Controlled Burn- To Publish

by Lani Lynn Vale

  She giggled when my fingers moved up the back of her leg, coming to a rest just at the back of her knee.

  “What happened?” I’d officially gone into paramedic mode.

  This cut of hers wasn’t the usual ‘scrape’ one gets as they walk past a prickly bush.

  No, this one was a fucking gash, like something hit her, tearing her skin open.

  The gash itself was deep and about two inches long, starting at the bottom of her thigh and extending up.

  She sighed.

  “I was walking and not paying attention to where I was going.” She was embarrassed to tell me. I could see it on her face, which intrigued me even more. “Fell off the curb and, unluckily, Barrett was pushing a cart toward me. When I fell, he swerved to move out of the way, but in the process swung his cart around and ran over me.”

  My brows furrowed.

  “Where were you?” I asked.

  “Lowes in Marshall,” she answered. “I was picking out the paint for the master bedroom in my project house.”

  “Like a regular cart?” I asked, prodding the edges of the wound. “And what the fuck was Barrett doing in Marshall?”

  She shook her head.

  “No, one of those flatbed ones. The big blue ones with the massive wheels on them. I’m not actually sure what I hit, but that man nailed me with that cart.” She gestured to her knee. “Barrett was going fast, though. Like really fast. Might have even been running with it. I never even saw him. That’s what made me fall, after all. I saw the flash of movement, looked up instead of looking down at the step, and then promptly busted my ass.” She shook her head. “As to what he was doing there, I have no clue. The thought had crossed my mind, but I didn’t stay long enough to ask.”

  My lips thinned.

  “Seems like Barrett shouldn’t have been pushing a fucking cart if he can’t control it,” I growled.

  Fucking Barrett.

  I hated that she had to see him, and to add insult to injury, she’d gotten hurt at the same time making her appear vulnerable in front of him.

  She nodded in complete misery.

  “I had to go back to my truck and doctor it up. He tried to follow me but I refused his help and hobbled to the truck with blood pouring down my leg,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” I asked. “Or run by the station? I would’ve fixed you up.”

  “I didn’t call because I knew you were busy. You were working a traffic accident, or at least that’s what I heard on your scanner,” she pointed to my handheld scanner that I carried with me when I wasn’t working.

  I was on the volunteer fire department for a few of the smaller surrounding cities that I was within fifteen miles of, and I carried that to keep a lock on what was going on in the towns surrounding the area.

  I smiled at the thought of her listening to the scanner but just as quickly frowned.

  “Why are you listening to the scanner?” I asked.

  She blushed and pulled away, and my mind started to work.

  “What was that blush for?” I asked, starting to head for her.

  She shook her head furiously and pointed at the kitchen.

  “Dish that out,” she ordered.

  I did as I was told, scooped chicken onto each plate and then held them out for her to scoop on the gravy.

  I gave her a pointed look as she dished the gravy out and smiled when she glared at me.

  “So what was the look about?” I pushed.

  She flushed an even darker shade of red and then started to tell me.

  “Well…” she said. “One of my friends and I met for lunch yesterday and I got to talking, and she started telling me about this new community. A Facebook group of sorts. Which then led me to a messaging community of likeminded individuals. I started to explore when I got home, and I found a few sections on the messaging boards that talk about things like the BDSM community. Personal fantasies. Shit like that. Anyway, I was cruising through some of the posts on there…” She stopped when I’d frozen, and glared at me until I moved over to the hot pad that was resting on the countertop and scooped up a large blob of mashed potatoes.

  Once finished, I walked the plates to the table while I listened to July getting drinks at my back.

  My eyes set on the pile of folded laundry on the very end of the table.

  She’d even folded my underwear.

  As my mouth twitched, I took a seat and patiently waited for her to speak.

  My dick, however, was anything but patient.

  In fact, it quite liked where this topic was heading if my pulsing erection was anything to go by.

  “Wipe that look off your face, Mister,” she laughed. “You’re going to make this impossible for me to finish.”

  I pantomimed zipping my mouth closed and throwing away the key, causing her lips to twitch.

  She took a seat at the table, her ass falling into the chair with a hard thump as the backs of her bare thighs met the cool wood of the seat.

  Leaning back in her seat and lifting her head, she looked at me for a full minute before she started to explain.

  “I found this certain post that asked what the sexiest thing was about your man. So I started to read, and a lot of them were very unique. Mine, however, was not,” she hedged.

  I tapped my long fingers on the table as I waited for her to explain, but when she remained silent, I lost patience.

  Leaning forward in my chair, I yanked her to me until she had no other choice but to sit in my lap or lean into me.

  She chose to go down onto her knees and lean into me, making everything in my chest start to tighten as those vulnerable eyes looked up at me with pleading in them.

  Tangling my fingers in her hair, I leaned forward and growled. “Tell me.”

  Her pupils dilated, and she licked her lips.

  “It’s your voice,” she whispered.

  “What’s my voice?” I persisted.

  She took a shaky breath.

  “Your voice is what turns me on,” she explained. “And, at first, I thought it was really funny hearing what some of these women found so arousing, but then I got to thinking. What was it about you that aroused me the most?”

  I waited, and she continued without me needing to tell her.

  “So, as I was taking one of my naps today, I got to thinking,” she continued. “At first, I was just thinking about what it was about you that turned me on so much. Then I got to thinking about some of the things we’d done together, things that made a big impression on me. Things I still think about to this day.”

  “What was it?” I prodded.

  “Your voice, that time when you tied me up.” She licked her lips. “And, umm, yeah. When you put that blindfold on me. I still remember the sound of your voice when you whispered all those dirty things to me. I’ve never come that hard in my life, you know, um, that time.”

  It’d been a good time.

  I remembered it. Vividly.

  It was one of those memories that I replayed in my mind over and over again on the lonely nights that I was by myself, only me and my hand to keep me company.

  “Keep going,” I rasped, licking my lips as I watched her.

  “And so I wanted to see if it was true. Wanted to know if it was the sound of your voice that made me…you know.” She swallowed, knowing I was going to force her to continue.

  “Finish,” I said through gritted teeth.

  She wiggled, and I had to close my eyes to urge my throbbing erection to be patient.

  “So I turned on the radio you left in my truck…to listen for your voice,” she finished on a rush.

  A grin spread over my lips.

  “And did it?” I questioned her.

  “Did it what?” she hedged.

  “Do it for you?” I pulled her hair so her eyes came to mine.

  When they did, I saw the raw emotion there. Saw her need, her desire.

  “Yes.”


  Her answer was barely audible, but I heard it. I didn’t need to know whether or not she did anything. I knew she did.

  Which was a big no-no.

  Standing her up, I pointed to the chair and said, “Eat.”

  Her back stiffened.

  She frowned at the abrupt move, but sat down in her chair.

  Her face betrayed every single emotion that ran through her.

  Disappointment. Anger. Lust.

  They were all there, and I nearly smiled as I ate my food, not even tasting how delicious it was in my excitement as I thought about what I was going to do.

  No, my mind was elsewhere, mainly on the fact that once she finished her food, we were going to play.

  For hours.

  My plate clean and belly full, the moment she placed her fork down signaling that she was done, I yanked her into the living room behind me.

  “Strip,” I ordered her, circling my finger in her direction to get her moving faster.

  When she continued to stare at me like I’d lost my mind, I took a large step forward and grabbed her shirt by the hem.

  When I went to tear it off her body, she pushed at me.

  “I’ll do it!” she scolded. “This is one of my favorite shirts!”

  I stepped back, then left the room in order to go change.

  The second I got to my bedroom, I yanked my shirt free from my pants and tossed it to the floor in the general vicinity of the hamper.

  Vaguely, I noticed that the shirt fell into the empty hamper, and I made myself a mental note to be sure to thank her for doing my laundry.

  She didn’t have to do that, but I appreciated it because that was a task that I never liked doing.

  My housekeeper didn’t do it for me—one of the few things that she didn’t do.

  My pants, socks and underwear followed the shirt, and I walked into the bathroom to get a few essentials that I would be needing over the next hour.

  It wouldn’t do for me to have to come get these later. It’d definitely take away from the mood.

  Items in hand, I walked out of the bedroom, completely naked, stopping at the back of the couch as my eyes did a toe-to-top slow perusal of July, who was staring at me.

  Her eyes were wide and fixed on my throbbing erection.

  Her lips were slightly parted, and her breasts rose and fell with her labored breaths.

  She licked her lips and cleared her throat.

  I nearly laughed when her gaze kept flickering down to my cock and back up to my eyes. Over and over again.

  Rounding the couch, I dumped the things in my hand onto the coffee table, and snorted when her eyes widened.

  “Dean,” she said softly. “What are you doing?”

  Leaning down to grab the TV changer, I switched it on and walked around her to the DVD shelf above the TV.

  After finding the one I wanted, I loaded the DVD into the player and scooped up the remote before taking a seat on the couch.

  My hard cock slapped my belly as I fell, causing her eyes to widen as she took me in, legs splayed.

  Readjusting myself on the couch until my balls were in a more comfortable position, I leaned back into the couch and reached one hand forward to pat my legs.

  “Belly down,” I ordered.

  “What…what?” she stuttered. “You want me to what?”

  I just looked at her, unwilling to repeat myself.

  I didn’t want to repeat myself, specifically because I damn well knew she’d heard what I’d said.

  She must’ve caught on, too, because she did what I asked without another word.

  Inside, I was smiling, but on the outside, I stayed calm and collected.

  My cock was laying against my belly, pulsing every so often as blood flow surged through it.

  Carefully, she walked toward me, her breasts swaying as she moved.

  Her eyes went to my lap and my cock, then skittered away as she put her uninjured knee into the cushions on the left of my thigh and placed her hands down on the cushion at my right.

  Once the soft skin of her belly met mine, I dragged the pillow from the end of the couch and placed it underneath her head.

  “Now what?” she breathed, shivering slightly.

  I licked my lips, letting the rough palm of my hand trail down her backside before I lifted it free of her silky skin and reached over my shoulder for the folded blanket at my back.

  “Now, we watch this movie,” I said gruffly as I unfolded the blanket and covered her entire body, as well as my legs, with it. “If you can make it through the entire movie without coming, then I’ll let you do to me what I did to you.”

  She gasped and turned her head, which had been focused on me, instantly freezing at what she saw on the screen.

  Pressing play, I started the movie.

  I’d watched this particular movie one time and one time only—the day after I broke up with July. It’d been pure torture on my part. I’d done it not because I wanted to get off, but because I wanted to remind myself why I let her go.

  Remind myself that she deserved someone to give her what she wanted. To give her the life she thought she wanted. I’d deluded myself into thinking that man wasn’t me. That I wasn’t good for her.

  The movie…well, let’s just say it hadn’t convinced me of that, so I hadn’t watched it since.

  Not because I didn’t want to, but because it hurt to watch.

  It hurt to see her. It hurt to remember everything I was feeling that day.

  I wanted her on my lap as she watched it, so I could witness and feel the way the scene affected her.

  “Oh, God,” she said. “You didn’t tell me you taped this.”

  I chuckled darkly.

  “I’d intended to show you,” I replied softly, trying to ease the pain I knew it would cause her.

  Shortly after I made this, our relationship began its downward spiral.

  Pressing play to lessen the blow, my eyes zeroed in on the screen.

  It started out like any homemade porno.

  First you could see me setting up the camera, and then I backed up as I looked at myself in the computer screen, making sure you could see the bed well.

  ***

  Once I was sure it was in place well, I turned my back on the camera and walked to the bed where I had July blindfolded with one of my ties.

  Her face was flushed, and her body was shivering in anticipation.

  My smile widened as I studied the contrast between her and my black silk sheets.

  I didn’t use the sheets very often. They weren’t my favorite to sleep on.

  I only pulled them out for special occasions, or when my mother came over to see if I was using the expensive sheets she’d bought for me.

  However, at this moment in time, with July spread out for my viewing pleasure on the silky fabric, my mother was the last thing I was thinking about.

  Placing one knee on the bed beside July, I ran one finger up her shin. Starting at her ankle, I went all the way up to her knee and curled my hand around her knee.

  Smiling when she jumped at the contact, I spread her leg wide and said, “Keep it open.”

  Her automatic reaction was to close her legs, and I knew the moment I spread her wide that she would try to close them.

  In response to that, I reached over the side of the bed for the rope I’d threaded under the mattress.

  It was made of pure, braided silk, and I couldn’t wait to see it tied in knots around July’s splayed thighs.

  “Keep them open,” I told her when I reached for the other end.

  Laying the silk rope down on the bed beside her head, I spread both knees as wide as I could possibly get them, then pushed on her hips to get her to splay her legs open.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said to her, getting up and walking to the dresser drawer to grab the bottle of whipped cream I’d set there after coming in from the kitchen.

&nbs
p; Turning around, I saw her straining not to close her legs, and I hoped she failed so I could tie her up.

  However, after a few minutes of watching her, she didn’t waver, and I decided she deserved a little treat.

  “Have you ever had whipped cream straight out of the can before?” I asked her, running the cool bottle over the outside of her thighs.

  She gasped and squirmed, tiny goosebumps breaking out all over her legs and chest.

  Her nipples pebbled even tighter, and I couldn’t help the grin that tipped up the corner of my lips.

  “Cold?” I asked her, knowing the answer already.

  “Yesss,” she hissed.

  I chuckled and leaned down, pulling one of those tips into the hot recesses of my mouth, sucking strongly and causing her to gasp in surprise.

  My other hand trailed to the other side, and I pinched as I sucked.

  Her neck arched in response.

  “Feel good, baby?” I asked between sucks.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned. “So good.”

  “What does it feel like?” I asked her. “Where are you feeling it most?”

  “My pussy,” she answered without hesitation, all of her embarrassment of being spread wide for me now gone.

  ***

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “I’m drenched.”

  My hand slipped underneath the blanket to her backside, and I smiled before asking, “Now or then?”

  “Both,” she moaned. “I’ve thought about this so many times over the last year,” she admitted. “Of that. Oh, God. Look at me.”

  I did, and groaned myself at what I saw.

  “God,” she whispered. “That’s so fucking sexy.”

  ***

  She moaned when I straddled her chest, staying on my knees so I didn’t crush her.

  “I’m going to fuck your tits,” I informed her, smoothing my hand down between her breasts.

  Depressing the nozzle, the whipped cream burst free of its confines and splashed over her pretty breasts and chest.

  A gasp of surprise followed the feeling of the cool cream touching her overheated skin, and automatically her legs lifted to press down into the bed and roll me off her.