FLAMEOVER
An Everyday Heroes World Novel
By Esther E. Schmidt
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.
© 2020 KB WORLDS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.
Published by KB Worlds, LLC.
Cover Design by: Esther E. Schmidt
Cover Model: Joe Wachs
Cover Image by: Reggie Deanching / rplusmphoto.com
Editing by: Christi Durbin & Virginia Tesi Carey
Formatting by: Esther E. Schmidt
Published in the United States of America
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the Everyday Heroes World!
I’m so excited you’ve picked up this book! Flameover is a book based on the world I created in my USA Today bestselling Everyday Heroes Series. While I may be finished writing this series (for now), various authors have signed on to keep them going. They will be bringing you all-new stories in the world you know while allowing you to revisit the characters you love.
This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I allowed them to use the world I created, I took no part in the writing or editing of the story. All praise can be directed their way.
I truly hope you enjoy Flameover. If you’re interested in finding more authors who have written in the KB Worlds, you can visit https://www.kbworlds.com.
Thank you for supporting the writers in this project and me.
Happy Reading,
K. Bromberg
PROLOGUE
Four years ago
– KAIN –
A wise man used to say, “It’s not your eyes giving you the visual, it’s your brain converting the information, allowing you to see what’s right in front of you.”
The wise man being my adoptive father, Broke Lawson. The one who raised me into the man I am today. I consider Broke my father in all ways since my biological father died when I barely had taken my first step. I might not remember my biological parents, but my adoptive parents made sure I knew who they were.
It’s also the very reason I wanted to become a firefighter. Just like my biological father. Okay, it’s also because Depay—a good friend and former colleague of my biological father—has been a massive part of my life as well. And with Depay being a firefighter EMT, let’s say it’s in my blood and has been an active part of my life.
I release a deep breath and I cross my arms in front of my chest while I watch some chick walk away. She basically gave up trying to catch my attention when I straight out ignored her. Tight skirt, big tits, model like figure and yet I show no interest at all because I could clearly see the dollar signs in her eyes.
Growing up in a motorcycle club where your dad’s the vice president—and a very wealthy man—really gives perspective on things. Mainly on women, but all people really. I learned the hard way how there are different kinds of people in the world. Most thrive on personal gain, some have respect, while others are anywhere in between. Yeah, I might be a young dude at the age of twenty, but I have got an old soul whose brain is drenched with information.
I like seeing what makes people tick. I blame it on Broken Deeds MC. The club takes cases the government hands them in secret to take on and gets justice by any means necessary. You might say growing up I skipped on jigsaw puzzles and jumped straight into solving cases along with my Broken Deeds MC family. It gave me a lot of specialized education.
Maybe that’s why I haven’t found a girl who spiked my interest; I’m too observant, always suspicious, and never let my guard down. And, dammit, for once I would like to have a chick interested in me for who I am; the guy behind the muscle and the cash in my name.
Some of it is probably my own fault because I’m standing here in the lobby of my hotel in Vegas looking like I own the place—which I do. The chick who tried to spike my interest overheard the manager introduce someone to me, making it clear to her I was the owner. Hence the dollar signs in her eyes when she noticed a potential sugar daddy.
My father always said it would be easier to keep distance while running a business. Though I always liked the more hands on, personal approach. Meaning my name is on the wall as the owner to give it a personal touch. I want the people staying in my hotel, spending their money in my casino, to know it belongs to a person not a company who only wants to suck all their money away.
This is also why I travel to Vegas every now and then to show my face and make sure everything runs fluidly. I never cared much about the bright city life, the massive cash flow, and especially not the easy, money hungry women who want to dig their nails into my skin and never let go. Well, maybe they do let go once the money is gone. Like I said, for once I would like to have a woman see me. Not the nametag, not the money, just me.
This is also one of the reasons why I moved to a small town six months ago when there was a job opening for a firefighter at Fire Station 13. The other reason is because of the link with my biological family’s background. I wanted to feel connected even though there are no living biological family members of mine left.
You might think my life is boring. And yet it’s anything but since I’m always bouncing between being a member of Broken Deeds MC, a business owner with millions to my name, and my job as a firefighter.
Though I relish in the way I’ve been living my life for the past few months. The long ride on my bike to the clubhouse gives me what I need to clear my head, the small town gives me the low profile I crave in stark contrast to being here in Vegas.
I roll my shoulders and glance at the doors of the conference room. The reason I left Sunnyville yesterday and hopped on a private jet to Vegas was to show my face at a board meeting this morning. Also, since I wanted to attend a convention about hydraulic pumps, which was being held in the conference rooms of my hotel.
Main discussion points? Hydraulics, pumps, and water supply. I’m a firefighter, needless to say it catches my attention. Plus, it was held in my hotel and I needed to be here for the board meeting anyway. I have to say, the convention was pretty well organized too. I make a mental note to compliment the company who set it up.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me I need to grab a late dinner. I don’t feel up to eating by myself in the restaurant and decide to head for my room to order some room service instead. I grab my phone and check my messages while heading toward the elevators. I only manage a few steps before someone bumps into me.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” a modest voice whispers in a chant as she squats down to gather the papers she dropped.
Seeing I was half responsible, I squat
down to help. “No need to be sorry. I wasn’t paying attention either. Here—”
I hold out the stack of papers for her to take and my words falter as soon as our eyes meet. Damn. I never knew liquid silver could be captivating. Her delicate features and her dark blonde hair tied in a bun while some strands frame her face give her an innocent appearance.
She swallows hard and those magnificent eyes go down as she releases a tiny chuckle and says, “Good thing you’re not the manager. I accidentally bumped into him yesterday and almost got my head chewed off.”
Anger instantly surges through me. “You’re kidding me, right? Did he really? I’ll be sure to address him about his behavior. What’s your name so I can address this incident accordingly?”
Her eyes go wide and she places her tiny hand on my forearm. “Please don’t. Seriously, it was my fault. I also bumped into you, didn’t I? Oh, talk about embarrassing. You work here? Great. Good thing the convention is over and my plane out of here is bright and early tomorrow morning. I’d better head up to my room, order room service, and stay out of people’s way until then. Shit. Where are my manners? I’m Leontine. Can you maybe point me in the direction of someone who can sign some papers for me? Well, other than the manager, obviously. Ugh. Never mind, I’ll just drop the documents off tomorrow morning before I leave. And I’m rambling. Again, I’m sorry. I’m . . . I’m gonna go. It was nice meeting you, bumping into you, whatever.” Her cheeks pink up and she fumbles awkwardly with the stack of papers she’s holding.
The corner of my mouth twitches. She doesn’t have a damn clue who I am and she’s utterly adorable. She glances at the papers she’s holding and when my eyes hit them, I can clearly read my name on those papers.
“I need to order room service too,” I muse and stare at my name.
“Would you like to join me for a late dinner? Seeing we were both heading for our room to order room service we might as well enjoy each other’s company along with it.” My eyes slide up when her words settle, and I watch how the red blush deepens on her cheeks as she starts to sputter in an effort to take the words she just voiced back.
A sly smile spreads across my face and I can’t help but tease her. “Now Leontine, are you flirting with me? Offering to take me up to your room.” Leaning in closer, I add on a husky whisper, “You’d better be prepared to hand feed me, because if so . . . I might return the favor.”
The hitch in her breath and the shiver running through her is enough to make me painfully hard.
She guides some of her dark blonde hair that’s fallen from her messy bun behind her ear and surprises the hell out of me when she says, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
We stare at one another and I swear an electricity bolt of lust and desire crackles between us, heating up the vibe of what’s to come. And we will come, the both of us multiple times, I’ll make damn sure.
“What’s your room number?” I croak and wrap my fingers around her elbow to guide her to the elevator.
She rattles off her room number and I instantly recognize the number as being the honeymoon suite. My steps falter and my voice comes out a bit harsh as I say, “Mind explaining why you’re inviting a stranger up into the honeymoon suite? Your husband won’t be pleased, and I might as well add the fact that I’m not up for a trio when it comes to adding another dude into the mix.”
Her eyes go wide again but they flash to mischief as she releases a chuckle along with it. “No husband. I just wanted the nicest suite but the presidential suite was taken and this one was the only one left.”
“Well then.” I feel a smirk spreading my face.
I want to give a remark but she tilts her head and says, “But you are a complete stranger. A nameless stranger. Mind giving me your name before we take this any further?”
Shit. When I tell her my name she’ll know I’m the owner. Even if I’m extremely attracted to her, I’m not ready for her to know who I am since she’s booked a suite and even wanted an expensive one. Maybe to up expenses or some other money angle.
Without thinking I give her the first name that comes to mind, which happens to be of a friend and colleague of mine. “Grady. Grady Scott Malone.”
A sensual smile tugs her lips. “A stranger no more, Grady. Or do you prefer Scott?” she questions as the both of us step inside the elevator.
I let the doors slide closed and hit the button to take us to the correct floor. Leaning into her personal space the moment the elevator starts to move, I tell her, “Whichever you decide to scream during the many orgasms I plan to give you.”
All the papers she was holding slide yet again to the floor as our bodies collide in a frenzy of hands on, mouth crashing, tongues fighting, as insane lust takes over. The clearing of a throat makes me rip my lips away from her. I see the manager standing in the opening of the doorway, his hand slightly raised to prevent the doors from closing.
I never really liked the guy and hearing Leontine mention his outburst when she bumped into him only makes me dislike him even more. Not to mention the judgmental look on his face which is directed at the woman I’m still holding in my arms.
Taking a step away, I let my arm slide to her lower back and guide her out of the elevator. Stopping right next to the manager I snap, “Pick up those papers and leave them on my desk so I can find them tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir,” he says through gritted teeth.
Dismissing him, I stride to the door of the honeymoon suite and practically drag her along with me.
“Open the door, Lee,” I tell her, while I can easily grab the card from my slacks and open it myself. I can open any room in this hotel for that matter since I own the damn building but fuck if I want her to know.
This night is between us; two people who burn to take advantage of each other. Well, that’s my opinion and the way her hands are all over me once the door slams shut behind us, I’d say she’s on the same page.
The buttons that were stitched to the fabric of her blouse go flying and bounce on the floor when I rip it open to expose the sexy as fuck lace bra keeping her breasts in line—not for long they won’t, I need to set those puppies free.
First, I need to know something seeing as my dick is itching to get inside her, and the way this feels is different than any woman I’ve held, I’d like to experience it all without a damn barrier in between.
With both my hands I cup her face and stare into those liquid silver depths. “I’m clean, you?”
“Clean,” she breathes.
“Are you on the pill? Do we need protection? I’d rather feel all of you but I’ll grab a condom if you want—”
“No, no condom,” she cuts me off a little too eager and it makes me pause but when her tongue slides over my bottom lip, biting down slightly before she devours my mouth while her hands tear at my slacks, all sanity evaporates.
I do know one thing for sure as I sink myself bare and deep into her tight, hot body; I’m going to be spending the rest of the night inside this woman. One night might not be enough to get my fill and I already regret not giving her my own name. Come morning I will set her straight and give her my real name along with an explanation. And I’ll be sure to ask for her number before I have to head back to Sunnyville.
Though, when I open my eyes the next morning, all there’s left are cold sheets beside me and memories of the best night in my life.
CHAPTER ONE
Present day
– LEONTINE –
Tears sting my eyes but I refuse to let them spill. Another flare of stabbing pain shoots through my ankle at the same time a window shatters. I swallow hard as I see thick smoke swirl angrily inside my house while firefighters are shattering the windows to let the smoke out in an effort to save the house. The house Deni, my three-year-old daughter, and I moved into a mere few days ago.
It was more of an escape, an effort to reboot my life. My father died three weeks ago and the walls of my old house started to close in on me. I simply had to do som
ething that would completely rip me out of the state of mind I was dragging myself deeper into. Hence the spur of the moment—pack everything up—and move to Sunnyville action.
Why did I pick Sunnyville? Because of sentimental reasons as this is where my daughter’s biological father lives or lived. Who knows if it’s true because he lied to me. I tried to contact him one single time after our one-night stand. I had to reach out when I knew I was pregnant. That’s when I realized he lied to me. Another harsh reminder hits me since her biological father doesn’t know of Denise’s existence.
It’s not that I didn’t want him to know, I really did. I knew his name and the fact he was a firefighter in Sunnyville. Not as hard to track down, so I called the firefighter’s station and asked for Grady Scott Malone. I was told his wife had an emergency and that he was out for the day.
Great, right? Have a one-night stand with a guy—best night of my life—only to find out he’s a cheating asshole. He must have thought the whole cliché about whatever happens in Vegas was a great excuse to get his rocks off without his wife knowing.
Okay, I might have a few secrets of my own, but come on, he cheated on his wife. A freaking wife. If I knew he was married I never would have ended up in bed with him. Needless to say, I instantly hung up the phone and didn’t bother to try and contact him again. I decided right then and there I would raise Denise on my own.
I’m honest enough to admit it had been my plan all along; to become a single mom. Well, I didn’t exactly plan to land in bed with Grady, it was more like a tiny window of opportunity, a spur of the moment, last minute decision. A fifty-fifty shot of getting pregnant. And I did reach out to him to let him know, but yeah . . . married. Shocking. Even more shocking than the whole pee on a stick and realizing I was in fact knocked-up thing.
I gasp when another glass window shatters. Denise yelps and hugs me tighter. Why can’t I catch a break for once? Between dealing with the grief of losing my father, maintaining the company, and dealing with the creep who thinks he now has the right to run the place. All while I try to be there for Denise. And now this.
Flameover: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 1
