by Piper Stone
* * *
“Our hero!”
“Yo, Marty. Blaise is a hero. Keep ‘em coming on me for this boy.” The man smacked the bar before nodding to the bartender.
I smiled at the group from Ladder 24. This was also their regular hangout, along with the majority of my crew; a nice corner bar with cold beer, pretty good hot wings, and the best pool tables in town. I heard other calls of congratulations and shook my head. News traveled fast in our worlds. We were all tight, just good people trying to make a difference. “Eh. Just doing my job, Frank.”
“That little girl is lucky to be alive. Don’t kid yourself,” Frank chided, squeezing in next to me.
I gave Jake a slight look of desperation, rolling my eyes. If I wanted peace and quiet, this wasn’t it. Still, there were some beautiful women in the place, even a couple already looking in our direction. I rubbed my sweaty hand down my leg, resisting groping my crotch. The jeans were already pinching, my balls swelling.
“Take a look at that gorgeous redhead over there,” Jake muttered under his breath.
“She’s got a thing for you. I can see that easily.”
“Nah, she’s looking at both of us.” Jake lifted his glass in her direction. “God, would you look at her long legs?”
I was able to see the glint in his eyes. Jake was the polar opposite of me. Where I had unruly dark hair, a normal two-day stubble, and blue eyes, he was tall, blond, and what women called dangerous. He also preferred the finer things in life: fancy wines and one expensive German vehicle. Me and my Harley and the open road were all I usually needed, but tonight, my cock required attention.
I studied her face before shifting my gaze to her hourglass figure and legs fitting perfectly into a pair of heels. “Not bad.” A snarl from across the bar drew my attention. I glared at the television, no doubt the seventeenth replay of the earlier press conference. “Marty, can you turn that crap off?”
“Yeah, would you believe that this new appointee didn’t have the guts to show up to the press conference?” Frank laughed, lifting his beer bottle as others cheered on his statement.
“Maybe the guy was busy,” I muttered.
“You mean she,” Frank cracked.
Took a few seconds for the words to sink in. I tipped my head and no doubt, I had a gawking expression on my face. “What?” I wiped remnants of beer off my chin, shaking my head in disbelief. I should have known.
“You heard me right, bud. A damn woman was appointed and get this. Never been a firefighter a day in her life.” Frank’s grip on the bottle had increased, forcing his large fingers to turn white. “The mayor said her first task would be close examinations of every firehouse, making certain regulations and protocol was being followed to the letter. Ain’t that some shit.”
“Who is she?” Jake asked, leaning in.
“Didn’t catch her name. Didn’t care. Heard she’s a ballbuster though. I’m bettin’ she won’t last three weeks. Anybody taking that bet with me?” Frank called, his grin puffing up his reddened cheeks. The man needed to take it easy on the sauce. “Women are meant to be obedient. Maybe she needs a hard whippin’ like all women do.”
While I didn’t disagree that some of the most successful marriages were those with the men in charge, women following rules, I had a feeling good ole Frank was going to get his head bitten off some day from one pissed-off woman.
“Hear! Hear!” The cheers were deafening, the thudding noise increasing my already nasty headache from my reprimand after the fire. The captain had been none too thrilled at my heroics, citing a solid half dozen reasons he should place my ass on ice. I knew he wouldn’t, but still, the man was right. Some said I had a death wish. Maybe I did.
We hung around a little longer, making eye contact with the ladies while speculations went into high gear. I tried to drown out the accusations, a few threats. We weren’t going to change the asshole’s mind.
“Why don’t we grab a table,” Jake said as he snagged the frosty new beer that was slid across the bar. “Maybe we can convince the ginger babe to come sit with us. Can’t take this shit any longer.”
“Good idea. Thanks for the beer, Frank. Appreciate it.” I eased off the stool, giving the well-wishers a fake salute. Grabbing the bottle, I gave the redhead a heated look, a subtle but pointed smile.
Jake did almost the same, running his cold bottle of beer across his forehead. The man took flirting into another high gear.
She re-crossed her legs in an exaggerated fashion before licking around the lip of her glass. I had to admit, I was already breathless, my hunger off the charts. Even her friends seemed intrigued. Sadly, I wasn’t sure I had the energy for more than one chick. I trailed behind Jake until we found an open booth.
“A woman, huh, and I’m not talking about Miss Ginger. That will keep everyone talking for weeks.” Jake laughed. “I hope the mayor knows what he’s doing.”
“I don’t think he cares. He’s just ramrodding his particular agenda down everyone’s throat. However, her examinations should be interesting.”
“I know that look. You’re going to become her pain in the ass, aren’t you?”
I lifted my eyebrow. “You bet I am. How the hell does a chick with no firefighting experience get the job? I thought there were mandates, qualifications.”
“Beats the hell out of me. You know what they’re saying, don’t you? Heard a couple of the guys talking.”
“Do I want to know?”
“That she’s the mayor’s concubine and I didn’t make up that term.” Jake grinned.
From what I knew about the mayor’s reputation, I wouldn’t put it past him. “The man is a pig but that’s a stretch, even for him.” I took a gulp of beer, thinking about the ramifications of the mayor’s actions. Yeah, I knew certain changes needed to be made, but this wasn’t the way to do it. Not by a long shot.
“Don’t look now but the sexy girl is on her way toward our table. I knew I was right about her.”
Miss Ginger came alone, her hips swishing as she walked closer, her eyes sparkling even in the dim bar light. Yeah, she was beautiful in a wide-eyed girl kind of way, all spunk and wildfire. She was the kind of woman that needed to be planted over a man’s knees and given a solid whooping—just not mine. “You boys lookin’ for company?”
“Always.” Jake eased out of the booth, allowing her to slide in. “What’s your name?”
“Becca. Aren’t you boys firemen, hot blooded and all?”
I had to chuckle. Jake was always ready for a good time. Maybe he’d take the opportunity and spank her.
Jake motioned for the waitress. “We are indeed. We fight dangerous, kick-ass fires.”
“Oh, I do love a man in uniform, so commanding in every way.” She half purred the words, her lower lip pouting. “I’ll have a vodka martini, extra dry with three olives.” Turning to me, she continued, “I like to suck on them, rolling them around on my tongue.”
Her hand fluttered back and forth, over her chest in a provocative manner. She was pulling out all the stops and at least Jake was more than interested. While Becca was cute, she was more Jake’s style. Not that I was certain any longer I had one. Dating hadn’t been on my radar in a hell of a long time.
“So, you like men who take charge, huh?” Jake kept the heated grin on his face.
“Absolutely,” she answered. “In every way.”
I noticed she didn’t bother to ask our names. My guess was that she’d done this before. Some girls were danger junkies, longing for the attention of boys in the business. There were always a few hanging around the bar. Maybe I was at a point in my life that I needed something different. I laughed at the thought. As if I had any clue.
“One with a firm hand?” Jake asked. “Making certain young ladies are obedient?”
“Uh-huh.” The tips of her fingers brushed back and forth across her already erect nipple. “You see, I’m a very naughty girl. I have such difficulty in obeying the rules. I need discipline every once i
n a while.” She shot both of us a salacious look, her finger now swirling around her hardened bud.
“Women should be taken in hand,” Jake said very casually as he toyed with the label on his bottle.
“I totally agree. Spanked like the bad little girls we are.”
I stole a glance in Jake’s direction, resisting chuckling. His eyelids were half closed.
“I’m just the man to take control,” Jake added.
Becca squealed, inching even closer to him.
“Hey, something that I forgot I need to do.” I eased away from the table, pulling out my wallet and dropping a twenty. I honestly didn’t think either one of them would notice I’d left.
I waved to Frank before walking out, standing on the sidewalk for a few seconds before heading to my ride. Jumping on the Harley and grabbing my helmet, I gave the bar one last look.
Starting the engine, I realized for the first time in my life how lonely I truly was. Maybe experiencing playtime with Becca would have been cathartic. I just wanted more.
I rounded the corner, taking a different route home. A longer ride would no doubt do me some good. As I rolled down a darkened street, forced to stop at a traffic light, a flash out of the corner of my eye drew my attention.
The commercial buildings were completely dark at night, with the exception of a single light from a very ornate fixture positioned right over what appeared to be a bright red door. The concept seemed strange as fuck given the neighborhood.
I could also see a lone figure walking along the sidewalk, stopping just outside the door. The young woman was dressed in all black yet her crimson lipstick drew my attention. I was drawn to her for no particular reason other than I surmised the location was home to a kink club, one of many cropping up in town. While some were open to outsiders, advertising in bright neon colors, others were more subdued, catering to wealthy clientele. I would assume this was the latter.
When the doors were opened, she tipped her head in my direction, as if curious as to the rumbling engine. As my thoughts turned primal in nature, forcing my cock to twitch, I realized this was just another reminder that I was very much alone.
She was out there, the one who would soothe the darkness inside, ease the pain that never seemed to go away. I roared out into the darkness, pushing aside the bitterness, the anger.
I also made a promise to myself. I would find her, the same sexy woman I’d thought about all day.
And she would submit to me, body and soul.
Chapter Three
Genevieve
God damn mother fucker.
I’d muttered the words more than once since the ridiculous press conference. The mayor had been grandstanding to the crowd, hyping his personal agenda more than what the job entailed and the work we, or really I’d been tasked to do. Pompous asshole. Jerk. I’d been told in the strictest manner not to attend, but I’d gone incognito anyway, standing on the sidelines. Seeing the circus he was running was yet another reminder I had my work cut out for me. Truth is, I loathed the man, no matter his endorsement. In the end, I’d stormed away from the crowd, refusing to play the stupid, dick-like games any longer. He could have the floor show all to himself.
That had been yesterday.
Now, I sat on my back deck, a cup of coffee in my hand, trying to figure out why I’d allowed myself to be convinced I was the right person for the job. I also tried to figure out how I’d lost my ever-loving mind in coming here. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Fire investigator.
What the hell did I know about firefighters or the business of fighting fires? Only what I’d read and two horrific murder/arson cases I’d been asked to consult on during my illustrious career. Two weeks of surfing the internet, reading the crap Mayor Zane had tossed onto my desk and he believed I’d be an expert. He’d targeted me only three weeks before, railroading me into considering what he called his most formidable task. I took another sip, grimacing at the bitter taste. Maybe this is what I deserved for accepting the appointment. He certainly hadn’t won any friends with his decision.
I’d spent the previous night alone, locked behind closed doors, a bottle of red wine and a platter of cheese eventually turning into a carton of ice cream. The reason? I’d already been threatened by not one, but six different sources, all of them anonymous of course. My work number had blown up. Members of the firefighter family were outraged, refusing to accept what they’d called an abomination. At least they didn’t know my face. Yet. My resume leading a top forensics program and working with law enforcement agencies didn’t matter zippo.
I was an outsider, having never fought a single fire in my life. I’d also transferred in from Atlanta. Another ding to my already sullied reputation. Sighing, I rubbed my temple, almost slamming the cup down on the table. I had no time to rest on my laurels or hide under the covers. Today was a full day of testing the waters, visiting at least three firehouses. I had an agenda, protocols to check, and equipment to study. And I would be winging half of it.
Learn on the job, he’d said after plying me with two glasses of my favorite merlot. I’d actually agreed to have a drink with him, against my better judgment as well as my rational mind.
“Asshole. Jerk.” Saying the words out loud didn’t make me feel any better. I was in over my head and not a single person would come to my rescue. Especially since I’d given the mayor a piece of my mind after finishing my research. The firehouses were woefully underfunded, certain equipment outdated, and arsons were up twenty-eight percent. The good mayor had spent more time trying to wine and dine me than actually reading the various reports, let alone adding monies to the city’s draft budget for any updates.
I left the cup outside and slammed the screen door on my way into the house, attempting to finish dressing. I wasn’t sure how to dress or look the part, but I was determined not to stand out as a woman. Yeah, fat chance. Exactly how many strikes did I have against me?
A woman—check.
Never a firefighter—check.
Doesn’t know the city—check.
A submissive—check.
“Crap.” There was a word. I glared at my reflection, shaking my head. I thought about the man I’d met two nights before and my nipples instantly hardened. You mean the man you fucked. The little voice in my head was laughing at me, but she was right. I hadn’t actually met him, only knew his first name, if that was even real. We hadn’t exchanged numbers or considered a date. The few minutes had been nothing more than a wicked tryst. I’d had far too many thoughts about him, the hard spanking and the savage round of sex. The man was definitely the dominating type.
This girl was never going to have any man control her again. Period.
The end.
I shifted and I could still feel the effects of the stern discipline.
“Christ. Get a grip.” My desires and ridiculous behavior had nothing yet everything to do with this position. Oh, no, I wasn’t going to fall into that crap. My fantasies were off limits, even to... Let it go. New life.
I shut Pandora’s lid, counting to ten. After winding my long hair into a tightly knit bun, I grabbed my jacket, nearing ripping the material in my effort to slide my arms inside. A black pantsuit and a plain white blouse. As I smoothed down the material, shifting from side to side, I realized this was going to have to do. Time was ticking, and I would keep to my schedule, no matter the barbs thrown in my direction.
As I walked back into the kitchen, past all the boxes I’d yet to unpack, I glared at the dozen scarlet roses that had been delivered seconds after my arrival home yesterday afternoon. Hissing, I took another look at the card, my stomach lurching.
You’re going to be great.
You’re a star. Utter perfection.
Let’s have dinner to celebrate.
I didn’t need to have the card signed to know who the roses were from and they certainly hadn’t been sent by my mystery lover. The bastard actually thought he was going to get me into bed. He had another think coming.
I knew what else the man wanted, and hell would freeze over before I submitted to him in a permanent manner. In any manner. For any reason. Ever.
In a fit of anger, I yanked the roses from the vase, smacking them against the sink before opening the cabinet door, yanking out the trash can, and tossing them inside. Seeing the bubble of blood on my thumb from the single thorn left on a stem was a great reminder.
I would burn in hell for my association with that man.
I had no time to lament on certain previous actions. Sucking on my thumb, I grabbed my keys, purse, and briefcase. Curtailing my anger as I rushed to the door, I tripped over the box of pots and pans. The fact the case slipped from my hands, dumping all the paperwork onto the floor just about jetted me over the edge. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Jamming the papers back inside, I had the distinct feeling that Mayor Zane would be cursing my name by the end of the month.
Now, I felt a hell of a lot better.
I was barely out of the house when my phone rang. The 000 across the screen was a dead giveaway. I answered just as I had the last three, maybe four times. “Take a number, asshole.” Eventually, the calls would stop.
Or they’d turn into a different kind of threat.
Whatever. I had no time to deal with that on my plate today, or this week, hell, this month. The mayor had a packed agenda, all revolving around the upcoming budget year.
Traffic was heavy as usual, making me late for the first appointment. While my arrival was at my discretion, I’d scheduled times with the various captains. None of whom had been happy with my call, two actually hanging up on me. I yanked at the paper on my passenger seat, making certain I was going in the right direction, almost veering into oncoming traffic.
Horns blaring, tires skidding, and my heart racing, my hands gripped the steering wheel with a deathlike vise. I gasped, trying to catch my breath, fighting the inner demons threatening to break free. I could do this. I did want to help the firefighters and if I could use my skills in forensics and criminal science to catch an arsonist, then every nasty comment would be well worth it.
