Stoking the Embers (New Adult Romantic Suspense): The Complete Series

by Johnson, Leslie

  “Sorry, we’ve already done that several times,” I say, making light of what’s actually been a nightmare. “Thought we were going to break the internet—twelve million views last I looked. Ha! Big asses aren’t the only thing that can do it.”

  He looks at me like I’m crazy.

  I sigh. “Since you’re an ass man, I’ll have to show you sometime.”

  He grabs mine. “It can’t be more perfect than this one.”

  About then, people scream from a distance. Ken whirls and pushes me against the truck, pinning me behind him. Then he looks up and relaxes.

  “NY-NY rollercoaster,” he says and points to the carts of people still screaming their way through the ride. “One of my favorites.” He turns back around to face me and asks, “What’s your favorite coaster?”

  I look at him. “Well, um, I don’t know. I’ve…”

  His eyes grow big. “You’ve never ridden a coaster?”

  I shake my head and he looks at me with disbelief. “Why not? Are you scared of heights?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Growing up, I was always taking care of my dad, working, going to school.” I blush. “Money was always tight. So…” I trail off.

  “Ride it with me.” It’s not a question. It’s not a demand. It’s an offer, with a hint of playful expectation. I look up at the coaster wrapped around the building and fear battles with excitement.

  I look at him and nod. “Yes.”

  We come out of the darkness of the tunnel and, for the first time today, I really notice the sky. It’s twilight, and the sun has kissed the horizon, leaving a dazzling display of reds streaking across the sky. It’s breathtaking. Glorious. I remind myself that I need to look up more often.

  Below me, the city tries to compete with nature’s beauty, its artificial lights twinkling as far as the eye can see. It’s beautiful in its own right, accompanied by the heavy beat that is this city.

  From the tunnel, we turn the first curve and are then faced with a mountain of a climb. The cart engages with the pull chains and we clank, clank, clank our way to the pinnacle.

  I look over at Ken and he raises his hands as we near the top. My hands have a death grip on my harness. He looks at me and says, “Let go.” He raises his arms even higher.

  Tentatively, my fingers uncurl and slowly lift toward the sky as we reach the peak and inch toward the descent. Seconds pass as we sit on top of Las Vegas, moving closer to its edge and the bottomless pit of nothingness looms before us.

  Whoosh! I scream as we drop and are whipped to the left only to ascend again. We drop to nearly street level, riding alongside the cars on the strip. We’re in the sky again and then suddenly in the loop, the world revolving upside down around me.

  Out of the loop, we slow for no reason and I worry something is broken; we’re hanging out over the street. Then we curve and curve and plummet again before we’re tossed this way and then that, my hands still in the air, my body shifting in the harness left and right.

  We pass so close to Lady Liberty, her torch proudly up in the air. Then we spin and spin and it’s over, we’re back inside the hotel, looking down at the people walking the ‘city’ streets.

  My screams have turned to laughter and I pull my fingers through my knotted hair, my heart still racing from the experience.

  Ken looks at me, a little boy inside a grown man’s body. “Fun?”

  I laugh and say, “Let’s do it again.”

  We do ride it again and then he takes to me the Stratosphere Casino, Hotel & Tower where we spend a couple hours on even scarier rides. The adrenaline rush is addicting and we ride the X-Scream, Big Shot and Insanity several times. Then we stand gazing out at the city in the tower. I can’t believe I live in such a beautiful place.

  Ken stands behind me and leans down, whispering in my ear. “Can you imagine making… sex up here?”

  I laugh and turn in his arms. “Making sex, huh? That’s a new one.”

  He looks embarrassed. “You know what I mean.”

  “Making love?”

  He nods and kisses my throat.

  “This whole love thing really is new to you, isn’t it?”

  “Ken!”

  We both turn and there’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen beaming at my man. She has on the shortest jean shorts I’ve ever seen on a human and a plaid shirt twisted into a knot just under her amazingly large breasts. Her long brown hair is in pigtails and her lips are glossy pink. She even has freckles to complete the entire get-up.

  “Uh, hi.” Interesting, Ken is stammering. He barely turns in time before Daisy Duke incarnate flings herself in his arms.

  “I’ve missed you. Why haven’t you called me?” Her exceedingly plump lower lip sinks between her gleaming white teeth.

  “Well, I. Uh. I’ve been…”

  “A hero,” Miss Short-Shorts completes the sentence for him, her light brown eyes beaming up at him. “I saw it in the news.” Her hands wrap around the muscles of his upper arms. “That must have been really stressful. You should have called me. You know how good I am at stress relief.”

  “Oh, are you are massage therapist?” I join the conversation, being obtuse on purpose.

  She laughs and her eyes flicker down me, sizing me up. I apparently come up short because she ignores me and keeps talking to Ken. “How about Friday night?” She bats her eyes. Damn, I feel like I should be taking notes on how to flirt with a man.

  I look at Ken, who’s stepped away from her grasp and glances over to me. I blink my eyes at him and he grimaces. “Stephanie. Meet Daisy.” I almost laugh at the name—called it. “Daisy’s a member of the Ho Down Show Down show on the strip.” I smile at the other woman and see Ken visibly swallow. “Daisy, this is my friend, Stephanie.”

  Friend?

  It’s my turn to swallow… my pride and my hurt. I stick out a hand to shake the other one’s perfectly manicured one. Good grief, her nails are painted like the American flag.

  After the briefest of touches, Daisy pulls away, her hands firmly gripping Ken’s arm again. “What do you say? Friday night special?”

  Ken looks like a man caught in the headlights of a train while strapped to the tracks. This could either go two ways. I could be a bitch and run, screaming and crying. Or I can stand by his side, calm and secure in the love he feels for me. I have to remember he’s a guy and doesn’t do conflict like this.

  I go for Plan B and reach out and touch his chest, laying my hand over his heart. It’s beating wildly. I can even see the pulse in his throat. “Wish list?” I say and wiggle my eyebrows.

  He laughs and the sharp bark of sound seems to break his paralysis. He pulls me into his side and looks at Daisy again. “Sorry, Daisy. I’m busy this Friday and the next one and the next.” He strokes my hair. “Looks like I’m booked up for the rest of my life.”

  I can’t breathe and all the world disappears except him and me and the feelings we have for each other. The moment is broken when Daisy says, “I’m happy for you.” I glance at her and she winks, the first genuine smile I’ve seen on her face. “You’ve got you a good one here, honey.”

  She gives a little wave and then turns around, her ass cheeks hanging below her shorts. I look at Ken to see if he’s looking at her. He’s not. He’s looking down at me.

  “Thank you.”

  I smile. “Why?”

  “For not being one of those girls.”

  “Oh, you mean the jealous kickers and screamers who make every situation about themselves?”

  “That’s the one.”

  I smile again. “I have to admit, the kicking and screaming part came kinda close. Did you see the tits on that woman?”

  He blanches. I take that as a yes. He’s seen them up close and personal.

  He kisses the top of my head. “You can kick and scream all you want later tonight when I’m making you come so hard you almost lose consciousness.”

  I pull back and look up at him. “Has Daisy gotten you all ho
rned up?”

  “No way. There’s nothing sexier than the woman standing in front of me.”

  I know he’s lying, but I appreciate the effort. “She’s really beautiful. How long were the two of you together?”

  He doesn’t answer so I prod. “Or should I say, how many Friday Night Specials have the two of you enjoyed?”

  He lifts a shoulder, looking extremely uncomfortable.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I already know you weren’t a virgin when we met. But seriously, was there anything special between you two?”

  He shakes his head, emphatic. “No, we just hooked up on occasion.”

  “So you were fuck buddies?” I ask.

  He blows out a breath. “Yep.”

  “Why does this make you so uncomfortable? I’d never judge you on your choices.”

  He kisses my forehead. “It’s not that. It’s hard to explain. Fucking has always been fucking, you know. Get in, get off, leave. That was fine because that’s all the girl wanted too. I made sure I was only with those types of girls. Nobody clingy or expecting anything more. There were only a few women I’d see more than once, and that was only because they got it, no clinginess.”

  “Daisy was one of them?”

  “Yeah. It’s hard to talk about because it makes me sound like a man-whore. Nobody likes questioning their decisions or judging themselves. You know?”

  I think about my choices with Jerome and how harshly I’ve judged myself, especially lately. “If you ever decide you want that type of lifestyle back, will you tell me? Just up front and honest tell me? So I don’t have to find out some other way?”

  His eyebrows draw together, but he gives my question serious consideration. “That’s the thing. I don’t miss it. I thought I would. And I thought I would feel claustrophobic having someone in my personal space so much. I don’t.”

  “If that changes, will you…”

  He puts a finger to my lips. “In the moment, remember? Right here. Right now.”

  “Yes. Right here. Right now.” I lift onto my tiptoes to kiss him.

  “You want to go make sex?” I ask and the dimple in his left cheek flashes for a moment.

  “Mmm… I’m going to make sex with you. Then I’m going to fuck you. And after that, I might even make love to you before this night is over.”

  We do make sex later that night. Then we fuck. Then we make love sometime in the wee hours of the morning. I wake early and make him waffles while he sleeps in. I cut up fresh fruit and put everything on a tray.

  I wave a piece of pineapple under his nose, laughing as he sniffs in his sleep. One eye opens and then another.

  “I made you breakfast, Sir Ken.” I spread a napkin across his lap, then proceed to feed him, bite after bite after bite.

  When syrup drips onto his chest, I lean forward and lick it off. I spill syrup on his abs on purpose.

  Somehow syrup makes its way past his napkin and is drizzled down his cock and onto his balls. I settle between his legs and lick the sweetness from him. I get onto my knees and take him into my mouth.

  He moans and presses my head down harder, lifting his hips faster. I move beside him, never taking my mouth from him. He moves down the bed until he’s flat on his back, then he swings my hips around and I’m straddling his face.

  The first touch of his tongue makes me groan and work harder at his cock. I want to please him the way he’s pleasing me. His fingers dig into my ass as he pulls my clit into his mouth. He sucks and sucks and my eyes roll back with the delicious sensations flowing through me.

  He smacks my ass, then caresses the sting before lifting his hand and slapping again. I sit up and ride his face, grinding harder than I probably should have.

  I fumble in the bedside table for a condom and rip it open, rolling it down his length. His tongue is inside me now, licking and searching. I don’t want to stop this, but I’m desperate to have him inside me.

  Crawling down his body, I hover over him. His hands grip my hips. I reach between us and lift him, centering at my entrance. Then I lower and take in his tip. I lower more, until he’s fully sheathed.

  I lean back and this angle is heavenly, rubbing his cock at that delicate spot inside. I reach down and touch my clit, rubbing and pressing while rocking back and forth. I cry out when I come.

  Too weak to move, Ken sits up and then tosses me onto the bed. He’s back, between my legs, my feet on his shoulders. He thrusts, hard and deep. He reaches down and pinches my nipples.

  “Oh.” I cry out again as he takes me with such force. My breasts bounce with each crushing thrust.

  I love it and urge him on. “Harder. Please harder.” He looks down at me, his brown eyes on mine and crashes into me again and again.

  I feel him thicken, watch his face tighten, he’s getting close. I’m almost there too.

  I tighten around him and he roars with a final thrust. I watch his face, the pleasure that looks like pain. He jerks involuntarily before collapsing down on me. I welcome his weight.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he heaves out, his heart pounding against my breast.

  I wrap my legs around him and hold him tight. Today is our last day together. He goes back to work tomorrow. I hold him close, wishing we could stay like this forever.

  Chapter 8 - Jerome

  Crossing another day off my calendar, I rub my hands together. Payday’s coming soon. I log into my online bank account and wince at the pitifully low amount that remains there.

  Fuck. Only quarter of a million left.

  How did I blow through that much cash so quickly? Complete stupidity.

  My phone beeps. It’s another text from Anna. Why can’t that bitch leave me alone? I take a deep breath and tap the screen: Wire twenty grand to my account. Must pay delivery boys☺

  Do this. Do that. It’s a never ending string of demands.

  I’m immediately ashamed. No one has ever supported me like she has, helped lift me up to achieve my goals. Stephanie did, sure. In a way. But she wasn’t smart like Anna. Steph didn’t have the long term vision.

  Anna’s tough. Street wise. Heartless.

  Steph is sweet. Tender. Innocent. And worth a fucking bundle. Who knew blonde hair and green eyes were all the craze?

  Beth the Bitch won’t come close to the price we’ll get from Steph. I’ll be sure to tell her that her skanky ass was sold on discount, practically a ‘buy one, get one’ if truth be told. I might even tell her that while I fuck her myself. Teach her to reject me years ago.

  I absolutely want one more shot at Steph. Show her what’s she’s been missing. Anna’s taught me a lot. About control. Stamina. How to really please a woman. How to please myself and get what I want.

  Maybe I’ll fuck both of them together. Make them lick each other while I’m at it. They might as well get used to it. In the future, they might have to please men or women. According to Anna, many people at once.

  Tapping up another computer screen, I pull up Stephanie’s new phone number. It hadn’t been easy to crack the cheap disposable the firefuck had purchased. Believe it or not, it was even harder than busting into the encrypted phone the freakin’ feds gave her.

  I open another tab and log into the proxy server. India it is. Less than a minute later, I’m blasting past the security walls of Stephanie’s school. I want to do her a little favor before she’s shipped overseas. I snicker… she’ll be a highly paid whore, but at least she’ll have a stellar GPA.

  It still amazes me how easy it is to break into servers. Even in this day and age of ‘heightened’ security. Your kid’s birthday, come on, make it difficult for once. Of course, even the difficult ones are relatively easy with the technology I’ve created. I really wish now I hadn’t sold it to ComTech; other countries pay much better. Of course, my new design makes the old technology geriatric. Korea really wants it bad. So does China. I like the idea of a pricing war.

  Back at the task at hand.

  login: jstarnes


  password: 13109

  A few minutes later, Stephanie’s grades flash upon the screen. I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Current GPA: 2.3

  I laugh. “Come on, Steph. You can do better than that.”

  I don’t want to make it too obvious, but a 3.8 would be good. Let’s see, the F I’d given her on the last capstone test, I’ll change to a B to look more natural. Shit, I’m even going to raise a few bad quizzes. It’s probably my fault she blew those. Okay, 3.7—that will work.

  Shit, shit, shit. What about Beth? I’m tempted to leave her 1.9 alone, serves the bitch right. I never liked her smart mouth.

  Eenie Meenie Miney Moe

  Beth Richards is a little ho.

  But… I probably should raise it. Not a 3.7, but maybe a high B. Not that it will help her where she’s going.

  If she hollers make her pay,

  With a cock stuffed in her every which way.

  I adjust a few grades until the final GPA reads 3.2. Good enough. I’m tempted to make it a 2.9, still a B, but realize I’m spending too much time of this. I have other things to do.

  Before I close out of the system, I notice another name: Margaret Fletcher.

  Margie Margie pudding pie.

  Kissed Jerome and made him cry.

  Marge Fletcher was another girl who could have been mine. I remember her clearly. A little gothy, but that was the thing back then. I really liked her, until I found her fucking a jock.

  Just for fun, I reduce her 3.1 to a 2.1. Ha! Take that, bitch.

  Then I log out and go through the process of covering my virtual tracks. Whoever tries to find out who did this little hack will be taking a tour around the world.

  Ding dong.

  I wait. And wait and wait.

  I’m not supposed to press the doorbell again, but I can’t help myself.

  Ding dong.

  I’m tempted to beat on the door. I need her. Why doesn’t she see that?

  The door jerks open and she’s there. In that robe. The robe I fell in love with her in. She doesn’t look pleased to see me. “Yes, Jerome. Why are you here?”

  I’m crestfallen. Then I piece it together.