Page 6 of Her Fire Master (Master Me #5)

B laze

Lia’s on the fourth floor—no elevator, but the building seems secure—I have to get buzzed in. Of course, her cop brothers would probably insist on safety. She doesn’t need me to do the security check.

Not that it will stop me.

I climb the stairs and knock on her door.

And then I nearly die.

Because Lia answers in a pair of painted on jeans and skin-tight crop top—not trashy, though.

Fancy, with ruffles around the little cap sleeves and the short hem.

It makes her boobs look twice as juicy as they do in her FDNY shirt.

A pair of sexy high heeled sandals completes the look and forces me to wipe the drool off my chin.

I have plans for her—a dinner date. A serious talk.

Maybe some more heavy petting—I haven’t made my mind up about that, yet. I shouldn’t engage this way. I really can’t let this go any further. This conversation should be about making sure we never touch each other again.

But I already know that’s not gonna happen.

And my plans all go out the fourth story window when I see her. I snatch her up to me, claim her mouth like it’s always been mine. Like she was trying to keep it from me and I need to prove to her exactly who has ownership. And exactly how I intend to exercise my rights.

Her lips are impossibly soft. Supple. Tantalizing.

I lick them open and thrust my tongue in her mouth, moving from zero to ninety in these five seconds.

She bites my lower lip, gives it back to me.

My hand cups her face, the other her squeezable ass.

The same ass I got to spank to a pretty pink last night.

I still can’t believe it.

Somehow, I remember my plan. And then I try to forget it, because, damn, she tastes so good.

“I have condoms.” She’s breathless, pulling me inside the still-open door.

Her suggestion is enough to jerk me out of my lust-induced reverie. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait.” I pull away and step back onto her doorstep. “That’s not why I came here.”

“It’s not?” A mask falls over her face and I instantly curse my lack of charm.

I never had any game with females. I’m too direct.

Too serious. Way too controlling, as my ex-girlfriend Samantha was quick to point out.

And I have a tendency to jump into things too fast—a habit Samantha also made me regret.

“Well, maybe it is,” I amend, “but I wanted to take you out. Can I take you out, Sparks?”

Her lips spread into a wide smile. “Sure. Yeah.”

“Let’s go, then. You ready?”

“Yep. She picks up her purse from a hook on the wall. “Where are we going?”

I offer my hand and she takes it—the tough girl from the station replaced by pure sweetness.

Her hand feels small, soft. I love having it captured in mine—that she trusts me enough for the simple, but intimate connection.

“It’s a surprise,” I say, more than a little nervous about my choice, even though it’s a perfectly nice restaurant.

It’s just been a while since I’ve had a date.

Since Samantha moved out and took the kid I helped raise from my life without a backward glance.

Lia comes easily, though. No more questions, no arguments. Just like in her room at the station, she accepts my direction, my dominance. She may be made of sass and spitfire courage, but submission turns her on. I’m sure of it.

The question is—what am I going to do about it?

Cards on the table—I have several lurid ideas. I just know I shouldn’t suggest them.

Dating Lia is totally off-limits. Not only does she work at the station, but I’m her boss. And yet, the idea of shutting whatever’s between us down has me ready to quit my job just to fuck her.

Too fast, dipshit. Way too fast.

I hail a cab downstairs and give the address to an upscale restaurant near my place.

She smiles as we’re seated, and I fucking love seeing her face open, her shoulders relaxed.

The guys at the station have her on constant edge, ready to defend or prove herself.

I hope she doesn’t feel that way with me.

I wince a little remembering how gruff I’ve been with her.

Yeah, I haven’t done anything to help her feel welcome, have I?

It’s just now that she’s let me spank her beautiful ass that I consider her feelings.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’ve been a dick at work,” I say. “I’m not trying to ride your ass, I’ve just been worried?—”

“Worried?” she cuts in, the tension returning. I curse myself for screwing this up again.

I hold my palms out. “Not that you can’t do the job. I know you can. I guess you just inspire something protective in me, that’s all. I’m a fucking Neanderthal—what can I say? I worry more about keeping you safe than I do the other assholes.”

Her green eyes narrow and study me. “That’s sexist.”

“I know—I’m sorry. I’m not saying it’s right. Just trying to explain where I was coming from. I’ll work on it. Promise.”

The waitress shows up and asks what we’d like to drink.

“Do you drink wine?” I ask Lia.

“Yeah, sure.”

“White or red?”

“White.”

I order a bottle of white. I’m usually a beer guy, but I’m trying to do this right. After the waitress has served it, Lia leans forward. “So, is this a date?”

“No,” I say, too abruptly. Her expression turns blank again and I hurry to say, “I mean, this ”—I point between her and me—“isn’t happening at all. As far as anyone else knows.” I cock a brow. “Right?”

Her reluctant smile appears. “Absolutely. Nothing happening.” She locks her lips and mimes throwing away the key. She’s cute as hell when she’s not trying to prove something.

“Listen, I know I shouldn’t be here. I broke a million rules yesterday with you, and I could definitely lose my job over this.”

“But here you are.”

“Yeah. I sure as hell couldn’t let that ride without…” I hesitate, trying to make sure the words come out right. I’m not good with this shit. “—without connecting with you again. In private.”

She takes a sip of wine and grimaces.

I laugh. “Is it bad?”

She smiles. “Just not used to it.”

“It’s not really my thing, either. Next time I’ll take you out for wings and a beer.”

She grins and lifts her glass to clink mine. “Cheers to that.”

We order our food and she steals glances at me over the top of her wine glass. “Do you always feel like you have to take a girl out after you spank her ass?”

I choke on my water and cough, hiding my mouth with my napkin.

I’m saved from answering by the waitress bringing our food—her chicken, my steak. I watch her eat, enjoying her healthy appetite. She may be small, but her metabolism must be off the charts, because she cleans her plate in about five minutes flat.

When we finish, I insist on ordering dessert, because of the way she perked up when the waitress mentioned it.

Finally, I broach the subject I’ve been toying with since yesterday. “So, Lia. About the pyromania.”

Her fork, loaded with flourless chocolate torte, freezes on the way to her mouth.

“I could propose a theory that you chose to be a firefighter because you’re enamored with flames, but I think it’s something else. Something deeper.”

She sets the fork down, the morsel of dessert uneaten.

“I used to work over on Staten Island. Ladder number 153.”

Lia

Oh God.

I’m sure all the blood drains from my face. My dinner I so enjoyed turns into a rock in my belly.

Blaze goes on, “I remember a cop’s house burned down. There was a teenage girl.”

Damn the tears that pop into my eyes. I blink them back.

Blaze signals for the check and picks up my hand. “That’s a lot to carry, little girl,” he murmurs softly.

I can’t breathe—can’t look into his steady blue gaze. I drop my eyes to the table. He knows about our fire. Could he have guessed it was all my fault?

“Lotta guilt.”

My head jerks back up. Jesus. He put it together.

Everything.

The secret I’ve kept all these years. The reason I have to make it work as a firefigher, have to redeem myself, make sure I atone for my sins.

He doesn’t seem accusatory, though. There’s sympathy in his eyes, but also a firmness, like he’s not about to let me get away with lying, or hiding from my past.

My lips tremble. “What is this?”

He shrugs his sculpted shoulders. “As your captain, I need to know your motivations and your weaknesses. We work as a team. Our lives are literally in each other’s hands.”

The crowded restaurant swoops around me. I pull a steadying breath through my nostrils and manage to nod. “Wow. I didn’t expect this.”

“I don’t want you acting the hero because you have to make up for some past crime you can’t get over, Lia. You won’t make the right decisions. You’ll endanger yourself and the rest of us.”

I draw back, stung. Is he saying he can’t keep me on the job after all? What kind of horrible non-date is this?

“I’d like to see you work through this shit fast.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“Submit for punishment and wipe the slate clean.”

I sit there blinking for a moment, replaying his words to make sense of them.

“Punishment?” I finally croak. What is he suggesting? I turn myself into the cops? To my dad? What are they going to do—investigate a crime I committed when I was thirteen?

That’s when I see the corners of his lips turn up. The wicked gleam in his eyes.

And suddenly, my panties are soaked. My nipples harden like diamonds.

“Holy shit. You mean submit to you?” My pussy literally clenches, like his fingers are inside me again.

He doesn’t move, just watches me with that all-seeing blue gaze. But then I see he’s not breathing and I realize he’s sweating this moment as much as I am.

Sure he is. If I react badly—if I tell anyone about this conversation—anyone at all—he’ll lose his job and reputation in a flash. And just like that, the power shifts back to me.

I pick up my discarded fork and take a seductive bite of dessert. “And what would this punishment entail, Captain?”

He shifts in his seat like his dick got hard and he has to make room for it in his pants.

Good.

“Three spankings. Serious ones—the kind that leave your ass sore the next day.”

OMG, OMG, OMG. I want to put my fingers between my legs right now to alleviate the throb there.

“Will there…” I clear my throat. “Will they have a happy ending?”

His lips curve up. “I promise if you take it like a good girl, there will be plenty of rewards.”

Pussy clench.

“Wow.” Heat feathers across my face and I become very interested in forking up my next bite of torte.

“Lia, I think you’re excited about my proposal, but if you feel at all obligated—like I’m your boss and you have to do this to keep the job—tell me to fuck off right now.

Because if you’re not one hundred percent on board, I will never, ever mention any of this again.

In fact, you can think of this conversation as your job security, because you pretty much have me by the balls now. ”

I relax a bit. I wasn’t feeling obligated, but I love that he’s making himself as vulnerable to me as I feel with him right now.

“Seriously—this could be the worst sexual harassment case the FDNY ever saw. Which is pretty ripe considering I’ve been worried about keeping the other guys from making you uncomfortable.”

I take my last bite of dessert and set the fork down. “I’m in. I’m totally in.” I meet his gaze squarely.

The connection between us is electric. His lips quirk up.

“And I’m kinda terrified.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s part of the thrill.” He throws some money on the table and stands. His arm loops around my waist when I stand. “I promise I’ll take care of you, Sparks. Do you believe that?”

I look up into his rugged face. Do I? Can I trust this guy with my body? My pride?

I think of how he managed me yesterday—not just the sex part, but the way he pinned me down to get the truth out of me. If only someone in my family had done that for me after the fire. Just pinned me down and asked what I knew. If I’d started it.

Would my life have been easier?

Hell, yes.

“Yeah, I believe it.” I reach around his waist and pat his rock hard ass. “Besides, I have you by the balls, right?”

His deep laugh is rich and it warms me from the inside. “Exactly, Sparks. As it should be.”

After a cab ride back to my place, he walks me to the door. When he doesn’t follow me in, I turn and lean in the door frame.

“Did you want to come in?”

“No. Tonight I’m going to kiss you at the door and send you to bed.

We’re working tomorrow and I need you fresh.

Next Tuesday when we’re on our three day break, I want you at my place at 7 p.m. sharp, ready to submit.

If you don’t show, I’ll assume you changed your mind and I’ll never say another word about it. Understand?”

I nod.

“I need a yes, sir. ”

Pussy clench.

I lean into his space so my breasts brush his shirt. “Yes… Daddy. ”

His eyes darken. He snatches me up against him and claims my mouth with the same fervor he showed at the beginning of the evening. One hand palms my ass. I lift a leg and wrap it around his waist. Well, more like his thighs, because I can’t reach his waist.

I know he wants me—the evidence of his arousal pushes against my stomach—but he eases me back with a groan.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. I can’t wait to find out if the rest of you tastes this good.” He moves back in, cupping my mons, rubbing the knuckle of his thumb over my clit.

I cry out, already close to orgasm, just from our conversation and the kissing.

He steps back again, though, smacking my pussy through my jeans.

“Here’s a rule you’d better heed—no pleasure until after punishment.

This pussy belongs to me. Don’t touch her unless I give you permission.

” He reaches out and tweaks one of my nipples through my blouse.

“I know you’re excited. You can think about how you’ll be punished, but no touching.

You’re just going to have to let that energy build so you’re primed and ready for it when the time comes. ”

I let out a growl of frustration and Blaze rubs my ear between his fingers, then tugs it gently.

“What do you say?”

“Yes, Daddy.” He liked it when I called him that last time. I’m not going to stop.

“Good girl. I promise I’ll make it worth it, Sparks.” He winks at me and steps back to shut the door.

Oh lordy. How will I survive until Tuesday? I’m already ready to explode!