Page 22 of Burning for Alexander
I nodded further down at my SUV. “I’m just there. Want to follow me?”
“Yeah, and I have you in my GPS, too.” She touched my arm again. “Hey, listen. I know you weren’t expecting me tonight, so I’llcompletely understand if you just want to show me a horizontal place to lay my sleeping bag before calling it a night.”
I appreciated the out and took it. “I can do a little better than that. Come on.”
When we got to my place, I showed her around the small cabin, helped her carry her things into the guest room, and then escaped into my own bedroom.
I expected to fall asleep the minute my head hit the pillow, and I did.
But dreams of Alex Marian teased me all night. I tried to touch him, but as soon as my fingertips brushed his warm skin, he either skittered away or disappeared.
In the morning, I awoke hard and aching. My stomach tightened with need as my breath sawed in and out of me as if I’d been fucking the man in my dream.
“Fuck,” I hissed, reaching into my shorts to squeeze my dick. When had I last been this turned on by a dream? I felt like a teenager.
After blindly fishing the lube out of my bedside drawer, I shoved down my boxer briefs and slicked up my cock, shuttling it in and out of my fist while shamelessly imagining Alexander Marian face down on my desk, gripping the far edge with white-knuckled fingers while I railed his plump ass.
I came embarrassingly quickly. Thick jets of cum shot over my lower belly, clumping into the trail of hair below my belly button.
“Fuck.”
I closed my eyes and waited for my breathing to slow down.
Alex had spent more time yesterday asking after my well-being than trying to convince me to give him an open-flame permit.
And as I got up and started my day, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
So as soon as I got into the office, I shot off another email.
7
ALEX
DrunkenPoet:Are you close with your family?
IndexEcho:No.
_____________________
I staredat the laptop screen in disbelief.
Subject: Re: Timber’s Application for Exemption Permit
Mr. Marian,
You may pick up your open flame permit for the Slingshot Showdown at the firehouse on two conditions:
1. You will agree to an increased number of fire-safety inspections for the next six months as I bring my crew up-to-speed on new inspection techniques. Legacy needs a volunteer training guinea pig and you’re it, Marian.
2. You will not set shit on fire that’s not supposed to be set on fire. Period. This includes, but is not limited to,napkin holders (again), grasses or underbrush of any kind (even if privately-owned), any part of your bar (including the walnut countertop you keep crying about), fancy cocktails (no matter how Instagrammable), or my patience.
This is not a negotiation. Take it or leave it, Firebug.
Judd Kincaid
Chief, Legacy Fire Department
My heart thundered. “He’s giving us the permit,” I said to no one in particular. In reality, that wasn’t what was causing my heart to stampede under my sternum.
