Page 64 of Burn Point

It’d been a long week of hard work, first removing the old, damaged deck, and then rebuilding the new one. I had several other remodeling projects lined up as my new business gained traction by word of mouth.

Exhaustion seemed to be my norm. Between the back-breaking jobs, the long shifts at the station where call volume was on the rise, and my late-night talks with Jordan, I was ready for the weekend and some down-time.

“I don’t know, man. I need to do some stuff around my house. The July Fourth party is only a week away. Plus, I need to get things picked up before Jordan gets here. I haven’t had much time to keep things up, we’ve been so busy.”

“Well, you still gotta eat,” he argued.

“I’ll let you know,” I replied, trying to be noncommittal, hoping he’d let it go.

He bumped a hand against the top of the truck bed and sighed. “All right, but it’s Cal’s turn for first round, and you know that cheap bastard needs to pay for skipping out last time.”

Cal was notorious for leaving the bar tab for someone else. It’d serve him right to get stuck footing the bill for once.

“You’re right. I’ll be there.”

Mike thumped the truck again and turned away. “See you there.”

I walked into the Alamo an hour later to see Mike with his arm wrapped over Leah’s shoulder. Though I hadn’t planned on it, and didn’t really feel like being out, spending another evening alone felt sort of pathetic. It’d do me some good to try to be social. Mike smirked as I nodded from the doorway and bent to Leah’s ear. I waved as she looked toward me and then stopped by the bar to get a beer before heading to their table.

One thing I loved about this bar was its cool atmosphere. The interior walls of the one-hundred-year-old building were original, exposed brick. Arched windows and antique-looking light fixtures, combined with the vintage beer signs, gave the whole place an eclectic vibe. In a previous era, the place had been a theater—the old red velvet curtain still hung at the stage.

The bar itself was a polished slab of wood, lined by wrought iron and wood chairs. The new owner had done a great job of restoring the building to its former glory, while adding in a few modern touches, like the strand of LED lights that ran under the edge of the bar, and an updated sound system. He’d even hung a vintage disco ball over the lower level that doubled as a dance floor.

Laughter rose from our regular table where my friends gathered. Thoren stood with Cal, scowling at Kylie, who was draped over some guy I didn’t know. I grabbed my beer and made my way to them, giving Mike a quick chin lift. Leah was gesturing animatedly to the woman in front of her.

Curious, I made my way closer. The woman wore a red bandana printed dress, held together by a simple knot over her exposed back and tight enough to display her curves. Whoever she was, it was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra and had a killer body.

I did a double take at the blonde curls. The woman looked a lot like—

Was Jordan sitting in that chair laughing with Leah? But that didn’t make sense, Jordan wasn’t due for another week.

Cal and Thoren stood on the other side of the table, and Cal tipped his beer at me, calling, “Nate, it’s about fucking time you got here.”

The woman turned in her seat, giving me a profile view as she first looked at Cal, then turned my way.

Shining, joyful eyes met mine, and her face split into a wide grin. Jordan jumped down from the seat and ran to me, screaming, “Surprise!” She hit me square in the chest and wrapped her arms around me. Mine closed instinctively around her, my palm landing on her bare back. Sizzles ran up my arm, and my dick jumped to life.

For over three weeks, we’d shared intimate phone calls, and I’d jacked off at least daily, if not twice daily, to thoughts of her. That she was here, when I’d thought she was another week out, was a huge surprise, and I was reeling.

“What are you doing here?” I asked stupidly.

She tried to pull away, and I stopped her by gripping her waist. She was here. This was real. All I could do was stare down into her beautiful eyes and not let her go.

She looked up at me with an expression that stole my breath. Happy. She was happy to be with me. “I missed you, so I skipped a part of my trip and got here early. Is that okay?” she asked quietly, almost shyly. My heart flipped over in my chest.

Wrapping my arms around her, I buried my face in her neck, breathing in the scent I’d missed so much. I ran my hands up and down the smooth skin of her back, wanting more. Every naughty phone call we’d had, every fantasy I’d jerked off to, none of it compared to having her in my arms. I lifted her feet off the floor, her squeals of delight lighting me up inside.

“It’s perfect. You are perfect. I missed you.” I pressed my lips to her throat, wanting to take her lips in a kiss—one that would burn us both to the ground—but I was vaguely aware we had an audience. I didn’t want our entire friend group to witness our first kiss. That kiss should be special and sweet and just between the two of us.

Crazy to think I’d been sharing orgasms with this woman and hadn’t tasted her yet.

She lifted her head, so I set her feet back to the floor, but didn’t release her. She pulled away slightly, hands framing my face, then she was pulling me down, and pressing those perfect lips of hers to mine.

And I lost my fucking mind.

The moment her lips hit mine, all thought, all care about who might be watching just…vanished. She tasted cool, refreshing, maybe like the seltzer she preferred. Her lips brushed mine once, twice, then her tongue glided across my lips. I opened to her, shifting a hand to her head, gripping her hair and tilting her head as I dove my tongue into her mouth. I ran my other hand down that glorious expanse of smooth skin on her back, until I had a perfect cheek in my hand.

I turned her head to one side, then the other, tipping her just the way I needed to delve into her hungry mouth. Our tongues collided, thrusting and licking, exploring each other. Each slide more ravenous than the next.

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