When the Smoke Clears (Interracial Firefighter Romance) (26 page)

“Okay.”

I saved my work, shut off my computer, and headed to my bedroom. Once the door closed behind me, I took off my clothes and got in bed.

“Tell me what happened,” I said as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The moon’s pale light lit up some of the room while my sheer curtains danced in the cool breeze coming through the window. It was colder than usual, but I loved a little chill. Cold temperatures called for a pile of comfy blankets and a good novel next to a fire place.

Getting under my huge comforter, I said, “Lorenzo, please tell me.”

“Okay, baby.”

Then he told me the saddest story of a woman who’d lost her way and she’d turned to the streets, drugs, and dirty men. That she’d abandoned two beautiful daughters and manipulated an amazing man. That she’d spent more of her days destroying her body than building it up, and that she could be withering away while he spoke.

Close to the end of the story, his voice cracked and I thought he’d been crying. My heart broke for him and his girls.

“Kassie. . .I’m sorry.” He sniffled a little and then, cleared his throat. “I have to go. I don’t know why I even called and told you all of this. It’s too soon to be dumping all of my baggage onto you.”

“If this is the only baggage, then, sign me up. Trust me, Lorenzo. I’ve dealt with evil. You’re not evil. You’re not the villain. You really are the hero.”

He chuckled. “And are you my heroine?”

“Yes. I’m a kick-ass one. I can save your ass in every scene.”

He laughed a little more. “Are you ready for Friday night?”

Oh shit. I forgot to figure that out.

“Um. . .so since we’re unloading.” I thought about the text that Ellis had sent. “I should probably explain to you that I’ve done some things too. We should just get it all out here.”

“Okay.”

“I shot my ex in the leg.”

“What did he do?” Lorenzo asked.

“What did he do?” I was shocked. “I’m surprised you didn’t hang up.”

“I guess it matters what he did.”

“He cheated on me more times than I could count. I found out from watching his disgusting videos of him having sex with women and men in our bedroom. And learning that he wore no condom. Oh, wait. I’m STD free. I’ve been checked and everything—”

Lorenzo’s laughter filled the line. “I know you’re fine. You take good care of yourself. I can see it every time I look at you.”

I stirred uncomfortably at his compliment. “So anyway, I became enraged, showed up at his office, and shot him in the leg. There. That’s me. I’m crazy.”

Silence passed for a few seconds and then he spoke, “What does that have to do with my seeing your lovely face, Friday night?”

“You still want to see me?”

“A moment ago, I cried like a baby and you’ve been spending all this time consoling me. We both have damaged pasts. Let’s make a beautiful future. Are you ready for our date?”

“I am. I might have to reschedule for next weekend, though. Apparently, my ex-husband, Ellis is coming up here to see Rich this weekend and he didn’t say which day. I’m assuming he’ll be here Friday night. That kind of. . .look, I haven’t seen him in a while and him coming up kind of sets me on edge. I should probably focus on that, instead of—”

“No, let’s keep our date for Friday.”

“But—”

“Whether he comes or not, I’ll wait for your call, dressed and ready to impress that night. And if you have to cancel, I’ll be fine.” Then his voice grew dark. “And if you have to shoot your ex again, call me and I’ll handle him for you.”

“Um, that sounded a little scary.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t call me if he gives you a problem.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Take care of it in a nice way.” He tried to sound cheery, but I could tell that there was violence in between the words.

He did say he had an anger problem. How bad is it?

“I’m a good guy,” he added. “Being a lieutenant, I’m always doing homework or paperwork. It’s constant relearning of old techniques and then studying new technology for fire safety. Then you have my crew and their emotions. I’m a pro at managing men’s emotions.”

“Men have emotions?” I joked. “I’m intrigued.”

“Good men have emotions,” he corrected. “And I should say I’m good at managing people’s emotions.”

“You have women on your crew?”

“Two. I constantly have to understand good conflict resolution because we’re all like this big family. Shifts last a forty-eight hours. We get ninety-six hours off and then it’s back to our station for another twenty-four together. People start to get annoyed about small things. This person didn’t clean up this or put that amount into the food budget. Some fall in love or in lust and that carries its own set of problems. It’s a soap opera half the time.”

“I should come down there with a notebook and get some inspiration.”

“Hmmm.”

“Stop that.”

“I would like it, if you came down. But, it would be a bad idea. I do have to focus, and I wouldn’t be thinking about anything else but you while you were there.”

“Hmmm,” I whispered.

“Stop it, Kassie. I’m in my car and damn close to your house. It would only take several turns and speeding through a few red lights.”

Smiling, I moaned, “Hmmm.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

“Then maybe I need to call a fire man. Do you know any that are on duty tonight?”

“I’m the only one you need to know. Where’s Richard?”

“Sleeping in his bed.”

“Hmmm. No. I can’t come over like that. I don’t want him waking up and finding me in the morning unless we’ve really figured it out.”

“Who said anything about me letting you spend the night?”

“Trust me. You’ll want me to spend the night.”

“You brag.”

“No, I tell the truth. Is your bedroom door closed?”

The word came out in soft whisper. “Yes.”

“Are you on your bed?”

“Yes.”

“Take off your panties?”

“They’re off.”

“Hold up.” His tone shifted to erotic. “Are you naked?”

“That’s how I like to sleep.”

“You’re ruining my ability to be a gentleman, Kassie.”

I slipped my fingers between my thighs. “I’m naked and touching my pussy.”

“Damn, baby. Put the phone to your pussy.”

I giggled. “Why?”

“Because, I want to talk to her for a minute.”

“Didn’t you already say enough to her on Monday.”

“No. Hold on. I’m pulling over.”

“Why?”

“Because, I’m rock hard right now. Because you’re sexy as fuck and about to make me have an accident. Because, you’re a temptress that gets off on me losing control. Because, I’m a sexual maniac apparently and I’ve met my match. Because, you’re the sexiest women I’ve ever encountered.”

My whole body throbbed with desire. “Why the sexiest? Is it because I like to play with my pussy, while I talk to you?”

“Yes and yes to anything else you can think of.” Something beeped on his side. “Is this one of the advantages of dating an erotica writer?”

“One of them. We tend to be horny more than regular authors.” I slid my fingers into my pussy. “Oh, Lorenzo. I wish you were here.”

“Me too, baby. Do you even understand how delicious you tasted? I couldn’t even drive for more than ten minutes without touching myself.”

My breathing was heavy. “Are you touching yourself right now?”

He groaned.

With a wicked smile, I whispered to him, “Are you stroking your cock right now?”

“Yes, you devilish woman, you. My fingers are wrapped around him and I’ve spit in my hand., Now, I’m smearing it all around the tip and thinking about how good it would be to have your lips here, sucking and making me go crazy.”

I sped up my finger fucking. “I’m such a good girl. I bet you’d like how I could do it.”

“Oh, yeah.” Insanity coated his words. “Tell me more or let me come and see this for myself.”

“I want you to listen to something else. I want you to know how wet I am.” Full of sexual evilness, I placed the mouth of my phone between my legs and sloshed my fingers around.

He must think I’m fucking crazy. Fine. I am, and if he’s going to be with me, then he’ll have to deal with all of me. Meet Kassie the horny writer.

I set the phone back at my ear.

“Damn you. Put the phone back,” he begged. “There were more things that she had to say!”

I giggled. “You loved that?”

“If I come to your door, will you come outside and sit in my car for a minute?”

“Absolutely not. I think you want to touch my naughty parts.”

“No, Brown Sugar. I want to do more than touch you. I want to consume you. Eat you until you’re raw and wasted. I want to devour and conquer, reap and fucking sow.”

“Reap and sow?”

“I’m going to plant seeds!”

“Uh. . .”

“Too much?” He chuckled.

“I’m not sure.” I slid my fingers in and out. “I’m getting creamier and creamier.”

“Oh God. I have to have you. At this rate, I’m going to be fucking you on the first date before you open your mouth and say hello.”

“Then should I get on my knees as soon as you show up at the door step.”

Words didn’t come next. Instead, he whined like an injured dog. “You’re killing me, Kassie.”

“Pump that hand for me, baby.”

“Yes, Brown Sugar,” he panted.

“I’m so hungry for you.”

“Trust me. I’ve got enough to fill your appetite.”

“Oooo.” Ecstasy ripped through me as I sped up my finger’s caresses. “Oh, Lorenzo.”

“Oh say that again.”

“Lorenzo,” I moaned. “I want that cock, baby. I want it all over me, rubbing against my lips and hitting my face.”

“Damn, girl.” He grunted.

“I want your balls all over me. Make me dirty, baby. Make me nasty. Cover me with you. Make my face nasty and shiny. Come all over it. Right in my mouth and on my nose. Make it drip all on in my eyes.”

“Goddamn you’re amazing!” The sound of skin sliding against skin rose over the phone.

“You’re so big. I bet your dick is big.”

“Oh I can’t wait to show you, Brown Sugar.”

An orgasm sparked in my core and spread throughout me. I no longer had any use for sentences. Just noises and hot, wet groans. “Oh. Oh. Oh.”

“Yes, Kassie. Yes, my little Brown Sugar. Come all over those fingers, baby. Make that bed fucking wet. I’m going to come over there and steal those sheets just so I can smell how good that pussy is.”

“Oh. Oh.”

“Baby, I’m about to come.”

The words tore from my throat. “Me, too.”

Then our words collided. The both of us riding each other’s nasty groans. We both panted and moaned together. So hot that I wished I could’ve recorded it all.

I closed my eyes and drank in the music. “Oh, baby.”

“God, yes.”

“This feels so good.”

“I’m going to make you feel better.”

“All night long?”

“I won’t ever stop.”

“Please don’t.”

“Not unless you asked me too.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh.”

Quiet ensued after that. Then our breathing could be heard. Finally, after another moment, he decided to speak, “I’ve never, ever met anyone like you before.”

“Good. Me either.”

“I think we were made for each other.”

I didn’t know what to say. It scared me to talk about it. I didn’t have to – he changed the topic, and we talked more, although we’d already been on the phone for two hours.

He made me laugh more than I wanted him to know. I tried to hide it, but the giggles spilled out and I found myself lounging on the bed and relishing in his voice.

He told me his story about how he’d become him. He was a mountain of a man with a soft heart. He had been damaged by his meth addict father, and his drugged out ex-wife.

There was a moment when we both grew silent and tense while he described his most difficult fire—two kids trapped in a shed that had burned to the ground. His company had arrived too late. Flames painted death all over the blackened wood. It crackled and snapped all over the yard. He weaved through the roar of the fire, got to the shed, and axed through it only to find—two crisp bodies. Stiff husks. Melted fabric over seared flesh. Small hands holding each other. Their mouths burned over in fear.

He told me about the smell. The stink of death that climbed into his nostrils and followed him as he carried the two dead kids away from the shed. He hoped that at least their parents would have something to bury.

He talked about it all—the tears in his eyes and the ones he saw in his group. The silence that filled his ears. The visions in his mind of his own twins possibly dying one day and the promise that he’d do his best to appreciate every moment with them.