If she doesn’t text, I’ll hit up a strip club tonight or something. Maybe call a fuck buddy. Danielle or Misty? Hell, Jade or Michelle. I have a string of them. This girl pulling away from the station in her little Mazda shouldn’t matter at all.
How bout 6 at City Pub on Pecos?
I stare at the text message from Stephanie and feel a mixture of excitement and disgust. I thought she was different—wanted her to be different—from all the rest, but I guess not. Most girls play the ‘make him want me’ game, teasing and testing, doing shit like this. I can’t believe she waited until five o’clock to text me. Either she’s playing the game, or really just wants a free meal. Guess I’ll find out.
Ok, see u there.
City Pub is a cool little local chain and features some local microbrews, but I’ve never been to this location. The paintings of old cars and planes on the wall and the suede leather booths give it kind of an old-school vibe, but in a hip way. It’s almost like an art gallery, although a cold one. Why do they always keep the air conditioning so cold in these Vegas dives?
Turning to my right when I hear the server greeting me from ten feet away, I’m surprised to see one of the thirty-somethings that works at the SaveAll. Tall and blonde, she was probably a highly sought after date when she was younger. She still looks way better than average for her age.
“I know you.” Her friendliness bubbles over and I expect her to begin chewing gum at any moment. Maybe blow a bubble. I know this type, the ones desperately hanging onto youth. I can almost feel her silent begging for attention. Sad.
“And I know you.” I toss her a bone and feel a little guilty when her eyes light up. “SaveAll, right? I didn’t know you worked here too.”
“Yeah, Vegas is an expensive city. If you don’t hook or strip, the opportunities for single mothers can be pretty limited.”
That’s the truth. I often wonder why ‘normal’ people live in this city. It’s expensive and crowded, but also addicting in the energy that’s alive 24-7. Hell, I love it even in the moments I hate it. I get why she stays.
“Well, nice to see you again. I’m waiting on someone, but I can grab a table if one’s empty.”
“You’re here to meet Steph, right? I heard you guys were meeting for dinner. Be careful with that one.”
Taken slightly aback, I respond, “Wow, word travels fast around here.”
“You know us girls. But seriously, Steph’s a nice girl, and I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”
Awkwardly I respond, “We’re not really on a date, so don’t worry too much. I’m a nice guy, remember, I rescue people, save cats, leap burning buildings.” Damn, that was lame.
“Uh huh.” She’s not impressed. Walking me to a quiet booth in the back, she asks, “Would you like something to drink before your non-date gets here?” The sarcasm gets lost in the bright smile she’s giving me.
Since it’s a night of firsts, I guess I’ll have a brew I’ve never tried before. “Sure, let me try the summer seasonal. It isn’t too bitter, is it?”
“No, it is very light and refreshing. I like it, so I guess that makes it a chick beer.” She laughs, finding her own humor hilarious.
“Chick beer it is then.”
As she turns and walks away, I notice Stephanie walk through the door. She gives the hostess a big hug and is pointed in my direction. I notice Stephanie shooing her away, looking slightly uncomfortable as the hostess tries to hover. Oh well, I guess that’s the life of a single person. Always being teased and cajoled into meeting people.
Who is this girl? I can’t help wondering as she walks my way. One part shy, and then she shows up at our non-date looking hot as hell. She’s in a strapless sundress, one of those multi-color things that cling to her breasts and then drops to her knees, the skirt presses between her thighs as she walks. Damn, her tits bounce, they’re the perfect size. And natural. Unusual in this city of plastic. I can almost see them rocking on her chest as I rock into her, pounding into her body. I imagine her wrists tied to my bedposts, ankles crossed behind my back.
Shit… down boy.
“Hi Stephanie, you look great.” I stand, not only to greet her, but to rearrange my growing cock. I’m glad I wore a shirt that hangs on the outside.
“Thank you.” She blushes and looks at the floor. “No need to stand, this isn’t the 1950’s anymore.” She still hasn’t looked directly at me. What is this girl’s game?
“I know, but my mother raised me to respect women. Some habits die hard.”
When she sits down, I can’t help but notice her nipples through the material of the cloth. Like all Vegas spots, it’s cold in here and her body is responding. She crosses her arms, her hands warming her upper arms that have broken out in goose bumps.
My summer beer arrives just as Stephanie sits down. It isn’t a bad beer, not quite as strong as I would like normally, but quite refreshing nonetheless.
“Heya Steph. Want your usual?” her co-worker asks.
“Not sure, I think I want something new.” She points at my beer. “What’s that?”
As the hostess gives her the 411 on the beer and other selections available tonight, I watch her interact, the way she hides her smile behind her hand, the way she pushes a strand of hair behind an ear. How she bites her lip in indecision.
“Do you mind if I try a little of yours?” she asks me, and I peel my eyes away from her mouth. Damn, for the life of me I can’t tell if she’s shy or flirtatious. The way her eyes lift to mine, then flicker away. Does she do it on purpose?
“That’s cool. You don’t have any cooties do you?” She laughs at my pathetic attempt at humor and it’s a beautiful, musical one-note of sound. I push my glass toward her, just enough to make her lean forward. Yes, her breasts flatten against the tabletop, cleavage pushing up. Mmm. I’m already addicted to her tits.
“This is great. Get me one of these, Robin. It’s perfect for a hot night.” Did she emphasize ‘hot’ or is it my imagination?
Robin steps away to fill our order and silence settles between us like a wall. Why is it always the same? This first-date awkwardness? I can tell she’s feeling it too and doesn’t know how to break it.
Thank God her beer arrives; I’m ready for a second. Maybe this would loosen us both up a bit.
“Tell me about nursing…”
“Tell me about being a fire ...”
Our questions collide. We laugh and I give her the ‘you go’ signal to finish.
Still smiling, she goes on, “You got me thinking about being a paramedic, but I want to know the reality of it all. It can’t be all glamour. Is it like being a cop? Hours of boredom interspersed with minutes of sheer panic?”
The beer is taking effect and I’m finally starting to get my groove back. “No, it’s more like minutes of boredom followed by hours of panic. The cops usually get to stand around, controlling the environment after we show up, but not us.”
Looking up to the ceiling for the right words, I glance back down to see Stephanie in deep contemplation.
“It’s just that the accident really shook me up.” She rubs her arms again, hugging herself against the cold air. “I don’t really know if I can handle all the death and destruction every day. I have to admit though, the adrenaline rush was addicting.”
“Stephanie.”
“Please, call me Steph.”
“Okay, Steph, the adrenaline, the way you felt it, goes away after a short time. Sure, you get excited, but very few things can make me feel like that first call. Training and experience kick in; along with your survival instinct. After a while, the adrenaline becomes fuel.”
Her extraordinary eyes meet mine, lingering this time and her eyebrows come together in a silent question. “Seriously. It’s not like you become immune to the horror, you just start looking past it, focusing on what you can do instead of what you can’t.”
She bit her lip again. “That happened to me. When I realized I had to get all the others out instead of
staying with the injured couple. I hated that moment. Hated feeling like I was choosing.”
I wanted to reach across to her, stroke her face, comfort her. Erase the ghosts in her mind.
“You did good, and I’m not just saying that to get in your pants. You have great instincts and without training, did better than most rookie firefighters. Do you know how close that van was to blowing?”
She shakes her head no.
“Minutes,” I tell her and she shivers. “You did the right thing. I really do think you would make a great paramedic. There are very few RN’s that leave the hospital and become first responders and they are so valuable. Whether they become flight nurses or paramedics, it’s a blessing to all of us.”
Reaching out she leans forward, lightly touching my forearm. “I’m scared of being a failure. In the hospital, you’re told what to do. We follow a doctor’s orders. It would be a shame to see someone die, but ultimately I wouldn’t be in charge of life or death decisions. Doctors do that, not nurses. In the van, I had to be both.”
I wasn’t sure how to react. I was training as a paramedic and never thought I was playing God.
“Paramedics don’t play God, God does. I tell you what, why don’t you come for a ride along sometime, even tomorrow? I’m going to be training and they could always use some help.”
“Hey, you guys going to order dinner, or just drink tonight?” Robin glances at Steph’s hand on my arm and she gives me an ‘I’m warning you’ stare. “I hear the liver and onions are good.”
Gag. She has to be kidding. “I’m just gonna have a cheeseburger and fries. What do you want Steph?” I offer, not wanting the non-date to end.
“I’m starving so I’ll have the same, plus another beer,” Steph replies, a little embarrassed.
She eats! Another indication she’s normal. Not like the others girls I’ve dated. The ones who try so hard to be who they aren’t until you get sucked in and the real them comes out.
As Robin walks away, I just have to ask. “Steph… I know this isn’t a date, but ummm, why aren’t you taken? A boyfriend or something. I mean, it doesn’t matter, I’m just curious.”
Turning a little pale, she takes a long sip of her beer and looks right at me with those green eyes. “It’s a little complicated. Technically no, I don’t have a boyfriend. We broke up just recently, very recently. We were together a long time, so it’s kind of strange still.” She looks away again. “This is the first non-date I’ve been on in a long time.”
While my dick was giving my balls a high-five, I know I need to act sympathetic. “Sorry about that, break ups can really suck.”
She shrugs, and hugs herself again. “He didn’t take it well.”
I look at her closely. The bruises on her arms from helping with the accident were almost fading, but there were two, the size of thumbprints on her upper arms. Rage fills me.
“Did he hurt you?” Damn, it was early to talk about deep shit like this, but I need to know.
She shakes her head, her hands instinctively covering the two bruises. I know better. I’d seen it before, too many times, girls jerked around by assholes and they all looked exactly the way she looks right now.
She changes the subject. I’ll let her for now. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, not right now. I’m too busy between work and paramedic training. Besides, most girls love the thought of being with a firefighter until they see the weird hours and crazy stress. Honestly, I don’t know how any of my co-workers stay married.”
I grab a package of crackers in the basket on the table to give myself something to do. I tear the plastic off my rye crisps and offer the basket to her.
She grabs a pack of the wheat ones. “I completely understand the no time deal. I have my job and school full-time. I don’t think I could really handle another serious relationship now.”
I ask half-jokingly, trying to lighten up the mood a bit, “Does that mean we are doomed to always be on non-dates?”
Grabbing another pack, a smile comes across her face. “I guess so. But…” she hesitates, her fingers breaking apart the cracker in her hands. “I’d like another non-date sometime.”
I almost choke on my cracker. Is there no bounds to this girl’s cuteness? “Me too. How about this weekend?”
My dick twitches when she looks me fully in the eyes. “I think I’d like that.”
“Okay then.” I raise my glass in a toast. “To many non-dates in the future. Salud.”
Chapter 6—Stephanie
“A fireman? Really? I was only joking the other day. Tell me you love me.” I stare at the text message. I’ve not been home five minutes and this? I decide to ignore it. My business is not any concern of Jerome’s. Besides that, I don’t know how to reply. How does he know where I was? How does he know who I was with? Is he following me? The scary Jerome is creeping me out.
I walk to the door and look out the peephole, wishing I had a chain to secure it.
My phone beeps again: “Answer me. Are you fucking a fireman?”
Ignore. I’m going to ignore it.
Another text: “You little slut.”
Another: “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you that. I love you. I want you back. Let’s talk.”
I scoff at the next text message: “I’m coming over.”
No! My mind screams, and I run to the kitchen to grab a chair to pry under the doorknob. On my way back to the door, I watch in horror as it opens. Jerome walks in, a big grin on his face.
The heat of the hot desert night follows him in. I stand there in stupefied silence. A key. He has a key? Gathering myself, I try to appear strong. “You’re not welcome here. I didn’t invite you. Go.”
“Calm down babe. I just want to talk.”
“How many keys do you have?” I demand, reaching for the key in his hand.
Grabbing me with his other hand, he dangles the keys in front of my face. “Why are you in such a bitchy mood? Or is this just foreplay?” He pulls me to him, his face in my neck.
“Jerome, stop.”
“Mmm… you know how much I like it when you fight.”
I stop fighting, holding perfectly still. He laughs.
“You make me sick,” I find the courage to say. “I’m not interested in your little sex games. Not anymore.”
Grabbing my other wrist, he backs me against the wall and places his mouth over mine. I want to bite his tongue, but restrain myself. It might turn him on.
I try to push him away, but can barely move him an inch. I wrench my mouth from his, bile rising in my throat. “Leave me alone, I’m not kidding.” The words sound weak to my own ears. He grabs my phone from my hand and stuffs it in his front pocket.
He doesn’t answer, just pushes me down the hallway, one hand holding my wrists, the other pushing my shoulder. I’m afraid, the look in his eyes isn’t sane. This isn’t the role-play he favors. This isn’t about fantasy, this has gotten way out of hand.
I open my mouth to scream, but he’s expecting it. He pushes me into a wall, causing me to lose my breath. The hand on my shoulder moves to my mouth, covering it.
His face is less than an inch from mine. “What’s your little firefighter buddy going to do now? Rescue you?” He licks the side of my face. “Is that what you want? You want me to dress up like a firefighter and put out your fire? I will. I can.” He lifts a knee, pressing it between my legs. “I know what makes you hot.”
Hand still over my mouth, the other surrounding my wrists, he turns me until my back is pinned against his chest. He begins pushing me again, toward my bedroom. I try to stop him, dig my toes into the carpet, but I’m as ineffectual as an ant trying to stop a boulder.
“Let me love you,” he says. “I love you so much, let me show you, let me prove it to you.” His hand releases my wrists and cups my breast. My thighs are against the bed now and I’m pinned between him and the mattress. Think. I must think. I’ve got to stop this panic.
Maybe if I play along, he�
�ll let me go long enough to get away? That’s stupid. There’s no place for me to run.
Fight? He’ll only laugh, think it’s part of the game. It’s one of his favorites, me saying ‘no’ and him ‘convincing’ me. I can’t win, I nearly sag in defeat.
“Yeah, I can feel how much you want it. Nipples hard. I bet you’re soaking wet, aren’t you?” His hand snakes between my legs, finds my sex, the material of my dress the thinnest of barriers.
I shake my head, trying to shake his hand off my mouth, I taste blood from where my lip grinds into my teeth.
“Tell me about the fireman,” he demands, his voice a low hiss in my ear. “I can be like him. I promise. I’ll be anyone you want me to be. I can be perfect for you.”
I’m frozen in indecision, not sure which response will trigger his rage. The sound of my phone buzzing breaks the silence. He pulls it from his pocket, glances at the screen and throws me to the bed. I scramble away as quickly as I can while he reads the message. I’m on my feet, but in the corner of the room. I look around for a weapon. There’s nothing.
“I knew it,” he says, his voice a growl. “I knew you were fucking the fireman. Not even a fucking week after you dumped me? Slut.” He throws the phone at me, but I’m able to deflect it. It bounces off my hand and in the middle of the bed.
“It’s not like that, we’re just friends.” My mouth finally manages to work. “He’s helping me decide if I want to be a paramedic.” I’m disgusted with myself, why am I defending myself? But I need to calm him. I’ve seen him angry, but never quite like this.
“Liar,” he screams at me, but is distracted when my phone buzzes again. He picks it up, hatred crossing his face as he reads the message. “Your boyfriend’s on his way. Seems like you left your purse on your date. Should I stay and give him tips on how you like it? Or has he already found out?”
I’m shaking my head, holding my robe closed in front of me. Please god, make him go, I prayed.
He tosses the phone back on the bed. “You know what? You’re not worth it. Look at you… crying, you look like hell, I don’t know what I saw in you anyway.”
Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series Page 4
