by Kacey Shea
“Faster,” I whisper into his ear.
He groans. “God, yes.”
“Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.” It’s all the invitation he needs. My fingers rake down his back, encouraging him to go deeper. Harder. Lust crackles between our bodies, a current powerful and all-consuming. I don’t even care about being quiet, and words fly from my lips as he gets me there. A burst of pleasure floods from my core and I tighten around his length as my body writhes with the intensity of my orgasm.
“Fuck, baby. I’m gonna come,” he says between hurried breaths, and then he groans into the crook of my neck as he pumps his hips once more. His body is strong and heavy above me, but he rolls us to the side, his cock still inside. His breath is ragged, his pulse racing. “God we’re good together.”
His admission brings a smile to my lips. I kiss him. “So good.”
“Like we were always meant to be.” He holds me close and I relish in the security of his arms. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve this happiness.”
I lean back to meet his stare. There’s a heaviness that comes over his features each time he brings up our past. I’ve forgiven him. The band has, too. But it’s part of our story and journey to where we are now. “We belong together. We always have. Everything we’ve done, good and bad, has led us here.”
“You don’t ever wish we met differently?”
I shake my head. “No. Then we wouldn’t have Axl.”
“Yeah.” His smile grows at the mention of our son, and that alone melts my heart all over again. He is such a good dad.
“I like that we met young.” I kiss his lips. “This way we have our entire lives together.”
“Be right back.” He scoots off the bed and goes into the bathroom to take care of the condom. I stare as he walks back into the room, his lean body as desirable as ever. He slides on a pair of lounge pants, the elastic band hanging low on his hips, and levels me with a smile. “Stay there. Naked. I have something to give you.”
“Okay,” I murmur, still staring at his ass.
He glances over his shoulder and meets my gaze. “Are you thinking about a round two?”
I nod and bite my lip.
He chuckles, a low throaty sound that scatters desire throughout my body. “Good.” He struts down the hall, but before I wonder where he’s gone, the man returns with a wicked grin and a pink pastry box in hand.
My stomach rumbles loudly. I guess refueling first isn’t a bad idea. “What did you get?” I tilt my head with a grin but he shakes his head.
“It’s a surprise.” He climbs onto the bed, two spoons in one hand, and the box in the other. He sits at my right and hands me a spoon. “Shall we?”
“Yes, please.”
His eyes gleam with mischief and now I’m extra curious about what’s under that flap. He flips open the top and the scent of chocolate hits my nostrils, but it’s the lettering atop the cake that takes a moment to process.
Marry me?
“We’ve only known each other a year, and it’s been filled with our fair share of ups and downs. But I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I love you, baby. I love you so damn much. It’s totally selfish of me, but I can’t wait to call you my wife. Will you marry me?”
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes and I can’t speak, because if I do, the entire floodgates will open. Thanks so much post-pregnancy hormones. I nod my head like a maniac, climb into his lap, and kiss his lips.
“That’s a yes?”
“Yes.” I kiss him again. “Yes, yes, yes.”
His smile lights up our bedroom. “You make me so happy.”
“You do the same.”
He leans back, one arm around my waist, and with the other reaches inside the end table. He digs around for what I assume is a condom, because yeah, he’s already hard, but instead he pulls out a jewelry box. A ring box. My breath catches in my lungs all over again. He really planned this.
“If you don’t like it we can exchange it for something else.” He pops open the top and holds it out for my inspection.
Big. My first reaction. Beautiful. My next.
He slides the gold band onto my finger. The center stone catches the light and I hold it out for us both to see. A perfect fit. “I love it. I love you. I love us.”
“I love our family, too.” At the word family my heart bursts.
“Remember the first time we slept together? The afternoon on the bus,” I say.
“I’ll never forget it.”
I blow out a shaky breath, nerves perking up at the memory. “You asked me what I dreamed of, when I was a child, and I gave you some lame answer.”
“Not lame.” His brow furrows and he pulls me close. “Nothing about you is.”
I bite my lip and worry it between my teeth. I don’t know why I’m so nervous, other than I’ve kept this from him. “I lied then. I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to scare you away.”
He cradles my cheeks with his palms. “There’s nothing you can say now that would make me run.”
“It was a family.” It feels so good to say. And even better when he smiles. “That’s what I dreamed about. A family. Being a wife and a mother, and so much love. That’s all I ever wanted.”
“I’m going to give you all of that and more.” He captures my lips and our bodies come together again, this time less rushed. As if we have forever to make love. And really, with the promises we’ve made in this bed, we do.
I came into the world believing I’d always be a hindrance to those around me. From my grandparents, to finding my sister, that it was my fate. I never wanted to be a burden, but I just was.
Here in the safety of Leighton’s arms, I realize that girl is gone. He’s given me the confidence and freedom to be bold. To be me. I no longer spend my days worrying or living in the shadows. The family I claim now—my sister, the band, and the one I’ve made with him—have fostered the person I was always meant to be. I’m worthy of love, I always was, and I will spend every day living this truth.
Are you ready for Austin’s story? It’s coming very soon and all Kacey Shea readers get an exclusive look at the first chapter now! Click here to download.
Did you enjoy Leighton and Opal’s book? Please consider leaving an honest review on Amazon, Goodreads, and/or BookBub. Thank you!
Want to be the first to know about upcoming sales and new releases?
Follow me on BookBub here!
For new release alerts, you can also follow me on Amazon!
Continue reading for a look inside Kacey’s latest releases, including a preview of her not-the-average-fireman-romance, Caught in the Flames.
Can’t get enough Three Ugly Guys? Read DETOUR and DERAILED now, the first two books in the Off Track Records novels.
Thank You
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Hinder and loving my rock stars. I hope you enjoyed Leighton and Opal’s story. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon, Goodread, and/or BookBub. Reviews are a fantastic way to support the authors and books you love.
Austin’s book is next and I cannot wait to share him with you! As you already know, he’s got quite a mouth on him, not to mention a secret or two to share. I’ll announce release details in my newsletter soon, but if you join now you’ll have exclusive access to the first chapter of Remastered.
Another great way to never miss a new release is to follow me on BookBub. Details for this and more can be found on my website www.kaceysheabooks.com.
Thank you again. I am forever grateful for readers like you.
Much love,
Kacey
Acknowledgments
It takes a village to bring a book to publication and I am so thankful for the team of individuals who supported this one. To my husband, children, parents, and siblings, thank you for being a part of my life and cheering as I work for my dreams.
Kerry, I don’t ever want to write a book without you. It’s that simple. I’m so thankful to share this writin
g journey with you. Thank you for always being honest. To my awesome betas Vivian, Rachel, Amy, and Rikki thank you so much for keeping up with this story. You always keep me going when I feel like slowing down. I look forward to your weekly emails so much.
Brenda, look how far we’ve come! Nine books! Thank you for editing this book and loving these characters. I always look forward to your comments and feedback. Thank you for all your support and encouragement.
To all my indie author friends who support me; from talking ads and marketing, to sprinting, to sharing this release, to reading my work, and so much more. Marley, Alexis, Indie AF, Band of Authors, Serious Sprinters, Scribe Syndicate, and to each and every writer who shared this book, thank you.
To my awesome proofreading team, Chrissy, Melissa, and Erin. Thank you for sharing your talent and time to make this manuscript clean and professional.
To my ARC team, Bookstagram team, and all the generous bloggers who took the time to read, review, share, and support this release. I couldn’t do this without you. Thank you so much for loving my rock stars! Ena and Amanda from Enticing Journey, thank you for organizing the cover reveal and release blitz. I appreciate everything you do!
Marisa, you nailed this design. I love this series so much and working with you is a joy! Thank you Wander for the perfect photograph, both you and Andrey are the best. Here’s to many more covers! Thank you to Andrew, your modeling skills amaze me and the expression you brought to this cover is perfect.
Stacey, the attention to detail you bring to your book interiors are unlike any I’ve seen. Each book is like unwrapping a Christmas present and I love working with you.
To my readers. Thank you for buying my books, for telling your friends, and for sharing Hinder. I’m filled with gratitude because of you. Thank you for loving my rock stars.
Caught in the Flames
Callie Gordon is more than a little obsessed...
I love firemen.
Heroic. Selfless. Brave.
Not to mention the uniform with those damn sexy pants...I can't get enough.
Imagine my surprise when local fire captain, Chase Matthews, wanders into my yard on moving day. I've hit real estate gold. Hot as sin with that all-knowing smirk creates an instant spark. Welcome to the neighborhood never looked so good.
But dating a firefighter isn't all it's cracked up to be. Chase keeps me at distance even when I attempt to break down his walls. A friendship with the nosy eccentric woman down the street reveals there's more to Chase than he's willing to share. I'm playing with fire and bound to get burned.
Secrets unfold.
Truths are brought to light.
Can I handle the heat? Or will my love for this man prove that sometimes even good girls have to burn down the house?
Continue reading for an excerpt from Caught in the Flames.
Prologue
I hate firemen.
I can’t stand their cocky as hell, arrogant, self-absorbed, oh-look-at-me I-can climb-ladders-and-play-with-my-hose goddamn attitudes. As if putting your life on the line and saving people on a daily basis gives you the right to do whatever the hell you want?
Which is why I’m standing outside my home, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a worn college T-shirt, debating whether I need to make this call. I really don’t want to make the call, but it seems the universe has other plans. Thick black smoke plumes from the back of my house.
Fuck!
Cell in hand, I punch the dreaded numbers.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“My house is on fire.” I rattle off the address.
“Ma’am, is anyone else inside the building? Any pets?”
“No, it’s just me.” Thanks for the reminder.
“We have a truck on the way, just hang tight. We’ll have firefighters on the scene in five minutes,” the operator replies, and I groan at the thought.
Shit. I look like shit. Because I work from home I didn’t feel the need to brush my hair, or teeth, or wear makeup, or get dressed today. I’m not even wearing a bra! Oh, hell no. I look down and yes, my nipples are clearly visible through the thin white fabric. The cool morning breeze has them fully erect. Awesome. A bang and clatter of wood pulls my gaze back to the house where flames lick through the rooftop.
“Shit!”
“Ma’am, is everything okay?”
“No. It’s really not.” I need a bra. A sweatshirt would do. My bedroom is at the front of the house. If I run, I can be in and out in less than two minutes. I stomp up the short cement drive.
“Do you know which unit is on its way?”
“Uh . . .” There’s a brief silence and then her voice comes back on the line. “Looks like Station Ten, ma’am.” Fuck! Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be? Fuck my life.
“I have to go back in the house. I’ll just be a second. I left something important inside,” I huff into the receiver and jog the rest of the way, then stop when I reach the door.
What? Giving the girls full support is important.
“Ma’am, do not go into the structure. I promise, the crew is on its way.” That’s what I’m afraid of. I pull open the door and the scent of smoke fills my nostrils. I choke and cough as the sensation burns my throat. Dry heat stings my eyes and I squint to relieve the pain.
I consider not going any further, but I spot my dresser through the open bedroom doorway. It’s taunting me. A mere fifteen feet and my rack—along with my pride—will surely thank me. There’re no flames here. It’s not even that hot in the room. The shrill sounds of the approaching safety vehicle spur my steps forward.
“I have to,” I rasp into the phone line.
“Ma’am.” Her voice is angry now, demanding. “Do not. I repeat. Do not go into the home.”
“Too late.”
The sirens gain volume and I set my phone atop my dresser, slipping my arms out of my shirt and through the straps of my bra. Cups in place, I sigh in relief and reach behind to clasp the hook in place.
Boom!
The force of an explosion throws me backwards. I try to catch myself but my foot snags the corner of my dresser and my body goes down.
Bang. The side of my head collides with the bed frame and my body crumples to the ground. My temple pulses and my view goes a little fuzzy. A haze of darkness blankets my mind.
Oh shit.
Chapter 1
Four months before
I love firemen.
I don’t know what it is exactly. The element of danger in the occupation. The bravery, selflessness, and honor they must possess. The uniform. Those pants they wear and how easily said pants can be removed. I assume anyway. Okay, so maybe it’s mostly the pants for me. No one ever nominated me for sainthood.
Regardless, my love of firemen has been ignited with the help of my realtor. After obtaining my first real-deal, full-time, post-college job, I’m ecstatic to finally move out of the cracker box apartment near campus and into this little single family in the suburbs of Richmond, Virginia. It’s less than ten miles from my office where I work as a graphic designer, but more importantly, the location of my house is a mere half-mile from Firehouse Ten.
Did I buy a house based on the fact it’s within walking distance of a fire station? No. That would be immature. And at twenty-two I’m a hard-working, tax-paying, responsible adult member of society and a law abiding citizen. I won’t lie, though—the station down the street did increase the home’s appeal. Besides, they say location is everything! There’s even a nice jogging path through the neighborhood that leads right past the open bays.
I’ve never been more inspired to take up daily running.
But running will have to wait as I still have another carload to empty and boxes to unpack before I start my workweek tomorrow. I blow an escaped curl away from my face and wipe the sheen of perspiration with the sleeve of my shirt.
I like order. Can’t stand chaos. And I find it impossible to concentrate while my house is a disorganized mess
. I won’t sleep until it’s done. Won’t focus at work tomorrow knowing that my forks and frying pans are shoved in a box under dishtowels. Or, God forbid, stacked under a box marked clothes. Which is why I’ve called in the reserves.
“Callie?” Alicia yells from the front door. Good! They’ve arrived.
“Come in! I’m back here in the kitchen!” I shout.
“You really should lock your door. It’s not safe,” Jill announces. She drops a box on the counter with a big thump. I smile wide.
“Thanks for coming to help!” I place the last of my dishes on the center shelf of my short, galley style kitchen and close the cabinet door with a satisfied thud. I turn and greet my friends with hugs. “You didn’t have to bring anything.” I nod at the box.
“Uh, yeah. It’s a selfish gift. More for us than you. Alicia thought drinking and unpacking would be more entertaining than not.” Her piercing blue eyes assess the mess. “And I concur.”
“Look, we even brought cups so you don’t have to do extra dishes.” Alicia pulls a sleeve of red Solos and shakes them in the air. “Best friends ever. You can thank us later.” She busies herself with pouring wine.
“I’ll do it now. Thank you. I really appreciate the help. And liquid encouragement.” I grin, take the offered cup and bring it to my lips.
“Wait!” Jill halts my movement. “A toast!” I lower my cup and watch as my friend nibbles on her lower lip. Her thick eyeglass frames rest a little too low on her nose, hiding the deep blue of her eyes. Her long blonde locks are pulled high into a messy bun.
Jill, Alicia, and I all met freshman year during rush week. After wasting a week’s worth of precious study time, we didn’t make it into our first choice, the coveted Kappa Delta. In turn, we commiserated by overindulging in pizza, along with half a bottle of vodka Alicia scored from her older brother’s apartment, and have been best friends since.
