Burned(36)

Resting my elbows on top of my desk, I run my palms over my face and hold my head in my hands. I’m sitting here like an * thinking about a woman who might be, at this very minute, doing everything in her power to make up with her husband and apologize for her affair.
Goddammit, I hate that word. Affair, fling, quick f*ck… no matter how I twist the words, they all mean the same thing—a moment in time where a lapse in judgment causes a lifetime of regret. No matter how angry I am that she dismissed me so easily, I will never regret it. I will never regret touching her body, making her come so hard she screamed or finally sating the need I’ve always had for her.
Too bad all I did by screwing her was royally screw myself in the process. Once wasn’t enough. Twice wasn’t sufficient. Every day until I die wouldn’t stop the burn. All I did by taking what I’ve always wanted is light a match to the pile of kindling and make it explode. Now I’m stuck here with nothing but memories to keep me warm while she lives the rest of her life with someone else. Spending the last seventeen years constantly thinking about her was bad enough. Having to go another seventeen now that I’ve been inside her will be damn near impossible.
“Yo, Captain, there’s someone here to see you.”
Pulling my head away from my hands, I see Martinez standing in the doorway.
“Go ahead and take him upstairs to the weight room. Might as well start the tour with the new treadmills we just got in,” I tell him, grabbing the phone messages and crumpling them into a ball.
“But it’s-”
“The weight room, Martinez,” I cut him off.
“I don’t think you-”
“Jesus Christ, just take him to the weight room!” I argue, glaring at the rookie.
The poor guy runs from the room like his ass is on fire and I toss the crumpled phone messages into the trashcan next to my desk. I’ll apologize to him later. Fuck, I’ll have to apologize to the entire house for my short fuse the past week.
Pushing aside all thoughts of the woman who f*cked up my life, I storm out of my office and make my way upstairs to the weight room. A tour of the house and a meeting about protocol is just the distraction I need right now.

Chapter 13—Hearts on Fire

STARING AT MYSELF in the wall of mirrors in the dimly lit room, I nervously fuss with my long hair, smoothing the soft layers over my shoulders as I take in my outfit. I’d paired a short black miniskirt with a form fitting grey cotton shirt, an ensemble that hugs my curves and highlights my best assets. It’s what I have on underneath my clothes that has butterflies flapping around in my stomach, though. The lace at the tops of the black thigh-highs is just barely hidden under the hem of the skirt. If I sit down, cross my legs, bend over or shift more than an inch, the garters and lace will peek out and make themselves known.
I try not to trip in my five inch black stilettos as I turn away from the mirror and slowly walk around the room, running my hand over the exercise equipment. The guy who let me in here couldn’t keep his eyes off of my legs, so I can only hope it has the same affect on Collin. I need him unfocused and seething with lust so he’ll give me a chance to talk before he throws me out on my ass. Considering he hasn’t returned any of my calls this week, I’m pretty sure it’s going to take everything in my limited arsenal of seduction to get him to listen to me right now.
My plan of attack didn’t really make it beyond what I would wear when I showed up at the firehouse. Everything I want to say to him is a jumbled mess in my mind and I pray to God it doesn’t get even more screwed up the minute I see him again.
I can’t count the number of times Collin made me trip over my words when we were teenagers. He was the cutest guy in our school, incredibly sweet, smart and funny and I never fully wrapped my head around the fact that he chose me to be his girlfriend. Two years together didn’t cure me of my nerves where he was concerned. Now, after having taken him inside my body and sharing something so shockingly intimate, those nerves feels a thousand times stronger. I want him to see me as something more than the teenage girl he once knew or the woman who f*cked him within days of finding him again. I want him to know me and I want him to like the person that I’ve become. I know I’m completely contradicting myself by coming over here with the intention of seducing him to get what I want, but I don’t have it in me right now to care. There’s nothing I won’t do to make him understand.