by Mandy Rosko
Cindy's hands reached up to grab at her hair, just because she needed something to grip onto before she flew off the handle. "It's him, Jack! It has to be him!"
"I guess this paranormal's a friend of yours?" Jessica asked. "You said his name was Jamie?"
Cindy nodded. "You're both hunters, can either of you check and see if he's on your wanted list?"
"All paranormals are on the wanted list," Jack said, though not unkindly. "We don't have our computers with us, and it wouldn't be smart to access the database until we can get to a tablet or phone, something that can't be traced. I can't just sign in with my name and password after what I did," Jack said.
"If my brother's after your friend, then I'm sorry but your friend is going to be picked up," Jessica said. "He's good at tracking people down."
"Can't you ask him to stop?" Cindy demanded, staring at Jessica. "If you can get word to him, call him somehow without being traced—"
"Jack just said that his phone is likely already tapped," Jessica said. "I can't just call him and ask for a favor like that. He'll go to prison."
Jack touched Cindy's arm, and though his touch was welcome, and a little soothing, it did nothing to calm the fires that were burning brighter inside of her.
"Cindy, you're glowing," Jack said. "I'm sorry, I really am, but please."
Cindy took in a deep breath, and the fire went out a little. When she looked down at her hands, the glow vanished.
"I'm sorry about your friend," Jessica said, and she put her car into drive. "but you both need to get out of here now. Get as far away from the city as you can. Go on up to Canada if you want. I hear they're a lot less strict with paranormals so long as they're escorted by, you know, normal people."
The way Jessica said normal people, as if she was apologizing to Cindy, was almost laughable considering they were in the same boat.
Either way, Cindy didn't like it. "We can't just let her brother pick him up, Jack. He saved my life."
"That was years ago," Jack said, and then quickly continued on when Cindy felt her body start to glow with heat again. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I don't want to do this anymore than you do. This sucks, a lot. I get it, but paranormals usually go off on their own anyway. You don't owe him because he did you a favor way back then."
"He's been my best friend ever since," Cindy said. "He was who I was going to meet when you picked me up."
"I shouldn't be hearing anymore of this," Jessica said quickly. "This is too much for me to know already in case I get picked up."
Jack nodded to her. "Take care of yourself," he said, stepping back from the car and putting his good arm out, making sure Cindy was at a safe distance as well.
Jessica nodded. "You too," she said, and then slowly pulled out of the lot.
Cindy didn't hear tires squealing or shouts for her to stop when she drove back to the gate. The man watching the property let her out as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
"We don't have a lot of time here," Jack said as he took Cindy by the hand and brought her into the storage shed. He yanked a big white cover off of what turned out to be a motorcycle. Cindy didn't know enough about them to know what kind it was, or what year. It looked a few years older, but still in good shape. It was black, the type of bike she would have seen in a racing movie, or something. There were also two helmets.
"Jack," Cindy asked, watching as he packed up a small bag of things. He looked up at her. "Seriously, why have all this stuff? Why prepare to leave? You're normal, you have no reason to run."
Jack looked down at the backpack in his hands, and Cindy noticed how his knuckles as had turned white as he gripped it. Then he sighed. "I guess...at first I was telling myself it was in case there was another accident. This would be to make sure I wouldn't have to start from scratch again."
"You have two helmets with your bike," Cindy said.
Jack smiled this time, a mirror of that shy boy smile he used to give her back when everything was still open blue skies and sunshine for miles. "Yeah, I'm thinking that had more to do with my little fantasy of finding you and taking you away from all this. It wasn't actually supposed to really happen like this, though."
"How was it supposed to happen?" Cindy asked, intrigued.
Jack shrugged, and he seemed to be having a hard time looking at her. "Basically that neither of us were actually going to be running from the authorities. The ideal fantasy would've been to find you and just, well, take you. If anyone had stopped us and asked, I would've said I was taking you into Head Office myself, but I know that's not how this is going to work."
Jack looked right at her. "We might not make it to Canada, you know, especially if we go after your friend."
Cindy's heart stopped, and for a hair of a second, she was terrified she'd misunderstood him. "You mean...we're going back?"
"I owe you, considering I believed those terrible things about you. I knew it never fit your personality, but I just...it was too much, you know? The fire, the fact that you never showed up, I never saw you again and—"
Cindy cut him off when she rushed into his arms, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Jack seemed shocked for a whole second before his hands were on her hips and his mouth melted against hers, warm and pliant, his tongue licked her lips and then thrust inside next.
Cindy's body buzzed. This was the absolute worst time and place for this to happen, but her hands were pulling at his shirt and his pants. There was definitely no time for that, but she had to have him. Everything in Cindy's body demanded that Jack take her right then and there.
He got the message loud and clear, and as Cindy opened his pants, Jack started lifting her skirt.
Cindy felt his cock, hot and hard, even before she managed to get his pants down. Her sex swelled and a rush of warmth flooded her, making her slick.
Jack grunted when her hand gripped his heavy cock, and then Cindy gasped and made a noise that was almost a squeal when he lifted her into his arms. Sometimes she forgot about how strong he was. He held her up so easily with one of his arms hurting as bad as it did.
"Got to have you. Right now," he said, sounding like he'd run all the way here from his house.
Cindy curled her legs around his waist, immediately feeling the crown of his length touching her sex, sliding between her wet opening, and then penetrating her.
Cindy cried out, first with the discomfort of the initial thrust, and then with pleasure as Jack gripped her by the ass and pushed her up and down on top of him. Her orgasm was already building, and Jack stumbled to the wall of his storage unit, pressing Cindy's back against it. She didn't even mind the cold concrete against her skin when Jack gripped her by the wrists and pushed her hands above her head, his hips pumping back and forth so that his flesh pounded almost painfully against her.
Cindy moaned and tried to push back against him, but this was more of a claiming than actual lovemaking, and without intending for it to happen she came before she was even fully aware that her orgasm was upon her.
Jack kissed her, swallowing up her moan, and as she rode out her climax, her inner walls pulsing around Jack's cock, he followed her.
Warmth spilled inside of her, and then Cindy was riding on the buzz that followed on the heels of her pleasure. Jack released her arms, and she wound them back around his neck, holding him close.
He was panting heavily when they finished, and so was she. Cindy ran her fingers through Jack's hair as he pressed his forehead against her collarbone. Neither of them moved, though both knew that they should.
"I love you," Jack said, his voice quiet.
Somehow, Cindy got the feeling that he was speaking so low because he feared she would reject him. As if she could ever do that to him, or to herself.
"I love you, too," she said.
Jack squeezed her tightly, and with a groan, he put her back down on her feet. Cindy could feel some of his come on her thigh, but she didn't want to clean herself up. Not yet.
Jack r
ighted his clothes, tucking his spent penis back into his pants. "Sorry, I don't have anything for you to clean up with. It's gonna have to wait until we get a motel or something."
"I don't mind," Cindy said, and she really didn't.
Jack smiled at her, and he moved over to the bike. "You will if we're on this bike for more than a couple of hours. We're going to have to keep moving. I don't think we can leave the city just yet, there'll likely be road blocks, considering the men that we left unconscious back at my place. Going into the heart of the city will be out of the question for the time being as well."
"I can handle it, I trust you," Cindy said, and she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together.
Jack looked down between them, and his grip on her tightened. "Okay then, let’s get going. Our first order of business is to get our new IDs, maybe change your hair a little, and then wait this out until it's safer to go looking for your friend."
"How long will that take?" Cindy asked, following him to the bike. When he handed her the helmet, she put it on. She tried to stuff her hair in it as best she could so that no one would be able to see it, but she was pretty sure she wasn't doing a good job.
"I'm not going to lie to you. It could be a couple of days, it could be longer. We might even hear on the radio that Jamie was captured by Ethan before we even get the chance to really look for them."
Cindy shivered at that, but then Jack's hands were on her shoulders. "I promise I'll try," he said. "To make up for what I did, I'll try, but it might not be enough."
"You don't have to make up for anything, but I still appreciate it," Cindy said, reaching up to touch his hands, which were still on her shoulders. "We always knew how this might turn out. We always knew one of us might vanish."
Jack winced, and then they got on the bike. "Either way, I guess I owe it to him to try then, if not to you. You said he saved you, right?"
Cindy nodded, putting one leg on either side of the bike's seat behind Jack. "Right."
Jack had been right about it being uncomfortable, especially because she wasn't wearing any underwear, and her sex was cold now, thanks to how wet it still felt, and the fact that she couldn't close her legs.
Jack handed her the bag they were taking with them, and she put it over her shoulder for the ride.
"Something I have to ask," he said, before starting the engine. "It doesn't even really matter, it's stupid, but I was just wondering, you said you were going to meet him when I picked you up?"
Cindy knew where this was going even before he finished speaking. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his back. "We were never a thing, only friends. He took care of me and I trusted him."
"Oh, okay good," Jack said, and Cindy could feel his relieved sigh go all the way through his body.
"Also, Jamie's gay."
Chapter Eighteen
Jamie pumped his arms and legs. They’d been hurting for a while now, but he kept right on running. He hadn't managed to keep away from hunters and collectors for so long because he'd been neglecting his cardio, but the man behind him was hot on his trail and he wasn't stopping.
Jamie had tossed several electric shocks behind him, hoping to hit the guy, but his aim wasn't exactly on the mark while he was running for his life, trying to look ahead of him to stay a careful course.
He'd made it just outside of the city limits when his stupid car broke down. It wasn't uncommon for anything electric to short out when he was stressed, but the car was the worst thing to go, and right when he really needed it, too.
And of course, because he had the worst luck in the history of the universe, a white van with the logo of the hawk in flight had been right behind him, and it had stopped when Jamie had prayed for the driver to keep on going.
When Ethan got out of the driver's side door, Jamie didn't even wait. He'd bolted and ran right into the trees, and now Ethan was on his trail.
Fuck, if only it would rain, or if he could just find a stream and lure Ethan into it. He could shock the man into unconsciousness and then get away. The problem with using too much juice was that it made him tired, and each bolt he sent after the man was draining. It made the muscles in his legs burn that much more and made it harder for his lungs to take in a gulp of air.
He cursed the night he ever met Ethan Frost in that dance club, though there had been some pretty good nights since then.
Something bashed into him from behind, and Jamie screamed as he went down, something hard and scratchy tangled around his body, and he was almost stunned into silence when he realized that it was a heavy net, made out of thick brown rope.
"Are you kidding me?" he yelled.
Ethan came into view, and the stupid bastard was barely panting. He had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, though his dark brown hair was still completely dry. The little bit of gel that spiked the short strands even held. Ethan didn't look like he'd been taken for much of a run at all.
"How did you even manage to throw this at me? I didn't even see you carrying it!" Jamie snapped, and he immediately started to struggle, searching for a way out of the damned net. He thought it would be easy, but with the weights on it, it was hard. He was stuck.
Ethan didn't answer him, instead he walked right up to where Jamie was lying.
Ethan was six feet and two inches of solid muscle. He had wide shoulders and a lean waist, with the kind abs that Jamie envied and loved touching, but could never get for himself. The man was gorgeous, and though he wasn't bulky, he was definitely strong, and he could really hurt Jamie if he wanted to.
The gun in Ethan's hand, which was pointed right at Jamie, was enough to make him want to be compliant. "Okay, whoa, you don't need to do that. I'm not going to try anything."
Ethan reached behind him, grabbed onto something metal that had been clipped to his belt, and then tossed them at Jamie.
They landed on the net, and Jamie was able to grab onto them and see what they were. His stomach dropped out of him. He wanted to be sick.
Shackles with spells engraved on them that would suppress Jamie's powers. He looked up at Ethan, searching for any shred of empathy, any small amount of something that meant the man cared enough about him not to destroy his life like this.
"Come on, please, don't do this, I never hurt anyone."
"Several city blocks lost power because of you," Ethan said, still pointing his weapon. "That's not the behavior of someone who's innocent. You also attacked me when I chased you."
Jamie couldn't tell if it was a real gun, or something that would just shoot a dart with a drug in it. Didn't matter, he was scared shitless.
"So I have to be picked up for that?" Jamie asked.
"Yes...I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Ethan, come on, please, you know me. That thing with the power back in the city...I was just stressed out because one of my friends is missing. I'm not dangerous. I don't hurt people. I don't do that. You know me," he said again, hoping it would resonate.
"I don't know you," Ethan said, but the man closed his eyes briefly, as if he didn't want to be reminded of what they'd done.
"You know me well enough to know I'm not a killer! Christ, we slept in the same bed! Twice!"
"Put the shackles on, right now," Ethan said, and his tone brooked no argument. His face softened just a little, but his eyes remained cold and heartless. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
The problem was that Jamie knew if he put the shackles on he would totally helpless. There would he no chance to escape. He would be done. Game over. No more continues. That was it.
And Ethan was the one who was doing this to him. Ethan.
Clearly, he and Ethan didn't know each other, because this cold man who stared down at him with unfeeling eyes was not the same man Jamie had laughed with over drinks or danced with back at the club.
He had to get out of here. If Ethan had his way, then Jamie was going to go into a box before he was shipped off to a lab.
Jamie had al
most no energy left inside of him, but he wasn't going to just play dead either. He was not about to put these goddamned shackles on his wrists. He was going to do something, and it was worth the risk of whatever was inside of that gun.
He powered up and fired off a shot, so fast that he was positive he caught Ethan before he could fire.
Ethan's entire body went tight, as if he was in the throes of a bad cramp. His eyes widened with pain, and then he fell over, right beside Jamie.
At first Jamie could hardly believe it, and then he laughed as he stared down into Ethan's unconscious face. "That's what you get," he said, but then realized how thick and heavy his tongue felt inside of his mouth.
Jamie tried to move, tried to get the damned net off of him, but even his fingers fumbled and felt numb. He could hardly move an inch of his body, and all he wanted to do was sleep.
Jamie looked down at the tiny dart that was sticking out of his chest, right above his heart, and he wanted to laugh again, but he was already going under.
For some stupid reason, the first thing Jamie started to dream about, in the hazy way that people dreamed when they were still half awake, was the early morning after his and Ethan's second night together. It was before everything went to shit, when Jamie still got butterflies in his stomach when Ethan had kissed him. That’s what he was softly doing in dawn's light, right before Ethan escorted him to his car, and then gave him his phone number with the request that he call as often as he liked.
Jamie's eyes slid completely shut, despite his best efforts to stay awake, and all he could think about was what would happen to him if Ethan woke up first.
The End
Thank you for reading Burns Like Fire! If you enjoyed this story and think others would, too, please leave a comment at the online retailer where you purchased it :)
Excerpt from...
A SHOCK TO YOUR SYSTEM
Chapter One
Jamie Holland opened his eyes, but a fiery light bulb in front of his retinas that stabbed him through the skull made him shut his lids again instantly. He groaned as he came awake, and he tried the eye opening thing again. Slower this time. The trees were upside down and spinning around him, and he had no memory of how he'd come to be where he was. Why was he cold all over his body? Damp in some places, too. Not to mention stiff and sore as hell, like he'd been in a physical fight and totally got his ass handed to him on a plate. Every limb felt like wood.
