Fighting the Flames (Firefighter Romance #1)(59)

“No fair.” Angela pouted, wrists bound above her head; she made for a mouthwatering sight.

“How is it not fair?”

“I don't know,” she admitted with a laugh. “Somehow you always surprise me.”

Derek knelt next to her on the couch and ran a finger across her stomach, watching the way his touch gave off the tiniest of shivers.

“I like to surprise you,” he whispered and kissed her flesh as he skimmed the softness of her thigh. “I was wondering if maybe you'd let me take you out to dinner again tonight.”

“Mmmm… dinner.” She closed her eyes as his fingers slipped into the panties and roamed in the nest of curly red hairs between her legs. “Maybe…”

“We could invite some friends,” he said, easing one finger inside her and watching her nipples harden. “If you like.”

“I like.”

Her mouth opened slightly, and she stared at him, eyes colored with desire, her lush body his for the taking.

“I'd love to meet your friends,” he whispered. “Learn more about you.”

His fingers continued working their magic as he leaned up and nipped at her breast. She moaned and her hips arched, demanding more. He obliged by using his thumb to create a soft, swirling pressure on her most sensitive part.

“I want you,” she begged.

“I know,” he said. “I can feel your desire. Close your eyes.”

She did so. Derek used his free hand to conjure a spell. In an instant, his pants were gone. He removed his fingers from her, pleased at her small cry of anguish.

“Shh… let's get these off you,” he said and removed the panties. Pausing a moment to admire her beautiful naked body spread out before him, Derek thrust himself inside her. She gasped in delight and guided her hips to counter his movements.

“Derek,” she moaned, and he couldn't hide his grin of satisfaction.

If he used a little magic to enhance his skills, the woman going wild with an orgasm below him would never know the difference.

As he closed his eyes and let himself go, he saw Jacqueline, her moans that he wanted to hear, her cries for more that he wanted to fill the room, and her voice saying his name.

Soon enough, he told himself as he climaxed. Soon enough.



****



Toby floated in the dark. He didn't know where he was exactly, but he heard the whimpers and moans of others around him. Every now and then, someone let out a scream and roused the others until all had quieted down again. Men, women, children were floating with him.

But where were they?

His body felt lighter, yet he couldn't determine if he was in water or air. He reached out with his senses—smelling, touching, hearing—yet nothing helped him. Time appeared to have stopped, and worst of all, his gifts, his magic was gone. He couldn't even work up the smallest of spells.

Despair flooded him.

“Can't give up hope,” a voice whispered, and he jerked at the sound. “Not all is lost.”

“Who are you?” Toby squinted in the darkness.

“One who has been locked in this box a long time.”

“Box?”

“Yes. This is the Box of Souls.”

“How do I get out?”

“It's always the same set of questions, isn't it? Where am I? How do I get out?” Irritation caused the speaker's voice to louden. “The question should be this: why should you be allowed out? After all, someone reaped your soul for a reason. That only happens to the very bad ones. I should know.”


“I don't belong here. Jacqueline put me in here by mistake.”

“Oh, that's what they all say,” the voice hissed, uncomfortably close to his ear.

“It's true.” But the words sounded weak even to Toby.

There was silence, and Toby thought the voice had gone. Then he spoke again. “You say Jacqueline put you in here? The special one?”

“Yes. She is definitely special.” Toby couldn't keep the grumble out of his tone, and the other entity laughed. “How do you know about her? And what are you exactly?”

“I am”—the voice paused and announced with flourish—”the Keeper of Souls.” Toby let the silence grow, not sure what to say. “Did you not hear me?” the voice hissed again. “I'm the Keeper of Souls.”

“Oh, yeah. I heard you. Good for you.”

“You think it's clever to be blasé, don't you, boy?” The voice pressed to his ear. “But you know what, I'm the only friend you'll find in this place. I'm the only one who knows what's what. You better be nice to me.”

“I meant no offense.” Toby made his voice more humble than he felt. “It's just that I'm a little on edge. I can't see anything, including you. I don't suppose you can do anything about that?”

“I could if I wanted to.” The voice laughed. “But why would I want to?”

“I like to see who I'm making deals with.”

A soft, rustling sound filled the space and a green light glowed around Toby. He squinted at first, but after a moment, he grew accustomed to the subtle brightness and saw the figure responsible for the light.

A young man stood before him. Blinking, he gave Toby a wide smile. Dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt, his brown hair was shaggy and wild. But the eyes captured Toby's interest. They sparkled with mischievousness.