FLAME (Spark Series)

by Cumberland, Brooke

  My eyes flutter around the bar in search of the voice. Next to appreciating a man in uniform is a man with an accent. I appreciate all qualities, thank you very much.

  The voice in question appears right in front of me as he walks up to the bar. For once, my voice is impaired as he asks for a beer.

  “Hello? Did you hear me?” he asks, giving me an odd look.

  I clear my throat and blink. His accent is smooth and captivating. “Um, yeah…I heard you just fine,” I snap. Usually, when I spot a hot guy, I want to throw myself all over him, rub my tits in his face, and tease him, but this guy…he’s different. He doesn’t look like the type of guy to want just that. Perhaps it’s his baby face and deep blue eyes that give him away, but I’m willing to bet I can change his mind.

  “Six fifty,” I say as I hand him his beer. He hands me a ten and nods his head at me as I grab it and he turns on his heel. I cock my head as I watch him leave, thanking the Heavens for tight jeans.

  “Who are you eyeing?” Julia asks, approaching me.

  “No one. I don’t eye men,” I retort defensively.

  She snorts. “Sure, ya don’t.”

  I change the subject and ask, “So, what’s the scoop on you and Winston? Still on a sex hiatus?” I try my best to not crack a smile, but I can’t help it.

  “It’s not a hiatus,” she fires back. “We’re just getting to know each other better, leaving sex aside for now.”

  “Sounds boring as fuck.” I roll my eyes at her. “Not to mention, you must be one horny bitch.”

  She huffs as she rolls her eyes back at me. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Hell no, I wouldn’t.

  “You two friends?” I freeze in my tracks as I hear the accent again. I inhale and exhale quickly before turning around.

  If it’s possible, he’s even more gorgeous than he was only five minutes ago. There is something about him—the way he stands, his deep blue eyes, the way his dusty blonde hair has that messy just-out-of-bed look, and the cocky smirk planted on his face—or perhaps it’s the combination of them all, because I can barely form a damn sentence.

  “You could say that,” I finally answer. “Who wants to know?” I cross my arms.

  “Well, you two just seem pretty close. Like really close.” He winks, leaning his arms down on the bar.

  “Is that your vague way of asking if we’re…together?” I muse, messing with him. I keep a serious face, though, ready to convince him anyway I can.

  “Yeah…are you?” He grins sheepishly.

  I look over my shoulder and see Julia re-filling the icebox. I walk over to her, turn her around and push her against the wall. Bringing my mouth over hers, I pin her down so she won’t squeal.

  “Just play along,” I whisper. Her eyes widen in fear and shock. “Hot dude at ten o’clock wants to see if we’re lesbians.” I plant my mouth on hers again.

  “But we’re not!” she gasps through clenched teeth.

  “So?” I grin, planting one last kiss on her mouth. “Okay, job done. Thanks.”

  I turn back around to face British hottie. His face is bright red with a stunned look. “Satisfied?” I ask casually, grabbing a glass off the bar.

  “Yeah…that was brilliant.” He’s practically drooling.

  “Well, to answer your question…” I pause, biting my lip so I don’t bust out laughing at how easy this is. “We’re not lesbians. We’re just friends. She actually has a boyfriend.” I nod my head toward Julia who’s hiding at the other end of the bar. “Or so she calls him her boyfriend. No fucking, though. So who knows, really,” I ramble on, biting my tongue just to stop the words from spitting out.

  “Really? So that was just a show then, huh?”

  I shrug and smile. “I’ll try anything twice.” I grin.

  He laughs and asks, “So does that mean you don’t have a boyfriend?”

  “Um, hell no.” I wrinkle my nose.

  He cocks a smile and says, “Good to know.” He winks just before pushing off the bar and walking back to his mob of loud, cheering friends.

  “Okay,” Julia says aggressively, grabbing my arm. “Explain.”

  “What do you mean?” I pretend to be clueless.

  Her upper lip curls and her eyes go wide. “What do I mean? We don’t kiss! Not normal, Riss! Why am I being used in one of your man-eating tactics?”

  “I’m offended you’d say it was just a tactic!” I press a hand to my heart. “I thought our kiss was special,” I say with doe eyes.

  “Oh my god, Carissa.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Okay, fine,” I confess, chuckling. “He’s sooo hot.”

  She turns her head and looks around me, but he’s already left. “I’ll take your word for it. But hey, next time, give a girl a heads up. I didn’t even have lip gloss on,” she teases.

  “No worries. They were smooth. Like butter.”

  “It’s a really good thing you aren’t into chicks. Your sweet talk isn’t very sweet,” she spits back, laughing. “And why must I be the lesbian in your little games?” Her face tenses.

  Before I can respond, Kenna walks in. She’s taking over my shift, so I untie my apron and grab my tips.

  “How’s it going?” Kenna asks casually, punching in.

  “Great.” I smile, punching out on the other computer.

  “Okay, what did I miss?” she asks.

  “Oh, nothing. Just a really hot British guy. Oh, and I made out with Julia.”

  “Why does weird shit always happen when you’re here?” She chuckles.

  “For the record,” Julia steps in, interrupting, “it was against my will. I almost tasered her ass.”

  Both girls go on laughing as I grab my purse and round the bar to sit on the other side. I order a drink and lay my tips out, making sure to give Julia half.

  “Looks like you’re ready to go to a strip club.”

  I roll my eyes as British hottie sits next to me.

  “I’m very close to getting a restraining order against you,” I tease.

  He shrugs lightly. “Wouldn’t be my first.” I watch as he takes a sip of his beer, his Adam’s apple moving smoothly against his skin. Fuck me, that’s hot.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. You kind of set off the creepy vibe.” He sets his beer down on the bar, startling me.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yup,” I respond, popping the p.

  “Well, shit. I doubt I have a chance in asking you out then?” He smirks. Well, he’s blunt.

  I chuckle at his words, but I try to hold it in so he doesn’t see past my façade.

  I grin as I let him down easy. “Nope. No chance. Sorry.” I collect the money off the bar and fold it nicely in my purse. I turn to see him still staring at me.

  “I’ve never met someone like you before,” he says quietly, yet with sincerity.

  “Someone who doesn’t rip their panties off right away when they see you?” I grin, knowing very well I am that girl.

  “Someone so guarded. You use sarcasm to respond to people.”

  “Gee, thank you, Dr. Phil, but I’ll skip the psych session for today.” Now he’s just annoying me. The little banter we were having was fun, but now he’s analyzing me, and that pisses me off more than anything.

  “What’s your name?” he asks, changing the subject. Jesus, this guy is like night and day.

  “Why’s it matter?”

  “Just curious. Nice to have a name to a face.” He grins playfully. I furrow my brows at him, trying to figure out his play.

  “Carissa,” I finally say.

  “That’s bloody beautiful.”

  “Yeah, well, my mother was high and my dad was drunk. The nurse named me,” I answer honestly, completely unexpected. It just came out. Shit…now he’s going to want details and ask wishy-washy get-to-know-you questions…

  He leans back a moment as he contemplates what I’ve said.

  “Never mind me. Sorry.” I lower my head, pretending to look for something in my
purse. I’m never nervous around guys, but somehow in the ten minutes I’ve known him, he’s already knocking down walls.

  “I’m Drew Finlay, by the way,” he says, offering me his hand.

  I stare at it blankly before taking it in mine. “Nice name.” I grin as our hands reluctantly release. “No horrible back story on how you got it, I suppose?”

  “No, nothing that even comes close to yours.”

  Smartass.

  “Figures,” I snort. “So aren’t you ignoring your parade of buddies over there?” I nod my head to the loud, cheering section the bar has now accumulated.

  “Nah, they don’t even know I’m missing. They’re too busy getting pissed and dribbling over the hot cheerleaders.”

  I bust out laughing, trying to get used to his British slang. I point at him. “Is this where you tell me you’re gay? You don’t like watching hot cheerleaders shake their asses in short skirts?” I tease.

  He playfully lets his eyes wander up and down my body before resting his eyes back to mine. “Nope, definitely not gay.”

  “That was practically assault,” I joke. He shrugs as if to say he wasn’t sorry about it, either. “So what’s your story?”

  “I don’t have a story, not much to say.”

  “Well, you must have something. Where are you from? What are you doing here? Likes? Dislikes? Give me something.”

  “Ohh…you want all the good stuff, huh?” he mocks, grabbing for his beer.

  “Sure. Whatever you wanna give me.” I eye him curiously, admiring his stunning eyes.

  “I’m actually here on a college scholarship. I play Football.”

  “Shit. That sounds hot.” I smile at the thought of watching shirtless, sweaty hotties playing on the field. “Er…I mean hard.”

  “It is. It’s hot and hard.” He rolls his tongue, making each word sound seductive and dirty. “I played Rugby back home, but was offered a Football scholarship. So I took it.”

  My body quivers at just the thought. Hot and hard has never sounded so amazing…

  “I’m actually here on a student visa. I’ll graduate in the spring.”

  “Then what?” I ask.

  “I’ll go back home to London where the rest of my family is.”

  “Oh, so you’re like a foreign exchange student?”

  “Something like that. The college is paying my tuition so I’ll play on the team.”

  “Wow…not a bad set up.”

  “Not at all. It’s been brilliant. I’m actually sad just thinking about having to leave.”

  “Hmm…maybe I can help make it more memorable for you…”

  “I bet you could.” He eyes me again, taking another sip of his beer. His signals are all over the place. I never take the time to talk to a guy or get to know them. His answers are sincere and honest, making me wonder what this guy is really about.

  “Well, Drew, it was nice chatting. But I have to drive home now.” This is usually their cue for them to ask me out, or for my number. And usually I just bring them right home with me.

  “Alright.” The smile from his face fades a little.

  A wave of sadness comes over me as I jump off the barstool. Part of me feels sad that he doesn’t fall for my obvious signal…which is so unlike me. I never have any expectations when it comes to men.

  “Bye, Drew,” I say, softer this time. Yet, he continues to sit on that damn barstool.

  I walk out to my car, depressed and confused that I just wasted an hour on a guy who apparently has no interest in me. I jiggle my purse to find my keys. “Fuck, where are they?” I continue shaking my purse as I’m quickly swung around, unable to grasp what the hell is happening.

  I’m pressed against a hard body before I realize it’s Drew. “Guess we can add stalking to your capabilities and criminal record,” I tease just before he cups my face and brings his mouth to mine.

  The kiss was—so unexpected and so damn amazing all at once. My purse drops from my hand before I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him tighter against me. The kiss is sweet, but eager, as he pulsates his tongue in and out of me, massaging our tongues together in desperation.

  I can feel his erection as he pins me against the car, pressing his body into mine. I so desperately want to reach down and grab him. I want to feel what I do to him, but his body is so large and hard, I hardly have room to move.

  He breaks the kiss slightly as his lips move down my neck and back up to my ear. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he growls. “A blend of sweet and tangy.”

  I swallow, unable to make words come out. He kisses me once more on the cheek before his body weight is suddenly gone. I’m left leaning on my car, alone, and wondering what the fuck just happened.

  7

  I’m still blown away by Drew’s sudden attack on my lips. He left without so much as a goodbye or a here’s my number. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but it does. One moment I’m sad, wondering if I’ll ever see him again, and the next I’m pissed off that yet again, a man has staked their claim on me and then just bailed.

  Ugh…what the hell is happening to me? I don’t think about guys. I dream of sex. Of multiple orgasms. But I don’t think of guys as anything more than just that—a way to get off.

  But Drew…yeah, he’s different. He’s a blend of sexy meat layered with a sense of entitlement. He knows he’s hot—he has to know. His muscles are practically popping out of his tight t-shirt. And I’m pretty sure I even saw some ink under those sleeves. Had he given me more than two minutes, my hands would’ve wandered up those arms and felt those muscles.

  Ugh…dammit.

  Must get Drew out of my head.

  “Fuck this shit,” I yell at myself. I waltz back into the bar, searching for him through the crowd that’s gotten rowdier since the next game started.

  I spot him near the back, laughing with his friends as they continue watching the game. I stalk over, grab him by the arm, and drag him with me into the back hallway.

  “Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” I let go of his arm once we make it down the hall where it’s quiet. “Fucking hell, you’re strong.” He rubs his arm with his hand.

  “What the hell was that?” I demand.

  “I should ask you the same thing, Doll.” He eyes me curiously, not giving away his thoughts.

  “Do you typically go around kissing girls like that and then bailing? Or am I the exception?” I realize I’m practically yelling at him, demanding answers, but I don’t care. He’s messing with me, and I don’t like it.

  He thinks for a moment before responding. “I suppose you could be the exception to many things.” He grins, roaming his eyes up and down my body again.

  I’m dumbstruck and bewildered by him. Fuck it. I grab his face in my hands and force his mouth back on mine. I’m not ready to leave his lips just yet—I need more.

  He happily reciprocates, wrapping his arms around my waist as he backs me up against the wall behind me. The kiss isn’t sweet and tender like before, but rather needy and aggressive. The intensity is overwhelming, but I give in and let him take control of the kiss.

  His hands roam down my ass and thighs, lifting my legs up as they wrap around his waist. He pushes hard against me, making me throb in between my legs as I feel his erection against me. Shit, he’s hard. I so desperately want to submit to my knees and take him in my mouth, but I don’t just yet. I’m too mesmerized by his mouth, his taste, that nothing else seems to matter but getting more of him.

  “Oh my god, Drew…I want you. I want you right now,” I whimper out. There’s no point in beating around the bush. I want him so fucking bad.

  “What do you want, Doll?” he asks, not parting our lips. “What can I give you?” he asks again softly.

  Jesus…the sound of his voice is so fucking captivating. Panty-dropping, heartbeat-skipping sexy.

  “Come home with me. Please.”

  What the hell…I’m begging now? I don’t beg men. But shit…I’m ready to be
g for him. I guess there really is an exception to certain wants.

  “Lead the way.” He smiles, reluctantly dropping my feet to the floor. I don’t say anything else as I grab his hand and lead him back to my car.

  The entire ride home is tense. The build up, the want, the eagerness of his mouth all over me—I can barely drive straight.

  Luckily, the bar isn’t far from my apartment. As soon as I unlock the door, he pushes me in, slamming the door behind us.

  He grabs my arm and pulls me against him as we stagger around the living room, tearing pieces of clothing off. I flip my shoes off and hear one bang against a wall piece.

  “Oops.” I giggle at the sound.

  “Hope that wasn’t important.” He laughs.

  “Right now…I couldn’t fucking care less.”

  I lead him into my bedroom and get a good look at him. I am a lucky bitch right now. Jesus Christ…why is he so damn hot? Seriously…I’m about to combust from just staring at him.

  His abs are perfectly sculpted, so firm and sexy. He has a little scruff on his face, enough to tickle my face. His arms are buff, and I can tell he’s definitely in shape from playing Rugby and working out. He has tattoos on both biceps with one side running into his chest. It’s stunning just to look at him. I’m practically drooling before I’ve even had a chance to ride him yet.

  “Well…are you going to take what you want from me or just continue staring at me?” He flashes a cocky grin as he walks backward to the bed. His knees bend and soon he’s sitting on the edge in just his briefs.

  “You are a cocky son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?” I fire back, slowly walking toward him in just my bra and panties. “Normally, I don’t let men talk to me like that.”

  “I guess I deserve some kind of punishment then, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, challenging me.

  “Oh…you’ll be punished, that’s for sure,” I promise. “Lay back,” I demand as I reach him. “All the way.”

  He smiles as he complies, putting his hands behind his head with an amused grin. He thinks I’m going to straddle him and take him that way…oh, how wrong he is.

  I always get off. And I will get off first. Lessons learned from previous flames.