Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3)

by Starling,Amy

  “After he had one of his outbursts, he'd shut himself in his room for days. Refused to come out, to eat meals or even talk to us. He and us girls had always been close, so you can imagine how this was for us.” I wiped away a tear. “Jenna always tried to talk sense into him. She was young; she didn't understand why he would ignore her when he claimed to love us.”

  “And nobody ever found out what was wrong with him?”

  “Dad washed his hands of the whole thing and said Charlie just needed a good beating to knock some sense into him. He was never the sort who believed in mental illness, even though it was clear that he was very sick.”

  I stabbed at my fish, suddenly not so hungry anymore.

  “Mom didn't live with us then – she'd married some other guy – but still took him to a psychiatrist. She claimed he had all kinds of problems: bipolar, depression, anxiety, with a dash of autistic tendencies too. They tried dozens of medications and therapy, but none of it worked for long. Once we thought we found the right drug, but it turned out Charlie was only pretending to be better so he could stop seeing the doctor every week.”

  Brett squeezed my hand. “I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I know what it's like to have family problems.”

  “It only got worse. When our house burned down, it triggered something in him. He needed routine and familiar surroundings to be even a tiny bit normal. Suddenly, his whole word was gone. He snapped.”

  Our family had moved into a hotel at that point while dad looked for a home we could rent. Charlie didn't accept that well at all.

  “One morning, he was acting different. Quieter and more withdrawn. We were getting ready for work and school, so nobody paid him any attention.” I reached for my drink. “If something had happened, I keep thinking it would have been my fault. How did I not notice?”

  When I started to cry, Brett scooted his chair to me and gave me his shoulder.

  “Later that day, we got a call from police. He'd brought a gun to school. The teacher caught him playing with it in the restroom.”

  It was a day I would never forget. They hauled Charlie into a jail cell and treated him like a murderer, which only made his mental problems worse.

  “Shit, Madison. That's horrible. What was he planning to do?”

  “They said he was going to shoot up his classroom, but I don't think so. I think he was planning to kill himself.” I dabbed my eyes with the napkin. “After that, dad finally took his issues seriously. But he wasn't sympathetic; he thought Charlie needed to be punished. He tricked him and had him put in the psych ward against his will.”

  “At least he would get help there.”

  “Had he stayed, maybe so. But just one night after he arrived, Charlie escaped and ran away. He didn't come home. We all searched for him. The police looked everywhere; they eventually had people hunting all over the country. But that was the last time I ever saw him.”

  “Do you think he's... still out there, somewhere?”

  “Jenna and I like to hope so. That's why we light a candle for him on his birthday. Makes us feel as if he's still with us in a way.”

  So, there it was. I'd shared my dark and depressing family history with Brett – the man I thought less than a week ago that I could never trust.

  Would he run now? A guy who wanted me for nothing but sex would have done so. Why hang around and listen to my sad problems when he could have so many other girls without baggage instead?

  He pulled me out of my chair and into his lap. When he wrapped me in a wordless hug, it was such a comfort that I burst into tears.

  “I'm sorry,” I mumbled into his shoulder. “Guess I get a little too emotional when I've been drinking.”

  “Nothing to apologize for. I'm, ah, not really good at dealing with stuff like this.” He laughed softly. “When I'm confronted with a problem, I do my best to fix it. I can't bring your brother back, but if there's any other way I can help, name it.”

  Fuck me, Silver.

  I thought it, but the words wouldn't leave my mouth.

  Why did I keep pushing him away? Why wouldn't my pride let me accept the pleasure he offered?

  He lifted my chin and kissed me. I weakened, melted, in his arms.

  This kiss wasn't like the first time. It was gentle. Meaningful. It felt right.

  Heat flushed between my thighs. I needed him inside me so badly. He wanted to help? His touch was the only thing that could make me forget the pain.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered against my neck.

  “You.”

  I led him to the bedroom and let him undress me. We'd been in such a rush that night in the forest, there had been no time to enjoy this part.

  “So pretty.” He kissed my thighs as he slid down my shorts. “I could stare at this body of yours for hours.”

  “I hope you don't, because I can't wait that long.”

  Taking off a man's pants had never excited me this much. He gasped softly as I pulled down his boxers and stroked his erection with a light, teasing touch.

  “I don't know how to handle you,” he admitted, brushing the loose hair out of my face. “If you knew the filthy things I wanted to say and do, I'm sure you'd slap me.”

  “Try me.” My lips grazed the tip of him. “Tonight, rough and dirty sounds perfect.”

  My heart beat so very hard. This was the closest I'd come to telling a guy the truth about my desires. When I was in bed with most men, the very idea of it embarrassed me to death.

  But with Brett, it felt totally natural.

  “I want you to be in control,” I blurted, then winced. What if he thought I was crazy or some kind of freak?

  His eyes lit with eagerness. “You'll do what I say,” he agreed, “or I'll have to punish you, won't I?”

  “Yes, I suppose you will.”

  “Then I want your mouth on me.” He was playful, yet firm. “I've been thinking about this since the moment you tried to arrest me.”

  I took him in, every last inch, and explored his length with my tongue. He cupped my face in his hands and cursed quietly.

  “Look at me, Madison.”

  I did as he commanded, flinching under the intensity of his stare as he watched me. Whatever he might be thinking, I could not tell.

  “Good girl,” he murmured. “Now I want you to touch yourself for me.”

  I protested weakly as he lay me on the bed. “T-touch... myself? Like, in front of you?”

  “Yeah. Show me how you like it.”

  No man had asked this of me before. It was something so private, so personal, and now Brett wanted me to share that with him.

  My hand grazed my belly. So close, yet I hesitated.

  “If you refuse, I'll have to spank you.” He grinned. “You wanted me in control? Maybe you didn't think this one all the way through.”

  “I'd rather take the spanking.”

  “That suits me just fine.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap. “But I warn you, I won't be as gentle as last time.”

  I stifled my excitement as I threw myself over his knee. His hand came down hard on my backside. The sting of his blow was almost a relief.

  I closed my eyes and savored it all: the crack of his palm on skin, the initial jolt followed by that warm, wonderful burn. It was addictive, like a drug, and I was desperate for my next hit.

  He paused and spread my folds, then slid his finger inside. That wasn't enough for me; I needed something bigger. Needed to be filled to my limit and pounded so hard that it hurt...

  “You're so wet,” he whispered. “How can this be a punishment if you're enjoying it this much?”

  I wriggled in his grasp in mock protest. He slapped my ass even harder for trying to resist.

  “We'll see how much you like it when I whip you with my belt – but that'll have to wait for next time.” He tossed me on the bed, propped up by pillows. “Now do as I said and touch yourself for me. No acting, either. I want the real deal from you.”

  “Hey, not
fair. I took the spankings.”

  He waggled his finger. “You tricked me. Try that again, and who knows? I just might happen to get an emergency call from the station. I'd have to put my pants on and leave in quite a hurry.”

  He tauntingly reached for his jeans. I shrieked and kicked them away.

  Him leaving without satisfying me? Now that would be a serious punishment.

  “Okay, you got me,” I grumbled. “I hope you're happy with completely humiliating me.”

  He cocked his head, confused. “But there's nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is so beautiful, Madison.”

  The look in his eyes made me believe him.

  I circled my clit slowly at first, just the way I did alone, at home, when I was helplessly fantasizing about him.

  Then I moved faster as the tension grew inside me. His spankings had me so wet and ready, I hovered on the edge of orgasm within seconds.

  He watched me silently, breathing hard, stroking himself to my x-rated display.

  “Give me your hand,” I told him, and he did.

  I used his rough, thick fingers in place of my own. Two I stuffed inside me, groaning at the need for more. Mm, how much longer would he make me wait for his cock?

  “Make yourself come for me, Madison. I know you're close. I can feel it.”

  Just a couple more strokes did me in. Brett took over at the last moment, curling his fingers in me as I tightened around him.

  Oh shit, this man knew what he was doing.

  The walls I'd put up around me began to crack and crumble. I never planned to give myself to Brett, not this easily. But he already had me, didn't he?

  I became his the moment our eyes met in that alley.

  He put his finger to my lips and without thinking, I slid it into my mouth with a teasing suck. I tasted myself on him but kept going, licking him clean.

  Brett growled like a beast, pinned me to the bed, smothered my neck with kisses and played with my breasts, rolling his tongue around each nipple until I couldn't wait for him anymore.

  I reached for his cock, arching my hips in desperation to get him inside me. Clawed at his back, pulling him down under the sheets with me.

  He'd teased me for too long. I needed this now.

  “Tell me how you want it,” he growled in my ear. “Nice and gentle, or...”

  He rammed into me with a single powerful thrust. I gasped at the ache of being stretched wide.

  Oh, God. Yes.

  He clutched both of my tiny wrists in one of his big hands, pinning my arms behind my head so I couldn't move. With his heavy, muscular body on top of mine, I was completely and utterly helpless, unable to escape.

  And I loved it.

  I struggled against him as he forced every inch of himself deep into my passage. He held me down even tighter, curling his arm around me in an embrace that said I belonged only to him.

  “You'd better stop fighting me,” he whispered teasingly in my ear, “or you're going to regret it.”

  I taunted him back as I wriggled my wrists free of his grasp.

  “Oh yeah? What are you going to do, hit me?”

  Our eyes met, each of us questioning the other. He was hesitant. I, curious – and so horny, so close to the peak again, that I was evidently far from thinking straight.

  I put his hand on my cheek. He touched me there carefully, his brow furrowed.

  “Do it,” I urged him, maybe just to see if he would. Or maybe I was more into kinky, masochistic stuff than I ever knew.

  “But what if I hurt you?”

  “You slapped my ass without much concern for that.”

  “That was different.”

  I knew. Men today didn't just go slapping their women in the face. It seemed wrong – but I was in no mood for political correctness.

  I'd held this side of me back, hid it away for years from every man I took to bed. Now it all came out for Brett in this big, unrelenting rush of desire that I couldn't control any longer.

  “I've been bad, Silver. You'd better teach me a lesson or I'll walk all over you.”

  He gnawed his lip, took a deep breath, then swatted me so lightly on the cheek I barely felt it.

  Yet it was enough to open the floodgates. We couldn't go back now.

  “Harder,” I demanded.

  He consented. The sting was light; the sensation unfamiliar and surprising.

  And addicting.

  “I can take it,” I assured him. “I want this.”

  He gritted his teeth and struck my other cheek so hard, I could feel his hand print burning into my skin. Tears came to my eyes – not because of the pain, but this was somehow so very cathartic.

  Brett lost it, growling like an animal and pounding me so hard I cried out at every thrust. I wrapped my legs around him, taking him in balls deep as one orgasm after another rocked my body.

  He came along with me, groaning with pleasure as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. His sharp teeth grazed my shoulder, but I didn't even register it as hurting.

  At last, we were too spent to move another muscle. As for me, I'd never felt so sexually satisfied in my life.

  “Well,” he muttered after catching his breath, “I sure am glad we did that in a bed this time. The woods was nice, but the sticks, rocks, and pine cones I could do without.”

  In the morning, I'd be hurting in a dozen different spots. Now, though, I was in too much bliss to feel anything else.

  But as that began to wear off, even though Brett cradled me securely in his arms, worry crept in.

  What had I done? How could I have acted like such a freak? And I made him hit me! He'd probably run for his life and I'd never hear from him again.

  The clock on my nightstand said it was a quarter to eleven. Jenna's shift ended at ten, so she wouldn't be long now.

  “My sister will be home soon,” I announced.

  “Guess it'd be pretty awkward if she walked in on us.” He watched me as he dressed. “So, uh, that was pretty damn wild.”

  My stomach turned. “Yeah. Wild.”

  “I knew you'd be crazy in bed, but I never guessed how much.” He grinned. “Not to say I didn't like it.”

  “I've never done anything like that before, you know,” I said quickly. “Just so you don't think I'm like that with everybody.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You trying to tell me I bring out the freaky side of you?”

  “I guess you do.”

  “That's quite an honor.”

  I went to the kitchen to pick up the mess from dinner, chastising myself silently the whole way. If only I hadn't drank so much, I wouldn't have done any of that. Now things would be super awkward between us – if he decided to keep hanging around, that is.

  “Thanks again for the delicious meal.” I put the salmon in a container for the fridge. “Here's the leftovers.”

  He shook his head. “I want you to take them. Seems you need it more than I do.”

  “What I need is a personal chef who'll cook me dinner every night.”

  He nuzzled my neck from behind as I packed up the spinach. “Like me?”

  “Maybe.”

  This side of him, generous and caring, was nothing like the side I'd seen the night we met. I didn't understand. Thought all he wanted was to get laid. I'd accepted that. Didn't really want a long-term thing after Victor anyway.

  Now it seemed maybe Brett wanted more than that. I had no idea what to do about it.

  We went out to the porch. It was late; the night still, quiet and peaceful. I was kind of sad when he headed for his car.

  “Busy day tomorrow. Maybe we'll finally catch our bad guy.”

  A car pulled down the dark road and into the driveway. Jenna was home.

  She stepped out with a heavy sigh. “What a night. I got stiffed twice, and I'm so sick of –” She paused and gaped at the two of us. “Oh, gee, you didn't warn me you were having... company.”

  I tensed at the two of them meeting. Brett was a fantastic lover, but no
t exactly the kind of influence I wanted for my kid sister.

  He smiled warmly and stuck out his hand. “I'm Brett. Madison's told me lots about you.”

  “Hopefully not the bad parts.” She tossed her hair and batted her eyelashes. “I've seen you on TV, putting out fires like a boss. You're pretty badass.”

  Brett laughed. I shoved Jenna with a growl.

  “Stop flirting and get inside.”

  She protested a bit, then stopped in her tracks and peered into the darkness to the right of our yard.

  “Hey,” she whispered, pointing. “There's a car there. I think they're watching us.”

  Brett stood in front of Jenna while I reached for my gun – but of course, it wasn't there. I'd left it on the dresser. Damn!

  “Mad, where are you going?” Jenna hissed.

  I held up my hand to quiet her and stepped forward slowly. Indeed, there was a black car nestled between my house and the neighbor's, hidden so well among the thick trees it was nearly invisible.

  “Come out with your hands up,” I demanded.

  The headlights flicked on, blinding me with the sudden brightness. Then the engine roared, and the car sped out of its hiding spot onto the street.

  It was the same black car as the one from before. How long had they been there?

  “We just gonna let him get away?” Brett frowned. “That's our guy, isn't it? This could be your chance to stop the idiot before he strikes again.”

  The car zipped around the bend and vanished. I'd never catch him now. That, though, wasn't my biggest problem.

  How could I and Jenna feel safe in our own home anymore?

  Somehow, this bastard had to be stopped.

  Chapter 13 - Brett

  I'd slept with a lot of girls. Done a lot of crazy things. But I'd never had sex the way it happened last night.

  I slapped a woman in the face. I hit Madison in the face.

  Holy shit.

  Yes, she asked for it. I'd been reluctant, because what sort of man hits a lady? It was just wrong.

  What bothered me most of all was how much I enjoyed it. The rush it gave me, that jolt of pleasure when my hand struck her cheek.