Bad Boy's Lust (Firemen in Love Book 1) (6 page)

He beamed. “Finally, something I'm good at – looking hot.”

“Do you always have to be so full of yourself?”

He threw his arm around me while I booted the camera up and fiddled with the settings. There was no way he couldn't feel me trembling.

“What's wrong with that when it's the truth?” He whispered in my ear, each word making me shiver. “You think I'm attractive, don't you, Pink?”

I instinctively backed into him, pressing up against his hard chest and... That wasn't the only thing hard rubbing against me. Oh, God.

“I can't deny it,” I murmured.

He whirled me around and looked over me with approval. “Just the same as I can't deny how beautiful you are. Far too pretty, in fact, to be sitting at home alone every night.”

Nervous as hell, I dropped the camera. Thankfully, the rug cushioned the fall.

“You're young and sexy,” he continued. “You should be out dancing, flirting, and picking up guys to bring home. You could have a new one every week. Or even every night, if you're ambitious.”

“I'd rather not. One is enough for me.”

“Yet you don't even have that.”

I frowned. What he said bothered me. “Shut up and smile for the camera.”

“I'll make a deal with you.” He leaned against the wall and I snapped a couple of shots. “I'll give this dating thing a chance – if you do, too.”

“I
am
giving it a chance.”

“No, you're not. You turn down guys left and right 'cause they're not perfect for you, whatever that means. I got news for you: No man's ever going to be perfect. You can be just as happy with good enough.”

“Mm. Should I really be taking dating advice from the likes of you?”

I reviewed the pictures I'd taken. Damn, he looked like a model in every single one. Lucky jerk.

Even luckier, though, were the girls he took to bed.

I wished I was one of them. Knew I'd regret it in the morning. Didn't care.

“You know I'm right.”

“Whatever. So what exactly is this deal of yours?”

“A double date.”

My thumb slipped and I accidentally took a picture of his shoe. Oh, boy. What mess was he gonna get me into now?

“I'll find a nice girl to take out tomorrow night. You pick from one of those boys who've been messaging you. We'll all go out together to Jezebel's.”

“That fancy nightclub? I sure as heck can't afford that. The cover alone is $40 a person. It's $10 for a single draft beer.”

“I'll take care of it.”

He was planning something. I knew that look.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I'm tired of watching you mope around the apartment every single day. You're bored, lonely, and stressed the hell out.”

“No I'm not –”

He strode toward me and gently stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Yeah, you are. Ever since you took ownership and moved in here, you've been running around like a headless chicken. I keep thinking you're gonna implode one day.”

Did he... Was he trying to say he
cared
about me?

No way. Jayce Reinhard cared for nobody but himself.

But he was right.

“You want me to settle down? Well, I can't promise that. But I
can
promise I'll go on a date tomorrow night if you'll come with me.”

“I guess you do need a babysitter.”

“Exactly. I'm good in bed, but when it comes to romance, I haven't got a clue.”

“I'm sure you could be a gentleman if you tried.”

He wandered away to the couch. My cheek still tingled where he touched me.

“Gentlemen are no fun at all.” He loosened the top button of his shirt. “You need a bad boy in your life.”

Another button, then another. The flaps of his shirt fell open. His tattoos peeked out at me, dark, mysterious swirls of black ink that meant something to him, and him alone. They were beautiful against the tan of his skin. Who
wouldn't
stare?

“What are you doing?”

“If you're taking shots for my profile, better get a few of these too.” He shifted; the shirt opened more. “Or maybe I'm stripping for
you
. Consider yourself lucky – a personal show, free of charge.”

He'd been working out. His abs were a well-defined six pack so irresistible, I longed to put my hands on him. He followed my gaze. Smiled.

“You love attention, don't you?”

“Adore it.”

I raised my camera. He wanted me to take pictures? Oh, I'd take some damn pictures.

Didn't tell him I'd be looking at these for “inspiration” in bed later tonight...

“I want to see your profile next.”

I cringed. “No, you don't.”

“Yeah. Now I'm curious what
your
pictures look like. If you've got any half-nude shots up there.”

“Why?” My voice cracked. “Of course I don't.”

He slowly stroked the little patch of hair around his navel. I imagined him tracing those deliberate circles on my own flesh. Squirmed when I realized how wet I'd gotten.

“So it's okay for me, but not you?” He wagged his finger. “Not fair. We need some pics of you in a short skirt. Hike it up, show a bit of thigh. A hint of cleavage wouldn't hurt, either. Bet you'd score a thousand messages per day if you did that.”

“Jayce, damn it.”

“What's wrong? I thought you wanted to find the love of your life.”

“Not by acting like a slut.”

He shrugged. “Desperate times, right?”

“Who said I was desperate?”

His stare was full of fire and lust. I could barely breathe when he looked at me that way.

“I'm not a fool, Pink. Bet you haven't gotten screwed properly in a very long time. And you know what? That's just a shame.”

I couldn't even argue with him.

“Maybe it'll happen on this double date of ours.”

He nibbled his lower lip. It was so sexy.
Too
damn sexy.

“There's no maybe about it.”

He stood, revealing more of his gorgeous chest to drool over. He was teasing me, tempting me with what I could have if only I had the courage to ask.

“I promise you this, Elle. Tomorrow night, I'm gonna make sure you get laid.”

Chapter 5 - Jayce

I felt like a fool as I pulled into this chick's driveway. I'd never been the sort of guy who picked girls up for dates.

The ladies were the ones who came to me. If they wanted it bad enough, that is. And they always did.

“Guess this is it.” I checked the address on my phone to be sure. “Yep, Windsor Avenue. This is the place.”

I laid into the horn. The front door opened, and a girl with curly red hair poked her head out. She gawked at me for several seconds, muttered something under her breath, and went back inside.

I knew right away there was gonna be trouble.

“PussyKat2005” was this girl's screen name on that ridiculous website Elle signed me up for. Her real name, or so she said, was Reese.

In all of her pictures, she had been blonde and skinny. Not too shabby. I told Elle she'd do for a fling.

“This isn't supposed to be a fling,” she scolded me. “You're trying to find a girlfriend and get yourself a wife.”

I told her I thought “wife” was a dirty word. She punched me in the chest.

Probably just an excuse to put her hands on me.

That was okay by me. I
liked
it when she got physical.

Why didn't I make a move the night before? She was obviously into me. And I'd already jerked off twice today thinking of her. Of that sweet little ass bouncing as she ran. Of her perky nipples peeking at me through her wet shirt.

Yikes. My pants were suddenly quite a bit tighter in the crotch.

Where was this Reese girl? I sighed and honked again. She'd better not make us late to Jezebel. Elle hated it when I was late.

It
was
pretty damn cute, though. She'd fold her arms and tap her foot and fake this dramatic sigh while checking the time on her phone.

Too adorable.

I could get her naked if I wanted to, easy as pie. Too bad I wouldn't feel right about it.

She was like family to me. Not the way Heather and I were, obviously, but more like a close cousin. We'd pretty much grown up together, with her spending the summer at Debbie's house every year from third grade to twelfth.

Not only that, she was an awesome friend. I knew from experience that screwing your friends was a bad idea. They thought it meant something, that it was more than just sex.

It never was. They hated me when I said that.

I'd lost a lot of friends that way. Didn't want to lose Elle, too. Besides, we lived in the same building. Talk about a recipe for problems.

So, as badly as I longed to rip off her clothes and show her what she'd been missing all this time, I'd keep it in my pants.

Flirting was okay, though. Wasn't it? I liked flirting with her. It made me happy. Made me forget my problems for a little while.

“Coming, jeez!” A girl's shrill voice pierced my eardrums. “Thought you'd come to the door to get me. This
is
a date, right?”

The redhead hurried down the steps with a grunt, her face just about the same shade as her hair. She was skinny, all right. Almost too much so. Looked like she could do with a burger once in a while.

She opened the passenger door of my truck and peeked in at me. The girl looked vaguely familiar, but not much like the photos I'd perused online.

“Uh... Are you Reese?”

She finally smiled and flipped her frizzy hair over her shoulder. “That's me. God, you're cuter than I expected.”

Didn't have to tell me that.

“Get in.” I patted her seat. Elle was waiting. “You... Well, you don't look much like your pictures.”

She had a nasally and very annoying laugh. “Guess not. Those were from a couple months back. Then I got my hair dyed. You like redheads, don't you?”

Not really.

“Sure do.”

She climbed into the truck. Her bright-blue dress lifted over her thigh a bit further than intended. I got a good view, too.

Didn't care.

The realization smacked me in the face hard as a bag of rocks. Usually, there was nothing I liked better than to ogle a pretty girl. Well, except for getting her naked and in my bed, I mean.

But right now, I just
didn't care.

The only woman I wanted to see naked was Elle.

Fuck me, I was in trouble.

“So where are we going?”

“Jezebel. It's a pretty sweet club downtown.”

She had already heard of it. Her eyes got big and she grabbed my arm just a little too hard. Her sharp red fingernails nearly punctured my skin. Hoped she didn't have some kind of communicable disease.

“Are you
serious?
”

I shrugged. The poor girl was about to explode with excitement.

She whipped a phone out of her purse, which looked to be stuffed with a bowling ball or something. What the hell did she carry in there, a severed head?

Elle rarely even carried a purse. Too much of a pain in the butt, she said. That was another thing I liked about her.

“Ooh, I gotta tell Jackie and Kelly about this!”

She typed out her manifesto while I navigated traffic. Why did I let Elle talk me into this? I didn't
do
dates. It was just too much trouble.

I didn't intend to get married, so why even bother? Yeah, I knew what the will said. I
had
to, or I'd lose the property. So would Elle.

Couldn't let that happen. I'd find some way out, some kind of loophole, before the year was up. Dad was never gonna take Shady Acres from me. The bastard had already taken enough as it was.

Reese shimmied closer to me. A cloying aroma filled my nose, and I had to hold my breath to keep from getting sick. She rubbed up against me like a cat in heat.

I stiffened, and not in a good way.

“So you're a fireman. That's totally hot.”

“It's hard, dangerous work. Nothing all that glamorous about it.”

“Sure there is. You've gotta be really brave. You rush into burning buildings and save lives.”

I guess. Last call we got, some idiot left a lit cigarette on the couch and his trailer went up in flames. He ran outta there in his underwear, carrying his bulldog and shrieking like a girl. His wife screamed at him in the yard for a half hour while we put out the fire.

Like I said, not too glamorous.

Thankfully, it didn't take long to reach Jezebel. Being a Friday night, the place was packed with cars. The music was so loud, the vibrations shook my feet through the pavement soon as I got out of the truck.