Let It Burn

by Dee Ellis

  It was still crisp and cool out and I was fairly certain she needed a jacket. I thought about grabbing her one from the station before we got too far. Something told me she would deny me so I didn’t. Instead I walked close to her, giving in to my need to touch her with a hand at her back.

  We were quiet as the skies overhead slowly started to darken and I realized something important. I didn’t need to flirt with her or talk or even touch her. I just liked being near her. The sound of her breathing, smelling that citrus scent that clung to her, feeling her warmth.

  It was all like a drug she was letting me take hits off. I was becoming addicted. Of course I wanted her. All I said about wanting to own her body and fuck away every other touch before mine was true. That I could just be in her presence and feel so connected was possibly as satisfying as fucking. Well, maybe not as satisfying as fucking Charli, but still.

  We reached her place quickly and I was glad she was close to both my fire house and my own place. It would be easy to keep an eye on her. I felt kind of creepy stalker-ish for thinking that, though. I wanted to see what she had done with the place, if she had left all Regan’s work as we left it. I didn’t want to push my luck. I knew we had plenty of time. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Pausing at her front door, hand on the knob, Charli peered up at me. Again her teeth worried her bottom lip. I wanted to suck her lip into my mouth and slap her ass for tearing it up so bad. Instead, I took a step back. I wanted to kiss her so bad my entire body ached with it. With wanting to bring her close and taste her.

  “Thank you for walking me. Guess....till tomorrow, Cage.” It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done not pinning her to the wall and kissing her senseless.

  “Goodnight, Sugar,” Her eyes flashed every time I said that pet name and I couldn’t get enough of it, “looking forward to it.” Charli flushed and then backed inside, eyes never leaving mine.

  I realized as she backed away, something happened to her eyes. Something that I took for disappointment flooded them. Too late, I realized my mistake. I vowed earlier I would be kissing her today. Charli wanted me to kiss her. Shit! I took a few cautious steps towards her just as she slid inside. My head fell with a thud against the door as I heard the lock click. Way to go, idiot!

  So much for being a man of my word.

  Charli

  My breathing took longer than I was proud of to come back to normal. The thud of my heart took a lot longer. With my back pressed to the door, I slid to the floor and tipped my head back. It was still early but I was so exhausted from the emotions I’d battled with all day.

  My big bed sounded amazing. Once I could stand. Or breathe. “I want to make you come until you forget every other man who’s ever touched you.” Sweet Jesus. Cage Cooper was going to be the death of me. It might be the hottest, sweetest death ever recorded, though.

  Had I any doubt just what Cage’s words had meant, or what exactly he had in mind, I certainly didn’t anymore. I should be offended he was so forward. I should hate how cocky and certain he was. When he saw me putting stock in all the battle stories Finn was telling earlier, he went right to work. Somehow he knew his nearness, his touch, affected me in ways I couldn’t fight.

  So instead of promising me bullshit he couldn’t mean, or arguing away the facts, he touched me. Slid in between my legs and slid his big, strong hands up my skirt and gripped me tight. Let me fight out my anxiety as fears of loss his job could cause had me wanting to run. Again.

  Then, with us tucked in the corner of their commons room, he undid me. With his hulking frame blocking the others view of me, he had pressed his fingers between my legs. Once. Twice. Three times, his thumbs swiped over my panties, pressing gently against my pussy. By then his sweeping touch at my skin, and the roiling heat it shot through me had me wet and wanting.

  When he found how wet I was, for him, he let out a sound I was certain the others had heard. Which only made me even wetter. Then he had talked to me about nothing, soothing me even as he drove me fucking crazy. As I was sensing was a pattern between us.

  Since we met, I had been unable to get him out of my mind. I thought about his honey hazel eyes and the tattoos spiraling down his muscled arms. Dreamt of him holding me down as he thrust into me and told me how good it felt, how he needed me. Couldn’t get enough of me.

  It had been what...two days? No wait...three, right? Jesus could I remember a time pre-Cage? What was life like before I had met him? Calm and collected and b-o-r-i-n-g.

  The minute I felt his eyes on me that first day, looked into his shockingly beautiful face, I had felt alive. Aware of bright colors and strong aromas and the pulsing need he brought to life. The need he was very aware of. Certainly capable of satisfying.

  Had I ever wanted someone like this? Thought about them all day, leaving me unfocused and unable to work or, shockingly, read? The horror. I wanted Tucker in a way that was warm and innocent. We spent plenty of time working up to things but I never felt hungry for him. Or like I needed him.

  Even my passing fancy for bad boy Ryder had felt different. Like I wanted him just because I knew I shouldn’t. Because he was reckless and everything I wasn’t. I wanted Cage because...he struck something deep inside me that made me feel sexy and wanton and desired.

  Cage looked at me like a woman he wanted to claim. To own without end. Which he could not possibly know was exactly what I craved. While I wasn’t into anything kinky, at least not that I knew of in my limited experience, I wanted someone to take charge.

  To tell me what they wanted. To show me. I knew without a doubt that was exactly what it would be like with Cage. The things I knew he could do to me, could make me feel? It made me hot and molten everywhere that counted.

  Tonight, Cage had made a promise to me. A threat. That he would taste me. The words had just about made me come on the spot. As did most of what he said to me, to be honest. Cage had a way with words. I could only guess his pillow talk would make me blush.

  I wanted to hear it, though. Wanted to hear his husky, raspy voice in my ear telling me dirty, filthy things as he slid inside me. Hard and fast, his body pinning me down as he took what he wanted. Because I wanted to give it to him. If he had kept that vow and kissed me, I had real doubts I would be sitting on my floor, fantasizing about him.

  About his full lips that I wanted to bite and lick. About how his rough, heavy hands had felt on my skin. How quickly my body caved to his commands. My breasts got achy and my nipples pebbled the minute he looked at me. Because he didn’t just look at me.

  No, Cage devoured me with his hot, needy looks that left me weak and wet. I felt those heavy looks as if they were whispered touches at my skin. Fingertips at my nipples, his thumb pressing between my wet folds and making my swollen clit throb. Just from a look. Sweet Jesus, Cage just might be the worst thing to ever happen to me. If he wasn’t in fact, the best.

  When I managed to climb to my feet and make it to the shower, my gait was unsteady at best. Tomorrow I had to face him again and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. I learned more about him every day and I was getting sucked in deeper and deeper.

  As I stepped beneath the shower spray, I thought back to all the stories his friend, Finn, had spun earlier. I knew they were embellished; especially when he repeated himself three times, with an injury he mentioned getting worse each time. Still, it was a likely threat that Cage could be hurt, or worse, every day he reported to work.

  Filling my loofah with a puddle of the White Citrus body wash I was somewhat addicted to, I took my time running it over my skin. I dipped my head back and let the water pour over me. I considered just what Cage was doing to me. It was exhilarating and somewhat intoxicating to have someone so bold and demanding.

  Cage was unlike anyone I had ever met. Something about him and his commands, the way he told me things were going to be worked for him instead of making me pull away. I wanted to settle into his broad chest, trail my fingers over the tattoos that ran his arm as h
e took care of me.

  Because, I had never been taken care of before, not really. Massaging my scalp as I weighed all I knew about Cage, the good and bad I’d learned, I knew I was in trouble.

  Somehow I was coming up with more good than bad. Shit. The last thing I had wanted when I came here was to end up just like I had been. Relegated to being someone’s girlfriend, fiancée, wife, but nothing more.

  Stepping out of the shower, no less frustrated than when I climbed in, I thought perhaps I needed reinforcements. Wrapping my long honey brown hair in a towel before slipping on my fluffy robe, I padded to my bedroom.

  I was getting used to having the place to myself and I loved it. Sometimes it was too quiet. Then the cacophony of Chicago would filter in and it would get too loud. I was getting used to that though, too.

  “Tell me everything.” Maisie said as way of a greeting.

  “Hi to you too, sis. So... just as expected it’s dirty and loud...and I love it. The pizza is just as amazing as expected; I tried sushi and almost enjoyed it. I love my job, I found the cutest place, on the planet, and two of the girls at work seem to be promising girlfriends. Might have found my future husband.” I ticked off everything of importance since it had been a few days since we had spoken.

  “Sushi? I want photos of everything. Sis you should have Skyped me so I could see the place. Wait a tic...back it up. Husband? Charli?”

  “Sushi might grow on me, actually. I haven’t seen sights yet but once I do, all of you will see plenty of photos. I’ll Skype you both this weekend.” Knowing it would drive her crazy because Maisie loved nothing more than boy talk, I left mention of Cage out.

  “Charli. That’s lovely. Now. Get to the details about my future brother in law. Is he beautiful?” I knew I could count on her; she was like a dog with a bone. Horny.

  “Mais’ he is...fucking gorgeous. It’s the weirdest set of strange coincidences.”

  Then I detailed how Sara had used her connections with the Coopers to get me the cottage. Before I launched into the good stuff, I gave her a rundown of the place. I gushed about Regan’s work and how I couldn’t wait to show them. I was still trying to convince everyone, myself included, that I was here to stay. That would mean visits with my country bumpkin family. Which had me missing them and my hometown and the big house I hated.

  Maisie wasn’t letting me get away with teasing information, so she pressed and I caved. Told her about the that first day I’d met Cage. Then the second day where he had all but staked a claim on me. Maisie swooned at that.

  Then I told her about today; the threatened kiss and my fears. Then I began detailing some of the cons, knowing Maisie would be ready with nothing but pros.

  “Sis...that sounds like one of our trashy novels. Which Sadie and I are on this series, Crossfire? Whew it’s hotter than July by the river! Put it on your to be read list, sis. Back to your man trouble; I see no trouble at all. First of all, he sounds like sin on a stick. Second, a fire fighter? Men in uniforms just do things to my lady bits. Lastly, you remember what I said to you?” I giggled at her mention of her lady bits.

  “I do. Follow my dreams, fail, succeed, fuck around,” We laughed together as I quoted her parting speech, “fuck up. Break hearts and get your heart broken. No regrets. Maisie....after...after Tucker and... everything, I don’t want to risk losing something again. Not like that.” Maisie sighed and I knew that sigh; I always thought she knew more than she let on.

  “Sis, you can’t not live life because it might hurt. Your mom, Tucker, neither would want you so afraid of loss that you actually lose out on the good stuff. Look, let’s say this guy, Cage? Let’s say he means what he says. You give in to it, and give yourselves a chance. You get all the good stuff you could imagine. Then, god forbid it, something happens to him. You suffer of course. But you knew something great because of it. Do you regret your times with Tucker?” I frowned because I couldn’t be entirely honest about that.

  “No of course not. I know there’s good with the bad, Mais...I just don’t know if I’m ready to feel that fear that the bad is right around the corner again.”

  Another reason the girls and I had been able to finally bond, despite my stubborn resistance, was our shared experience. While I was waiting for Tucker they too were waiting for Colton and Cash. They knew what being a military wife was like. Infrequent letters, calls when they got the chance, a Skype if we got lucky. The fear of never really knowing where they were and what they were going through.

  Luckily for us all, my brothers had been stationed at the same base. They were able to watch each other’s back and were together when they got hurt. Tucker was not so lucky and was stationed in an entirely different country. The constant fear that something terrible could happen, likely would happen, had been a constant cloud over all three of us.

  The good that came of it was the closeness I got with the girls. We were so different but so alike, really. They had played all the parts, cheerleader, and homecoming queen, that I was also expected to, but they enjoyed it.

  I never felt comfortable in my skin in our tiny town, and they lived for the gossip and the close knit community. When we became family, I realized I had judged them too harshly.

  They liked the crowns and the pom poms because it was all they knew. Their mama was home coming queen, their Daddy star of the state championship football team. They wanted that life. There was nothing wrong with wanting what they knew. I realized I was being petty for judging them just because I didn’t.

  My brothers had wives to come home to, lives to pick back up there. Despite the ring on my finger I doubted that’s what Tucker wanted. By then the letters we did exchange were long and emotional and full of truths from both of us. I loved Tucker, in all the ways I could.

  For a while I thought I was in love with him and he was in love with me. Before he put that ring on my finger, I wasn’t so sure. I never spoke much about Tucker. The truth wasn’t mine to tell. But, I always suspected Maisie understood anyway.

  The girls never pressed for more, even when others did. They were just there while I waited for my life to start when he came home. Whatever that life would be once he was home. Sadly, I never got the chance to see what life with Tucker and our truths might be like. The girls understood what I was going through then more than anyone.

  Someone else getting the complexity of my relationship with Tucker, how his loss truly affected me, made the months after his death livable. While the entire town mourned him and the wedding that they never got to see, I started to move on. To consider a life outside of that place and those expectations. One that was about me and my own truths.

  Getting involved with Cage would end that. Would take away the chance I just took for myself. I would once again be a woman waiting for that phone call. Wondering if there was any possibility of a me without someone else.

  Even as Maisie went on, making it all make sense, I was withdrawing. Shuttering myself as I had grown used to doing now. Maybe I was just not willing to take a chance on someone like Cage. Someone who promised loss.

  “I don’t know,” I lied as I cut Maisie off, because I did know, “Mais. Cage may be worth it but maybe I’ll never even get that chance to find out. Maybe I don’t want to find out.” Okay that was a lie too. I wanted to find out everything.

  “Don’t take yourself out of the game because you might get a strike, sis. Could also get a touchdown.” I giggled because when she slipped into sports euphemisms, I couldn’t take her.

  “Maybe. Tell Sadie we can Skype this weekend. Tell the boys I love them but I don’t miss them. Miss you girls, though.” My voice got thick as a pang home sickness overwhelmed me.

  “We miss you too, Charli. You stick your ass right where you are though. Do this for you. We love you, sis.” Maisie was ornery but sweet and I loved her for it.

  “Love you too.” With a heavy sigh, I called goodbye and fell back onto the bed.

  It was still early and I needed dinner. Thankfully, I had fou
nd a few places I liked and there were plenty more to try out. After placing an order for some chicken and veggies and a bottle of wine, I headed into my office. Seeing the office almost completed, most my books on shelves and a few framed photos of my brothers and their wives, or all of us, made me miss home even more.

  It also made me glad I was here. I never got the chance to go away to college or even take an exciting vacation anywhere. This was my first dose of being away from home. It was scary and overwhelming but I loved it. Sitting at my desk to wait for my dinner to arrive, I smoothed my thumb over the tracker on my laptop. It came to life and I fussed with my glasses, squinting at the screen.

  A new word document was open. Just a few words were there. A Novel. By Charli Dixon. It started out with ‘The skies were clear and crisp, the sun bright over their heads. Callum was more beautiful than Ava’s heart could take....’ That was it. Not only did I not have a title, nor a good idea just how beautiful Callum was, I wasn’t sure I could string together two sentences.

  In high school I wrote all the time. On our tiny school newspaper, I wrote the most impressive essays in English lit, and eventually, my own stories. I had a few short stories completed and hoped maybe one day to complete a novel.

  I wrote for fun and I wrote because I had stories in me to tell. I read for the same reasons; I liked to read about other worlds, other people and places and their stories. As of late most those tales were of the adult nature, starring an Alpha male and a hot, kick ass heroine. My kind of tale.

  Which is kind of where my comfort in story telling lay. I was no J.K Rowling or even Stephanie Meyer. Though I loved the works of both. For very different reasons. The stories I wanted to tell weren’t on such grand scales, and ultimately were about love and relationships. But that cursor sat blinking at me because really, I didn’t know shit about either. Another reason toying with the idea of something with Cage was foolish.