a collie, a bark and a gruff thank you for every cent dropped into his tin. Trash swirled in the spring air, the breeze still carrying just a bit of bite. It smelled like trash and exhaust. And yet.

  “I love you.” I whispered it, afraid the city sounds might carry it away.

  There were no roses or candles, romantic scenery or music to signify this moment. I didn’t need that, though, and by the look in Hunter’s green eyes, I doubted he did either. Before I could say it again—because goddamn, I was going to say it again—his mouth was on mine. I was pressed against the truck, a gasp mingling with his moan as my flesh met the cool steel.

  “I fucking love you, Lola Bear. So much. Enough I don’t reckon the words are enough. I meant this marriage shit because I can’t stand the idea of losing you. Of you getting hurt. And... because I want to keep you. I meant that shit too, Darlin’.” Hunter was breathless after his announcement and so was I.

  “I love you, Hunter Jameson Byrne.” I whispered, cupping his face and kissing him back to prove that, fuck yes, I loved him.

  We might not make it, and maybe we rushed into this marriage shit, but I was taking it. I was taking it because I trusted him. What’s more, I needed him. That was some scary shit, but I wasn’t letting go because of fear.

  We had a fancy dinner out and talked about all the shit new couples talk about. About his parents back home in Mississippi, his kid sister, and the farm they all worked. We talked about my sister’s impending visit, something I was weary about. I had missed her; and yet the closer it came, the less I wanted to see her.

  “Tell me why.” Hunter asked as he fed me bites of his decadent desert, his heavy hand on my thigh.

  “No reason. As in, it’s my kid sister—I should have no hesitation. I do, though. I don’t know why. For four years, Poppy never tried to talk to me, see me. I thought...I assumed it was because of Seth. Assumed, like my parents, she bought into our bullshit relationship. Thought running away was cowardly. The Lawton’s,” I don’t even realize I’m admitting something about my family name as I rant on and on, “are a very proud family. We don’t cower. We lie and cover shit up, maybe. We certainly don’t actually deal with it or walk away.” Hunter touched his nose to mine, grounding me with the gesture.

  “I won’t let her hurt you. None of them will ever hurt you again, Darlin’. Not while you got me. Not while we got this.” Hunter’s ring finger slid between mine.

  The touch was so intimate, yet so charged at the same time, my thighs clenched. Like always, he clearly sensed the reaction. Because his other hand at my thigh began to move higher. His voice dropped an octave with each syllable, and he was almost growling by the time he said his next words.

  “Let them unleash the beast I can be. They try to take what’s mine...try to hurt what’s mine? Watch me turn King Kong to my Fay Wray.” His thick fingers shoved between my legs, finding me wet because...I mean, yeah? King Kong dick claiming me as his? Fuck yes, I was turned on.

  “King Kong ain’t got shit on you.” I teased, my vision hazy as he stroked me a few times.

  “Goddamn right, Darlin’. Get our honeymoon started right, yeah?” Throwing down a few more bills, he had us out of the restaurant and into the truck before I could respond.

  Blocks from home, his work phone went off. That blaring alarm shattered my arousal. As it often did. I was okay with him playing hero, though; I got the sweaty, soot covered hero in my bed afterwards. Fair trade.

  We coasted past the firehouse; at least until he saw four of the five trucks pull out. Hunter slid a glance my way so full of wonton heat, my pussy vibrated. The damn thing shuddered at the look in his eyes. With a sharky smile, he turned us around.

  “Hunter...” I warned, fearing my hope of spending seven days consummating our marriage was about to be dashed.

  “Hush, Darlin’. Got a bucket list item to check off with you.” Hunter winked at me as he parked in the wide parking lot beside the station.

  I blink in confusion, watching him jog around and let me out. Bringing me against his chest, he touched his nose to mine. Like always, I go supple beneath the briefest touch. His mouth is on mine, my hands are laced at the back of his head, and I forget where we are. Also, possibly, my name. He lifts away too soon, his eyes glittering with want.

  Without pause, he leads me inside the station. I’ve been here before, of course. Got the grand tour of the joint a few days after I moved into his place. Even played a game of pool with the Cooper boys one afternoon while I waited for Hunter to finish some boss level stuff. Now, he leads me into the empty bay the trucks usually park in.

  Excitement is coursing through Hunter. I can feel it sparking in the air between us. I don’t know what he’s up to, but whatever it is, I’m game. Just because I love to see him so excited. When he hoists me up the ladder on the oldest rig, one they rarely use, I frown.

  “Get that ass up there, Darlin’.” A loud smack echoes through the room and I shriek, biting my lip.

  “Hunter Byrne!” I scold, but I love it, and pleasure ripples right to my core.

  “Pretend you don’t love it, Darlin’. I know better. I can smell how much you love it.” Hunter shoves up behind me, face beneath my skirt, making a loud production of breathing me in. Holy fuck.

  I moan as his mouth presses to my lacy panties, hot against my wet flesh. Two big hands shove me up, up, his big body following after. I fall back into the heavy fold of hoses beneath me. Hunter crawls over me, that energy darkening his eyes and lighting me as they rake over me.

  “Backdraft, baby.” Hunter waggles his brows and I giggle.

  I smirk up at him with a quirked brow. It’s been a running joke between us girls; who’d be the one to get fucked on a fire truck a la Backdraft first. Although, I doubt any of us would be a first for any of these boys.

  I’m certain this exact scenario has played out for the boys of Ladder 71 plenty of times. We all know the boys’ sordid pasts and how the bunnies threw themselves at them. Their uniform had panties flying. I have no doubt Hunter has played this seduction scene for at least one lucky badge bunnie.

  “Oh husband, Backdraft? How many bunnies laid here with you before?” Hunter grips handfuls of hose on either side of my head as he sobers.

  “None. We kind of have a rule.” Hunter nudged my knees apart, his thick thigh heavy between mine.

  “Rules? You boys?” I taunt even as my breath hitches. The look in those eyes i
s needy, dominant, and it Goddamn owns me.

  “We used to have lots of rules, actually,” One hand skims up my thighs, his eyes dropping to watch as he elaborates. “Never fuck with family. Finn broke that one. Never get serious with a bunnie. Levi broke that one, too. Never mess with the boss’ daughter, Finn again. Never share if you don’t mean it. I broke that one, didn’t I? The most important, though? No pussy in the station.” I moan as his fingers spread my pussy, soaked and aching, wide open.

  “Oh Jesus....does mine not count?” I manage before his fingers curl deep inside me, finding the spot that shuts me right up.

  “Mmm, no. Because it’s mine. Because you’re mine. My fucking wife. I intend to break every fucking rule for you, Darlin’. Fuck, you’re so wet for me. I love it. Love how it tastes, how it smells. I love how it feels wrapped around me. How you feel when you come on my cock. Fuck, I love you.” Now, his fingers are pumping, slow but hard, and my eyes roll back as my fists clutch at the nylon hoses beneath me.

  “I... I love you. Love you. Jesus....Hunter....” Before I can say more, his thumb begins to strum me.

  Hunter has a way with his hands, no doubt. The way they slide over my skin, tangle in my hair, the crack of his hand on my ass even. I love it all. It’s like no one else has ever touched me. But this...this thing he does when he focuses on my clit. I don’t think that kind of pleasure is meant to come from the lazy strum of his thumb. It does, though.

  Just a few slow, perfect strokes of the rough pad of his thumb and I see stars. Before I can breathe right, or remember my name, his mouth is there. What’s more intense than stars? Because that’s what floods my vision as greedy, demanding strokes of his tongue have me edging on pain, it’s so good.

  “Damn, I could eat you all day, Darlin’. Never get enough of this sweet pussy. Caramel sweet and pecan salty. Goddamn delicious.” I reach for him blindly, fumbling almost.

  “Please, Pumpkin. I need to feel you. Now. Right now. Inside me.” My voice is raw and almost sexy, and he growls.