Red Hot and BOOM! A Sizzling Hot Collection of Stories from the Red Hot Authors

by Randi Alexander

  And that was enough to sober any drunkard.

  The fight left me in a single whoosh of air escaping my lungs. I dropped my arms to my side, clutching the only accessory I had: my phone. “Please see Mary Ann for your interview before the afternoon comes to an end.” I studied him for a few seconds, before giving up. “Welcome home, Mr. Jacobs.” I gave him a curt nod and sought a break in the crowd.

  “Wait!” His hand brushed my shoulder lightly, sending tingles fluttering as he drew it back. “Sorry. That was a dickhead thing to say. Feel free to slap me.”

  Anger rushed me, tightening my chest, sending my pulse upwards. I glared at him. Sadly, though, his appeal didn’t recede. “So I can share a headline with you? No, thank you.”

  We had delicious men in Atlanta; we had men with wealth and charm, men with hustle and muscle, and men with looks and a degree. There were a plethora of men in Atlanta that had some portion of the formula that made up Bear, but he was different. Maybe it was the badass military edge that got me going; I’d certainly dated my fair share of bad boys in my younger years, much to my mother’s horror.

  But that didn’t explain why I was anxious to escape him.

  The truth was, I knew if I didn’t leave, he would reel me in. I felt the tiny tug in my chest, the one that justified the heat coursing through my extra full figure. I was close to explaining away what I already knew: the story was always better than the sex.

  He observed me for a long minute. “So, you’re the new reporter Mary Ann hired?” His words jerked me from my contemplation.

  I stared deadpan at him. “It took you that long to piece it together?” I closed my eyes briefly, surprised I didn’t visibly wince at the bite in my own voice. I could verbally spar with the best of them, but I didn’t cross that professional, business-mannered line usually.

  Usually.

  I was struggling to keep professional separate from personal, and the man didn’t even know my name.

  I sighed, frowning as I focused down at the grass beneath my shoes. This wasn’t classy, this wasn’t sexy; this was desperation. Had it really been that long? Had I approached that hard line, unable to control my own hormones, due to a lack of recent release?

  Lifting my head, I looked at him. The smirk was gone, the charm tucked away; instead, I was surprised to see concern.

  His brows crinkled, his gaze had narrowed marginally, and his lips turned down faintly at the edges as he studied me. The fight had left him. Perhaps he was the first man to see beyond my façade to the confused and broken woman within.

  Perhaps the time had come that I stopped trying to pass as upper middle class when everyone back home knew I grew up in the hood, in the slums of my “great” home city.

  In high school, my mother sent me to etiquette school. She’d been working two minimum wage jobs since I could remember, and did until the day she passed, scraping to get by. She admitted that she’d been setting aside funds for this since I was in elementary school, knowing that her Island accent, broken English, and lack of cultural etiquette further segregated her from the upper echelon. She wanted me to be more than she was and to have more opportunities than she did.

  “And, baby, don’t let no folk tell you’s different. You’s smart, you’s beautiful, and you’s gonna go far. Dis is ‘da first step. You’s fake it till you’s get ‘dere. Don’t let no man look down on you’s ‘da way ‘dey do me.”

  “Bad day?” he asked.

  I blinked in rapid succession, trying to clear my head as I glanced up at him.

  Every few seconds he scanned the horizon, but his gaze always came back to me.

  When I continued to merely gape up at him, I clearly gave him the wrong impression.

  His smug grin slowly returned, complete with dimples. He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. “Darlin’, the sooner you admit you think I’m sexy, the sooner, I can make you feel good.”

  Alright, maybe I’d flashed my cards earlier and given him the right impression, but I wasn’t about to admit it. A good journalist always recovers control of the conversation. “Sweetie, it takes a special kind of man to please this chunk of chocolate, and you are not it. So you can save your breath, tuck away your charm, and flash those dimples at some other woman because it’s not going to happen with me.” I straightened my back, regaining just enough confidence and composure with that single delivery to press onwards. “Now, if you could kindly point me in the direction of your father and Calhoun, I would greatly appreciate it.” I gave him a polite smile, one that was entirely professional and not at all genuine.

  He didn’t falter. Rather, his eyes took on a vibrancy I’d yet to see. He extended an elbow towards me. “Slide your arm through mine, and I’ll personally escort you.”

  My breasts swelled at the thought of his biceps brushing them even minutely. My breathing pattern was disrupted temporarily until I could re-compose myself. I swallowed hard, blowing out a small breath. I plastered the same business smile on my face as I spoke. “That really won’t be necessary. If you point me in the correct direction, I can find my way.”

  Dropping his arm, he looked me up and down, his gaze darkening, killing the light-hearted glimmer that had been there. Suddenly, he stepped into my space, challenging me. “You’ve got a stubborn streak a mile long, but, so you know, darlin’, that won’t stop me. I always get what I want.” He winked.

  My smile was genuine this time. In trying to push my hand, he’d revealed his own, giving me the power. “I’m flattered that you want me, Mr. Jacobs, but you know nothing about me beyond my job and appearance.”

  He chuckled softly; the husky baritone of it vibrated through me, sending fresh desire bursting from my core. “Darlin’, don’t try to play games with me. I was in the Marines; they’ve trained me for everything, includin’ how to win fans in a town of enemies. Now if you want to pretend that you’re not even slightly aroused by my presence, go right on ahead. You might want to get better at coverin’ up the signs though.”

  My heart took off, sprinting quickly, startled into overtime.

  He brushed his fingertips along the vein in the side of my neck. “Your blood is pumpin’ awful fast for a woman who’s pretendin’ she’s calm.” He trailed his touch up to my temple, my breathing increasing with each inch of skin he grazed past. “And this touch of perspiration is not from the heat outside or the crowd around us, but you already knew that.”

  I clenched my teeth, clinging to my pride, fighting his attempts to sway me into submission.

  His fingers traveled over my jaw. “This is proof you’re tryin’ to prove me wrong.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing close to my ears. “But it really just proves me right.”

  He straightened, meeting my gaze again. He drew a smooth line to my shoulders, over the straps of my dress and down the slope to my upper arm. My flesh pebbled beneath his caress. He glimpsed down at my skin, his arrogance increasing. “You don’t get goose bumps in the heat for no reason, darlin’.”

  My breath hitched and my eyes widened as his fingertips moved to my breasts, circling the fullness at their edge. His haughty sneer teased me. “Darlin’, I do believe your high beams are on.”

  His announcement slapped me to attention. My lips parted in dismay. I huffed, slapping his hand away. I crossed my arms over my chest. “What is wrong with you? There are people everywhere.”

  He laughed. “I’m pretty sure most of them aren’t virgins, so this is nothin’ they haven’t seen or experienced before.”

  I mashed my lips together, practically pleading with the Lord for patience. Adrenaline pumped through me. Sweet cherry pie, I’d never wanted to slug an interviewee so badly. “We’re done. I will find Seth and Calhoun on my own.” I shoved my way into another part of the crowd.

  The man had zero respect for me. He was exposing my weakness for him in front of half the town, as if to show that no woman could resist him and there was no use trying. He needed to be taught a lesson. He needed his ego torn down
a notch. Confidence was sexy; arrogance was...still sexy on him. Darn it.

  Leaving him behind didn’t erase the response he’d called to my surface though. My body hummed for him, wanting to surrender, if only I was willing to sacrifice my pride, my ethics and my panties.

  Chapter Six

  Barrath

  I watched her sweet curves flee. There was no better confirmation of success. I’d gotten to her. She’d told me the truth without a single admission. I wouldn’t get any further with her, though, without the help of one person: Mary Ann.

  I needed a name, stat.

  Pushin’ my way back up the steps, I looked out over the yard. It’d been six years since I’d seen the town’s press operator, but since nothing ever changed in Bear Valley, I imagined she hadn’t either.

  Starin’ out, I saw her approaching Calhoun and my dad. From the glances they exchanged at her arrival, I knew they were gonna fuck with her. I guess I would get to see just how uppity my city girl was.

  Spottin’ Gator, I vacated the deck and headed right for him. His arm was slung around a curvy blonde; she was dressed nicely, but didn’t hold my attention.

  Aimin’ my gaze at him, I dove right in. “You seen Mary Ann?”

  His brows perked; he gaped at me like I’d sprouted antlers. “You lose an eye over there?”

  I scrunched my features, shakin’ my head. “What the fuck ya’ talkin’ about, Gator?”

  He looked at the blonde. “Mary Ann’s right here, dipshit.” He tugged her closer against his side.

  She cracked a smile. “It’s me, Bear.” Her voice squeaked slightly.

  I knew my brows damn near kissed my hairline. “You look...”

  “Damn fuckin’ good,” Gator exclaimed, cuttin’ me off. He openly ogled her like a cold beer across the deck on a spittin’ hot day; I swore drool was gatherin’ in the corner of his lips. “Better than she ever looked in high school, right?” He winked at her.

  She blushed, avertin’ her gaze, attempting to hide her smile.

  Standin’ there, I felt like I was in the fuckin’ Twilight Zone. Gator had never looked at a woman as anything other than a heated sex doll. “When did you two happen?” I folded my arms over my chest.

  “Just now.” Gator didn’t take his eyes off of her.

  Gator was about mid-height with dark brown hair, a burly build, and facial hair when he didn’t feel like shaving, which was often. Mary Ann was short, blonde, had always been overweight and chatty. It was about time these two had a steady; I just never paired ‘em together. “Good for you.” I nodded my head once, assuring my approval to Mary Ann, who was the only one payin’ me any attention. “Now, Mary Ann, what’s the name of that new reporter that you hired?”

  She scrunched her forehead, appearing a bit confused. “You mean Shae?”

  “Describe her.” My ears hadn’t perked this much since my first day on the battlefield; coincidentally, I witnessed my first IED explosion that same day. Really fucks you up. You start listenin’ for clicks and pins poppin’ everywhere.

  She fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. “Um, well, she’s about five-five with black hair that has caramel highlights, and, oh! She’s wearing a navy blue dress with heels.”

  A grin split my face. “What’s her last name?” It was better to know too much than not enough.

  She nibbled her bottom lip, her gaze passin’ between Gator and me cautiously. It was obvious she didn’t know whether to tell me.

  “Her name’ll be in the paper soon enough. You’re not givin’ away national secrets.”

  She softly sighed, nodding. “It’s more so employee-employer confidentiality, but you’re right. The whole town’ll know it soon enough.”

  “Know what?” Gator chimed in, finally breaking his trance.

  I rolled my eyes. “Nothin’ important. Go back to oglin’.” I swallowed, cocking my head expectantly. “Her name, Mary Ann.”

  “Oh, right. Um, it’s Shae Roberts.”

  Leaning in, I slapped Gator’s left bicep and pecked Mary Ann’s cheek swiftly. “Thanks, doll.”

  “Hey, fucker! I claimed her first.” Gator shoved me away with enough force to knock my balance.

  I narrowly missed collidin’ with Mrs. Henley. She was a nice woman, but she had at least ten “injuries” every year caused by someone other than herself, and had attempted to sue damn near everyone in town at some time or another for somethin’ similar.

  Rightin’ myself, I said, “She’s all yours, bud. I’ve got my eye on another prize.” I broke away before he could get anymore worked up.

  Gator wasn’t territorial usually. Hell, he and Weasel had shared a few women over the years. Wasn’t my thing, but proves my point.

  Shit. Maybe things were changin’ in Bear Valley.

  I forced a path through the crowd, towards the last place I’d seen Dad and Calhoun. I arrived just in time to witness Calhoun quietly slip away. The man had flamin’ red hair and a red beard to match; you couldn’t help but notice the Irish man in a crowd, yet he’d pulled the disappearin’ act a hundred times, and I knew what trick was comin’.

  Remaining a few feet away, I was ready to rescue the damsel, but only if necessary.

  “What do you look forward to the most, now that Bear is home, Mr. Jacobs?” Shae held her phone out towards my dad. People said he was a skinnier version of me when he was younger, but the only similarity I saw was I had his chin.

  Dad checked the ground, waitin’ for hell to break loose. “Well, I reckon-”

  The rodent raced towards his target, reachin’ Shae’s shoes quickly. Its nose twitched as he stretched up to sniff her.

  Shae glanced around, her brows pinching and lips turning down, probably feeling her new friend at her feet. She dropped her gaze to her shoes, discovering the white rat beside one. Without missing a beat, she stated, “Please hold this, Mr. Jacobs.” She blindly pressed her phone to my father’s chest, keepin’ her eyes on the grass.

  I straightened to my full height, stretchin’ my head to see everything as neighbors moved around me. Thankfully I’d already talked to most of them before the party today.

  In one lithe sweep, Shae bent at the knees and grabbed the rat by his tail then his scruff, holding each end competently.

  Damn. That was smart on her part. It ensured she couldn’t get bit.

  She rose up, rat in hand and a firm, disapprovingly glare on her face. Her eyes narrowed, shootin’ daggers at my dad.

  The man couldn’t look any guiltier. His eyes were wide with surprise.

  Pursin’ her lips, as if to challenge him, she sat the rat on her chest and let it go. The pet climbed a little higher before freezin’. “You know how I know he or she isn’t wild or dangerous?” She held out her palm for her phone.

  Reluctantly, my father passed it to her, remainin’ silent as he did it.

  “Because it didn’t fight for its freedom when I grabbed it.” Carefully collecting the rat with one hand, she passed it to my dad. “I assume, based on his exit, the rat belongs to Calhoun.”

  “Well, I’ll be.” Calhoun stepped into her line of sight. Lines creased his forehead as he took his pet back. “C’mon Bonkers.”

  “Bonkers?” Shae cocked a brow, waitin’ for an explanation.

  Calhoun shrugged his shoulders. “Cause everyone goes bonkers when they see him; ‘cept you that is.”

  I laughed quietly. It was funny as hell to see a grown man poutin’ because his prank failed. Had I not left for the military, I imagined that would have been Weasel, Gator and me. We were headin’ down that path; hell, from what I’d seen since I returned, they still were.

  “Well, before you boys invest in another shenanigan, you should know that I’m allergic to Wasps, killed a black widow in my bedroom as a child, and lived next door to an illegal snake breeder for seven years. I drop peanuts on the ground for squirrels in fall and have consumed everything from deer to gator and even pig intestines. I’m not squeamish and I don’t scare easily. Just
because I dress like a snood doesn’t mean I am one.”

  “It was his knuckle brain idea.” Calhoun pointed to his best friend before taking off.

  “Pussy!” Dad shouted.

  A few people stopped chatting to finally take notice. That was my cue to step in.

  With a few short strides, I was beside Shae. I leaned into her. “Is there anything else I should know about you, Miss Roberts?”

  Her gaze passed cautiously between my dad and me.

  I knew my old man caught the glint in my eyes, the one stakin’ its claim on the woman next to me. Her reaction to their prank had earned her instant approval with him, I was sure.

  Dad’s face split with a shit eatin’ grin. “I better go find Calhoun before he gets the sheriff all riled up again.”

  “I haven’t finished my interview. What time would be best for me to circle back around to you, Mr. Jacobs?”

  He met her gaze, a spark of mischief in his. “Why don’t you ask my son?” He walked away, leavin’ us.

  She sighed, pressin’ a few buttons on her phone. “I guess I can try to salvage a line or two from this,” she mumbled. She was ignoring me, or at least tryin’ to.

  “Atlanta is not quite the city you painted it to be before,” I stated.

  She spun to face me head on. A fire blazed in her depths, commanding my full attention. “I didn’t paint the city, Mr. Jacobs. I painted a select group of men within it. Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

  She was heated. I’d definitely struck a nerve, though I’d give her a point for professional courtesy with the ‘please.’

  “You’re mighty testy about those men.” I knew I was pushin’ her, but I loved the way she challenged me. So many women only wanted me as a trophy to show off, and left their backbone out of our tryst. She was the breath of fresh air I’d been needin’. “You’re awful close to offendin’ me since you lumped us together.”

  Her brows rose and her nostrils flared. She mashed her lips together, crossed her arms, as to inconspicuously shield herself, and blew out a harsh breath. I didn’t miss the way her breasts swelled, the way her face flushed, or the increase in her heartbeat. I couldn’t hear it, but I just knew I’d kicked it into overdrive.