“That can work. Mornings are usually slow. Maybe an accident, but you can leave anytime you need to.”
That smile again brightens her entire face. “Perfect. Where do you want to meet?”
Your kitchen, is what I want to say. My limbic brain is pissed as hell I didn’t take advantage of her vulnerable state. “How about Pancake Palace? You like pancakes?”
She gives me a ‘duh’ look and bobs her head up and down. Mmm… shit. I gotta get out of here, everything she does is erotic.
“Great. Pancake Palace at five.”
I move to step past her, but she steps in the same direction. I stamp on her bare toes and she wails.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Laughter and concern clog my throat. I grab at her and end up with a hand full of tit. Pulling my hand away like I was scorched, I laugh harder.
“You okay?” She’s on the floor, holding her toes in her hand, laughing and cursing at the same time.
“Cut it off. Cut it off.” I know she’s joking, but I also think there’s a good chance it’s broken. I centered it with my entire two-hundred and twenty pounds.
“Here, crybaby, let me see.” I pull at her foot and she reluctantly gives it over. Ouch. Her big toe is red as hell, already starting to bruise. I test for fractures and although she winces at the touch, I don’t think anything’s broken. I’m certain she will end up losing the toenail.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about toenail polish for a couple of weeks.”
“Great. Now my toes match my fingers.”
I glance at her hands, they still look raw as well. I lift her foot up and kiss her toe without thinking. Neither of us breathe. I kiss it again.
Then I’m on her, my weight pressing her down, her fingers digging into my shoulders, pulling me closer. Those lips, I have to have those lips. I find them. They’re as soft as I imagined. They open and I take advantage, plunging inside.
She moans and the sounds vibrate through me. Her hands are in my hair, her hips bucking up, her legs wrapping around my waist as she kisses me back. She’s so sweet, the little mewling sounds she’s making. I moan into her mouth and find her tongue.
I break away, needing air and she cries out at the loss. I give her no time to mourn, I’m back, licking at her lips, sucking her bottom one, feeding on her.
She gasps, turning her head to the side. She presses her hand to her mouth and when her fingers pull away, there’s blood on them.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” How many times do have to say that to this girl?
“No, it’s not your fault. It’s from… earlier.”
Her fucking ex.
I roll off of her and sit up, still breathing hard. She sits up and places her hand on my arm.
“It’s okay.”
That’s my cue. Time for me to go. I stand up, give her a hand to her feet. She limps just a little.
“I better go before I jab your eye out or something.”
“See you in the morning?” she asks softly.
No.
Yes.
“Absolutely. Five o’clock sharp.”
Chapter 8—Stephanie
It’s dark in the canyon as I drive. The city was too bright, too loud, too much movement—I needed to get away. I can see stars now, so unusual where I live, and they soothe me, as their pinpoints of light beckon me in their direction.
I follow them, chase them, willing myself to be closer. What I’m running away from, I don’t know.
As headlights cut a path in front of my car, I watch a dog—a wolf?—running up ahead. He’s to the side of the road, he’s beautiful. As I draw closer, my lights create a silver halo around his muscular form. Closer still, he veers to the right and is gone.
Despair hits me, as if I’ve been abandoned. I want him to come back, run with me into the unknown. But, he’s gone. I pull my car to the side and search for him. Long moments pass and I accelerate onto the road once more, feeling my isolation as a heavy cloak of it settles on my shoulders.
I shake it off. I continue to drive, my eyes firmly on the road.
There he is! The wolf! He’s back. This time in the middle of the road, facing me. He doesn’t pant, just stands there regal and proud. I pull closer, needing to see him better. He doesn’t squint from the headlights, doesn’t spook or turn away.
I can trust him, I realize. He’s an omen brought to me, but why? What is he trying to tell me? What am I not hearing? I bang my fists on the steering wheel in frustration, my inability to understand. Tears of frustration fall from my eyes and blur the beast in front of me. I rest my head on my hands, trying to calm myself.
There’s a knock on my window to my left, the sound triggering a surge of fear. When I look, it’s Ken looking in at me, his eyes filled with concern. I look ahead. The wolf is gone.
Opening the door, I reach for the hand Ken extends to me. “Why are you here?” I ask him, puzzled by his presence.
“I followed you. I needed to be near you. Does that make you afraid?”
Did it? No. Not in the least.
I look at our hands, how small mine looks in his, how his thumb runs over my skin, back and forth. Protected. I feel protected. Any hesitation I had, vanishes.
“I’m not scared,” I confess and take a step closer. He closes the gap and I’m suddenly in his arms. His lips crush mine, seeking and searching, punishing and soothing at the same time. I open my mouth to him, welcoming him in. He accepts the invitation and our tongues meet for a dance as ageless as time.
I suck on his, and he moans, the sound reverberating down my body to rest between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together, needing pressure. He senses my need and pulls me closer to him, until I’m straddling his thigh, riding him, grinding now with an urgency that’s hedonistic and raw.
His lips never leaving mine, he hauls me against his chest and walks me to the hood of my car, sitting me on it. Our lips break apart as he pushes me backwards onto the heated metal, the vibration of the running engine singing through me, quivering through every nerve. He pushes my skirt to my waist, exposing my panties. His hands on my thighs push my legs apart.
I gasp as tongue and teeth press through the material, the silken barrier increasing the sensations on my swollen clitoris. My hand finds his hair, pulling him closer, harder. He needs no further urging, he pushes aside the material obstacle and delves deep inside me, his hot tongue reaching into me as far as he can go. His mouth is a suction, pulling my lips into his mouth as he sucks, two fingers sneak inside me and I groan.
Waves of pleasure roll through me. “Don’t stop,” I beg. He growls his agreement.
Fingers pound inside me, in and out, in and out as his teeth work my clit, drawing it into his mouth, sucking hard.
I love it. Need it. Feel myself about to explode. “Yes,” I cry and I tumble over the edge, shaking with its intensity. Before I’ve recovered, I’m off the car, I’m turned around, he bends me over the hood and pushes my skirt over my ass and to my waist. In a flash, my panties are at my ankles. I kick them off as he kisses one ass cheek and then the other.
Zip. I hear the rustle of his pants falling down. Then I feel his hard erection between my legs. I want to see him, want to feel him, want to taste him. All of those thoughts vanish as he pushes inside and fills me in one hard thrust.
“Yes.” I’m impaled so deeply, filled up. I never knew pleasure until this moment. His hands circle my hips, pulling me back as he thrusts again. The sound of his skin spanking mine is erotic.
He finds his rhythm, in and out, deep and hard and then soft and slow. I’m helpless, at his mercy and my fingers try to find a grip, there is none, the hot steel resisting my attempts.
I feel his weight now, his front on my back as he leans over me, his breath hot on my ear. He pulls a lobe into his mouth, plunges a tongue inside, to the same rhythm of his cock. His hands find mine and our fingers entwine. I hold on, pushing my hips back to meet his thrusts, and feel his teeth graze my shoulder. He takes a bite of my flesh,
nibbles but never stops his movement. My eyes flutter closed, as if the task of keeping them open is too much. All blood flow, all reason is centered to where our bodies join.
“Yes.” Pleasure pain, the perfect combination. He sinks his teeth into the side of my neck and I cry out. “Too much.” But it’s not. I revel in the sensations and silently will him to bite me again.
He does and endorphins flow, sparking another orgasm. I’m going to come, I feel the rush, the primal clenching of my insides as my desire crescendos.
He growls in my ears, pounding into me. I find the strength to open my eyes, my mouth opening behind them in a scream so silent I wonder if I’ve been plunged into a vacuum.
His hand. It’s no longer his hand grasping mine. This one is silver haired and clawed, the nails piercing my palm. It’s the wolf behind me, I realize as teeth sink into my shoulder. I scream again, another silent wailing. The beast snarls and…
The strobe flash awakens me from my dream. Or was it a nightmare. I’m not sure.
Dazed, I look for the source of the light, the source of the sound. It’s my phone. It’s four-forty-five in the morning. Oh shit, did I forget to set the alarm last night? Is this Ken texting me, reminding about breakfast?
I can hardly see the message, the brightness of the screen is like a spotlight, but I make out the words. Not Ken. A shiver slides down my spine.
Jerome.
“Don’t want to miss your breakfast with your new lover boy…”
The shiver turns into ice. How does he know I’m meeting him this morning? Ken said he saw Jerome leaving the apartment. Did he come back? Spy on us? How?
Sometimes I leave the window open, especially when the air conditioning messes with my sinuses. But not last night, it was too hot. Plus, I’d barely been home when Jerome had shown up unexpectedly and then on his heels was Ken. No, the window wasn’t opened, I’m sure of it.
So how does he know? Before I have time to think about it more, my phone flashes again.
“Better hurry.”
I want to text him back, tell him to fuck himself. I don’t. Better to ignore than engage. I hope.
Dragging myself out of the warmth of my blanket, I get in gear. There’s no time to primp, almost not enough to shower. I pull my hair into a wet messy bun, toss on some roomy khakis and a t-shirt. A swipe of mascara and lip gloss and I’m out of time.
I pause at my front door, suddenly afraid, imagining Jerome outside my door. I raise onto my toes, wincing as my sore one takes my weight and carefully inspect the outside landing. It’s clear.
Holding my breath, I’m pissed that Jerome still controls me like this. He may not be physically here, but he’s calling the shots. With a shot of courage, I swing the door all the way open and step outside. No one.
Closing and locking it behind me, I try looking into my peephole from the other side. Nothing. I can’t see anything so even if he was spying at the door, he surely didn’t see our kiss. Not that I should care; we’ve broken up. I just can’t shake the feeling he’s going to be a pain in my ass for a long time.
When I arrive at the Pancake Palace, I see Ken already waiting inside. He comes up to me and plants a big kiss on my cheek. I lean into his warmth, the strength of his arms around me. He smells so good. I hear him breathe me in too.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says and lets me go. “Hungry?”
“For pancakes? All day, every day.”
As he begins to lead me to a table, I glance around the room. Oh my god. It’s Jerome, sitting at a table in the corner, eyes boring into me.
I freeze as surely as a deer does in a road when twin beams of light come bearing down. My phone vibrates in my hand, breaking my paralysis. I look down, it’s from Jerome:
“I thought this was about u becoming a paramedic. Not coming with a paramedic.”
I want to scream at him, throw my phone at him, beg him to leave me alone. This isn’t the place, even if I had the courage. Besides, I’ve embarrassed myself in front of Ken quite enough as it is.
Ken, bless him, is totally oblivious to my internal turmoil. It’s only when he reaches a table that he turns to find I’m not right behind him. He locates me and gives me a WTF look.
I shake my head and give him a ‘let’s go’ look. Crap, we’ve reverted to facial sign language. I clear my throat and manage, “Can we go?”
Not waiting for an answer, I cast another glance in Jerome’s direction. He’s smug, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the show. I turn on my heel and walk out the door. Taking a deep, cleansing breath of air, I wait for Ken. Seconds later, he’s out the door and at my side.
“What’s wrong?”
“My ex, Jerome. He’s in there.”
“You’re kidding?”
I shake my head and show him my phone, sliding my thumb over the screen to unlock it and let him read the hateful message.
“How’d he know you were here?”
I shake my head again and watch him scroll through the messages earlier. His jaw clenches, the muscle popping out in anger.
“I don’t know how he knows. No one knew I’d be here, not even Beth.”
He hands me back my phone and turns back toward the door. I grab his arm, knowing what he’s about to do, but he shakes me off.
“Stay here; I’ll take care of this. That psycho prick’s messing with the wrong guy.”
I grab his arm again, feel the heat of anger radiate from him. “Please, let me handle him. It’s better if we just go somewhere else.”
We both turn as the doors open. Jerome strolls out, a shit-eating grin on his face. “See you later lovebirds. Don’t let me ruin your plans.”
Ken moves toward him, his finger leading the way. “Listen here, you fucking prick. Leave her alone or you’ll be messing with me.”
Jerome laughs in the face of the much larger man. “Don’t threaten me, fireman. I know you were a black belt in high school, but you don’t want to ruin your little career. Or do you?”
Ken’s fists tighten until his knuckles turn white. Good sense fights with the need to kick some ass. I pray good sense wins.
It does.
Ken turns to me. “Let’s go.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and gives Jerome the universal one finger salute.
Jerome laughs, pure evil vibrating from his throat. He’s gone mad. I hear it. See it. The quality of the sound he makes is different than what I’ve heard before.
“See ya later, Stephanie.”
Why does that fuckhead always get the last jab?
The station is definitely a testosterone driven place. I notice all the guys staring at me as I walk into the building with Ken. The high fives going on behind my back are barely visible. It’s a man thing, these signals, but men are too easy to read anyway. I do my best to ignore them.
“Hey guys, listen up. This is Stephanie. She’s almost done with her RN and is thinking about being a paramedic. I asked her yesterday if she wanted to ride along, get a feel for our routine.”
One of paramedics takes his eyes off my tits long enough to look at my face. He recognizes me. “Hey, aren’t you the chick from the store?”
With a furrow in his brow, Ken responds, “She’s also the one who saved the old couple at Sunset, the accident the other day. The one where the drunk slob hit the church van.”
Soft murmurs of acknowledgment spread and the mood changes. One guy speaks up. He looks important.
“Well Stephanie, you did a great job. It would be a pleasure to have you working here. I need you to fill out a couple of papers, and then you can go hang out with Ed and Octavio.” He points at the two paramedics who tip their head in acknowledgment.
“Thanks,” I say and shake his extended hand. “I’m looking forward to it. I think.”
“I’m Captain Frank. I’ll be giving you a quick tour and we’ll complete those consent forms.” He leads me toward a set of offices. I look at Ken, but he just gives me a little salute. I follow the Captain, hig
h stepping it to catch up. He’s already in tour mode.
“I’m proud to say we’re an I.S.O. Class One fire and safety department. We house both the firefighters and paramedics for this section of the city.” He stops and points to a wall of certification and licenses. I nod and make the appropriate noises of agreement.
“Everyone in this building is trained as a first responder and holds a basic EMT certification. A call comes, we go out. Fire, car wreck, heart attack… doesn’t matter.” He starts walking again and I fall behind him, peeking into various rooms as we go. “Our building also serves as a training center for firemen, like Ken, who also want to become certified as a paramedic. Then he’ll need to pass the certification exam required of Nevada paramedics and we’ll have ourselves a damn fine double whammy, fireman slash paramedic.”
Finally, we’re in his office and he tosses me a ‘LVF&R in training’ t-shirt.
“Restroom is around the corner. I’ll give you a temporary badge when you get back and have you sign these.” He points to a notebook. I hurry off and switch shirts and am back in just a few moments.
“These forms basically say you hold us harmless of any injury—physical or mental—you might receive, even death, while on this ride-along. Still game?”
I scan the form and sign without giving myself too much time to think. I hand the clipboard back. “When do we start?”
I nearly jump out of my skin as bells begin to clang. The Captain breaks out into a big grin and says one word, “Guess.”
Chapter 9—Ken
Stephanie skids around a corner, looking around. Her eyes are so wide they almost eat up her face.
“Stephanie, that’s your cue,” Ed yells at her. “You can ride with us or in the truck. It’s up to you.”
Stephanie bites her lower lip, her eyes still wide as saucers. “What’s the call for?”
“Looks like another wreck on the 215, not sure of the injuries. You game or not?” chides Octavio. “Don’t worry, you can sit in the truck if it gets too hairy for you.” He cuts her some slack. “After seeing you in action the other day, I don’t think you’ll have that problem.”
Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series Page 6
