by Peter Styles
Those words tore through him and he let out a low, raw groan of satisfaction. “Yes,” he hissed, “Cum for me now. Kommen!”
And that was it. Lights popped in my vision as I came with a strangled cry, my hands twisting hard against the headboard. I felt him tighten around me at the same time, and his cum splashed over my stomach, warm and wet. I felt like I was falling into oblivion, but I didn’t care—after all, I had Rick with me, and that was all I needed.
He rolled off of me and I collapsed into an exhausted heap. He smiled and handed me a tissue to clean off with. “Well, did that meet your expectations?” he asked. His voice was teasing, but there was a note of strained worry beneath it. He genuinely wanted to know if he’d done well.
I kissed his temple and curled against him. “It was more than that. It was perfect, Rick. Hell, you’re perfect.”
The sudden warmth of his cheek against mine told me he was blushing. “You’re pretty perfect yourself, Kyle,” he assured me.
And those were the words I heard echoing in my mind as I fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
The next few days were nothing but pure bliss. Rick and I spent practically every minute together, mostly just hanging out and talking. Nothing really changed in how we spoke to each other or what we did other than the fact that we were usually cuddling or kissing when we did it. Every night, we’d fall into bed—usually with some really excellent cardio thrown in beforehand—and we’d wake up every morning to Pongo lying at my feet and Minka, Rick’s sweet and shy tabby cat, on his chest. It was perfect, like we were living in this comfortable little nest high above the rest of the world. It was good—very good.
Remember how I mentioned that good things never stay?
Well, in this case, they ended with extreme prejudice.
Rick was asleep and I was about to drift off myself when Pongo started pawing at my shoulder. “Nooo,” I grumbled. “Really, Pongo? Now?”
She whimpered, and I sighed. “Alright, fine. Let’s go.”
I grabbed her leash and led her out into the front yard. She started sniffing around, looking for a pristine area to pee in. I waited, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes and yawning.
It was at that moment I saw an all-too-familiar orange glow at the corner of the house. It flared, and a figure in a black hoodie was illuminated. He looked up and froze when he saw me watching him.
I didn’t even have to think about it; I dropped the leash and ran at him.
He jumped up and tried to sprint off, but I was faster, more motivated, and I had a head start. I tackled him and pulled him to the ground, aiming a punch square at his kidneys. He let out a shriek of pain and tried to fight against me to no avail.
“Motherfucker!” I hissed. “You’re the asshole who threw the brick, aren’t you?”
A familiar voice growled back, “Why are you so worried about the little faggy kyke?”
I clocked him in the face. As much as it hurt my hand, it was worth it to hear his grunt of pain. “Shut the fuck up, Reggie.”
“I’m not—“ He stopped talking as soon as I ripped back his hood. Reggie blinked up at me. “Shit.”
“Yeah, shit.” I glanced behind me; the fire flared up higher than it possibly could have done naturally. I shook him. “You piece of shit! You poured gasoline on his fucking house?!”
He didn’t have time to answer. I punched him again. His struggling was becoming weaker, and a savage part of me hoped I’d given him a hell of a concussion.
I reached out, grabbed a length of garden hose, and tied it as tightly as I could around Reggie. I kicked him hard in the ribs, then once in the back for good measure. He rolled onto his side and puked, whimpering in pain.
I dug my fingers into his pocket. “Don’t touch me, queer!” he spat weakly, and I rolled my eyes.
“It’s your fucking pocket, idiot. What am I going to get out of that?” I found his phone and called the station. I barely gave them a rundown of the situation before I tossed the phone into the grass and did exactly what you’re not supposed to do: I started to run into a burning building without any of my gear on.
Say what you will about my intelligence, but I’d say that was a pretty damn brave thing to do. Incredibly stupid, of course, but I was hoping that the loyalty outweighed that.
I nearly ran into Pongo at the door. Her fur was a little singed in places, but she looked up at me happily. She held Minka gently in her mouth, and the little cat quivered with fear.
I smiled as Pongo trotted out to the lawn and set Minka down in the grass before curling around her. She looked at me, and I could almost hear her thinking, “What next, boss?”
“Good girl, Pongo!” I called over my shoulder as I rushed into the building. “Bleiben!”
Pongo obeyed, staying in place and watching guard over the cat while I ran in.
The house was, of course, incredibly hot, and smoke was already billowing up around my face. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled through the house to the bedroom.
Fortunately, the bedroom was central to the house. When I pushed open the door, I saw that the fire had only just reached one wall. Still, the smoke was so thick and noxious that I couldn’t even see Rick on the bed. “RICK!” I yelled over the roaring flames. “Where are you?!”
I heard several hacking coughs. “Here!” he called out through the fog.
I followed his voice, found the bed, and reached up. He gripped my hand, and I pulled him down, shielding his fall with my body. He was still coughing so hard that I was worried he’d hurt himself. The smoke smelled wrong, and it occurred to me that there could be lead in the house’s paint.
Fucking great.
“Are you okay?” I bellowed over the flames. “Can you move?”
He nodded, still coughing too hard to speak. Still, I put his arm around my shoulders and started making my way towards the living room where there was a sliding glass door leading to the outside.
The living room was a little bit clearer, but it wasn’t long before I realized that the fire had already spread to the lawn outside of the glass doors. I glanced back toward the front door, and the fire had already spread there, too. Reggie must have used accelerant around the entire outside perimeter of the house.
We were trapped.
Or at least, we were trapped until the door was kicked in and I found myself being hauled to my feet. I was dragged along to the door, which had been doused with water, and pulled an increasingly weak Rick with me.
When we got outside, Rick and I collapsed on the lawn. I laid on my breath, taking in deep gulps of air, while Rick coughed and spluttered. I saw lights in the distance, and an ambulance and a police car both parked outside.
My team, God bless them, had the fire out so fast that even I was impressed. My head was spinning watching them. There was something fascinating about being on the outside looking in. I realized that this must have been what Rick saw when we responded to his first fire, and I felt a swell of pride in my chest.
Everything went so quickly that it was dizzying. Reggie was hauled into a police car. An EMT checked me out and gave me a clean bill of health. They said they needed to take Rick to the hospital to check him over, but other than some potential damage to his lungs, he would be okay. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard that, and I watched as the EMTs started getting a gurney ready to transport him. Pongo and Minka stayed huddled around him.
The guy who had pulled me out took off his helmet, and I was greeted with Diaz’s grin. “You know,” he told me, “if you missed us so much, you could have just swung by the station.”
“Fuck off,” I said, but I gave him an appreciative smile. I didn’t know how to say thank you, and lucky for me, I knew Diaz wouldn’t want one. Instead, I just gave him a nod.
Rick sat up and looked around. “Babe,” I told him nervously, “Lay back down, okay?”
“No. I have to do something.” He struggled to his feet. “Where is he?”
I didn’t hav
e to ask who. I pointed to the cop car where Reggie was sitting in the back, handcuffed. Rick set his jaw and limped over.
Reggie scowled up at him. “What the fuck do you want, you dirty fucking kyke?” he spat.
Rick blinked.
And then he reached back and landed a solid punch square in Reggie’s solar plexus.
Reggie bent in half, winded and gasping. Rick looked at him with a proud smile. “You were trying to scare me, weren’t you?” he asked, sounding almost nonchalant. “Well, let me tell you something. My people have seen it all. We have seen every torment you can imagine. We have felt pain that you can’t even conceive of. My bloodline was forged in fires far hotter than this one.” He leaned in, nose to nose with Reggie, and he snapped, “I fear nothing, you little maggot. Especially not a little bitch like you.”
Rick turned back and limped toward me. Only when the police car took off did he agree to get on the gurney to head to the hospital. I went up and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m proud of you,” I told him quietly.
“I’m proud of you. And you saved my life. Again.”
I kissed him. “You save mine every day, Rick. I think we can call it even.”
He coughed again, but he still managed to get out a tiny, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I told him, and I watched as the ambulance drove off.
I turned to look back at the house. I wasn’t sure how bad the damage was; no one would be until the investigation. But at least I knew it wouldn’t happen again.
My eyes drifted down to Minka and Pongo. Pongo looked up at me, and in spite of everything, her tail started wagging with its signature enthusiasm and her mouth dropped open in a puppy grin.
I thought about my mom. I thought about the tadpoles. I thought about all of the things I’d lost in my life. More than anything, I thought about how good things always come to an end.
But for the first time, I realized I no longer believed that.
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He's a firefighter who's ready for the biggest fight of his life...
Tim Chen loves his job and his boyfriend, Nicky. In his eyes, he has everything he's ever wanted. After all, Nicky is a happy-go-lucky, sexy and and charming man. But his friends ad co-workers at the fire station see things very differently. Considering Nicky a deadbeat, drug-dealer with no future, Tim's fellow firefighters can't stand Nicky.
But when their power goes out and their bank account is overdrawn, Tim's anger and resentment explodes. Now, he's all alone and regretting everything. With Nicky, it was never about money, ambition, or success. It was about love. And now he knows the truth. Can Tim reignite a fire
he extinguished with Nicky before everything fizzles out?
In this 25,000 word gay romance, one man discovers the real meaning behind true love. With steamy scenes and heartfelt bonds, you'll feel the heat that encompasses them. But will one man's past be the one thing that destroys the fire that burns between them?
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Fear of Getting Burned
Peter Styles
© 2017
Disclaimer
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and events are all fictitious for the reader’s pleasure. Any similarities to real people, places, events, living or dead are all coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit content that is intended for ADULTS ONLY (+18).
