Fire of Desire [Southern Heat 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Read online

  Southern Heat 1

  Fire of Desire

  Freelance Photographer Hannah Larkin is always searching for the next big assignment, but when a fire breaks out in her apartment building, she snags the greatest assignment of her life: crossing paths with two strapping, sexy firefighters, Chance Yarborough and Lucas Shelby. Chance, a handsome cowboy from Georgia, wants to tame Hannah's fiery spirit and make her his own. Lucas, a charming, irrepressible Virginia bad boy, hopes to peel away Hannah's cool, fast-talking exterior to get a man-sized helping of the smoking hot, prim and proper, cosmopolitan city girl. Southern boys to the core, the two dedicated firefighters set out to capture newcomer Hannah's mind, body, and heart. What follows is a scorching-hot chase that's bound to set the quaint town of Sherwood Falls, Virginia ablaze!

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

  Length: 31,189 words

  FIRE OF DESIRE

  Southern Heat 1

  Alexa Aaby

  MENAGE AND MORE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage and More

  FIRE OF DESIRE

  Copyright © 2014 by Alexa Aaby

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-938-3

  First E-book Publication: July 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Fire of Desire by Alexa Aaby from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Alexa Aaby’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Aaby’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  Here’s to you, my readers. I hope you enjoy the journey.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  About the Author

  FIRE OF DESIRE

  Southern Heat 1

  ALEXA AABY

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  At 9:15 p.m. on a warm Thursday night in the town of Sherwood Falls, Virginia, freelance photographer Hannah Larkin heard a series of abrupt raps upon her third-floor apartment door. She was in the middle of preparing dinner and was not expecting any company that evening. Startled by the urgent sound of the knock, she reached for the hand towel lying next to the kitchen rack, quickly wiping her fingers clean of the juice from the fresh lemon she had just cut and squeezed.

  Who could be knocking on my door at this hour? she thought, rapidly running the possibilities through her mind.

  Walking out of the kitchen across the living room floor, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted lights flashing through the slightly opened mini-blinds lining the front window.

  Arriving at the door, she paused for a moment and then asked, “Who is it?”

  “It’s the Sherwood Falls Fire Department,” a deep voice answered.

  Looking through the peep hole, Hannah saw a tall man with dark hair dressed in a fireman’s uniform. She immediately opened the door. The smell of smoke filled the hallway. Suddenly, she became filled with anxiousness.

  “What’s happening?” she asked urgently, peeping out the door.

  “Ma’am, there’s a fire in the unit just below you. You need to come with me downstairs now,” the man instructed.

  Plagued by episodes of anxiety attacks since her college dormitory caught fire five years ago, Hannah’s heartbeat accelerated. She started breathing heavily. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

  Forcing herself to concentrate again, she noticed his alluring deep-brown eyes studying her surprised expression. For a few seconds, his incredibly bright smile captivated her attention. Her frantic thoughts settled. She started to calm down. To avoid being so obvious, she focused on the uniform. The tag on his shirt told her that his last name was Shelby.

  “OK, I’m coming,” she said.

  Hannah leaned back inside the doorway and grabbed her purse from the sofa end table. Stepping into the hallway, she closed the entry door and followed the fireman down the five flights of stairs to the main landing. Once she was safely outside on the concrete walkway, he and another fireman climbed the stairs again to assist the few remaining residents still inside.

  Most of her neighbors, some from her building and others from the surrounding community, were standing on the grass in front of the apartment. They were carrying on inquiring conversations, watching as each of the final residents made their way out the main door.

  Looking around, Hannah spotted Mrs. Jansen, who lived on the first floor. The elderly woman made it her business to keep up on all things pertinent and not so pertinent within the complex. She quickly approached Hannah wearing a powder-blue terry-cloth robe and slippers.

  “Hannah, sweetie, thank goodness, are you all right?” Mrs. Jansen asked in her usual lyrical Southern accent, stroking her huge tabby cat, Mr. Whiskers, while one of the firemen propped open the main entrance door wit
h a large, silver canister.

  “I’m OK, Mrs. Jansen. What about you and Mr. Jansen?”

  “Walter and I are just fine. He’s right over there,” the woman stated, pointing in the direction of the parking lot. “He’s talking to Mr. Pennington. Do you know him? Walter and I and a few other neighbors play canasta at his place at least once a week. He’s lives in the building across the street. He’s nice enough, but if you ask me, the man needs to see an eye doctor ASAP. His glasses are as thick as soda bottles, and it still took him forever to recognize Walter, you know, squinting and all. He’s about as blind as a bat. Honey, let me tell you, whatever you do, don’t ever grow old. Aging can be such a terrible thing…”

  “One of the firefighters knocked on my door. What happened exactly?” Hannah asked, politely interrupting the overly talkative woman.

  Before she answered Hannah, Mrs. Jansen straightened the dark-blue head scarf that covered her mixed gray-blonde hair. “Oh, you don’t know? Well let me give you the 4-1-1. Mr. Thompson in apartment 2-A fell asleep with a pot of boiling water on the stove. He left it there for so long, the damned thing started burning up.”

  “Oh my God, that’s terrible!” Hannah exclaimed.

  “Oh, yes it was, my dear. Mr. Whiskers alerted us to what was going on, didn’t you, my beautiful pussy cat,” Mrs. Jansen said with a smile, stroking the feline’s wide back.

  “No,” Hannah replied. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes he did. He sat near the front door just meowing and scratching like he desperately needed to get out. Now you know Mr. Whiskers is a house cat. He practically never goes outside, but he wanted out of that apartment in the worst way. If you ask me, Thompson’s too forgetful. Pardon my French, but the man’s a forgetful fool. He could have set the whole building ablaze,” she said with a staunch look of disapproval spreading across her aging face.

  “Is Mr. Thompson all right?” Hannah asked.

  Looking up at the second-floor landing through the large pane of glass in the front of the building, Mrs. Jansen said, “I guess he’s OK. Here he comes now.”

  Mr. Thompson, who was also dressed in a robe and slippers, walked out onto the lawn, expressing his regret to all within hearing distance. When he was done, he headed off to speak with some other neighbors standing farther away down the lawn.

  The fireman, who had escorted him outside, was a tall, muscular, dark-blond-haired hunk of a man with eyes as green as the ones Mr. Whiskers possessed. He smiled at the two women, approaching them with authority.

  “Are you ladies all right?” he asked in a smooth, Southern accent, quickly turning most of his attention to Hannah.

  “Yes, we are thanks to you handsome young gentlemen,” Mrs. Jansen replied with a sly smile. “Isn’t that right, Hannah?” she questioned, nudging the young woman in the side.

  “What? Oh, yes.” Reading his name tag, staring up at him with wide, deep blue eyes, Hannah said, “Thank you, Mr. Yarborough.”

  “Call me Chance. The potential disaster was avoided. After we clear out the rest of the smoke, you ladies are free to return inside.”

  “Hannah’s a photographer from up north in Philadelphia,” Mrs. Jansen blurted out to Chance, still stroking Mr. Whiskers. “I’ve seen some of her work. She is so talented. Her photos are simply extraordinary. They are so striking. She seems to have quite the eye for beautiful creatures.”

  “Oh, really? It sounds fascinating,” Chance responded, looking into Hannah’s eyes. “So how long have you been a photographer?”

  “I’ve been freelancing for the past three years,” she explained, pushing a lock of her dark golden-brown hair behind her ear.

  After listening to the exchange between Hannah and Chance, Mrs. Jansen said, “Well, if you two young people will excuse me, I’m going to fetch my husband.”

  As Mrs. Jansen made her way across the fresh-cut grass, the fireman who had knocked on Hannah’s door came out of the building, joining them on the lawn.

  “Hannah, this is my partner, Lucas Shelby.”

  Standing eye level with Chance, Lucas produced a charming smile, two deep dimples forming just beneath his cheek bones. Although he was in the business of saving lives, he looked a little dangerous with his attractive, dark-brown eyes and black hair.

  “Thanks again for your help,” she said, shaking his hand.

  “Call me Luke, or call me anytime,” he replied with a grin. He also spoke with a Southern accent and seemed quite sure of himself. “We are both at your beck and call.”

  Squeezing his partner’s shoulder, Chance said, “It was our pleasure. It’s all in a day’s work.”

  “Well, I say you guys are real heroes. What would the public do without you?” Hannah asked.

  Half laughing, Chance said, “I don’t know if we can handle so many accolades at once. You’re about to make us blush.”

  Although the building remained intact, escaping any real damage, Hannah couldn’t help but feel appreciative. And besides that, the two men were both so good looking, however, very different in appearance and demeanor. Chance seemed to be the quintessential gentleman while Luke was more than willing to play the part of the bad boy. She found them to be intriguing and quite exciting.

  Not wanting Chance to get away, Hannah felt compelled to make the next move. “I’ve received calls on behalf of your local fire station seeking donations. I’ve given in the past, but after tonight, I’d like to give more, to do more.”

  “Really, is that a fact? How much more would you like to do?” Luke asked, eyeing Hannah’s tight blue jeans and formfitting pink T-shirt.

  When she pulled her long, thick hair behind her shoulders, it fell to her back and settled just above her tailbone. Both men could clearly see the outline of her nipples poking out from beneath her lightly lined bra. The very sight of her firm, full tits made Luke slowly lick his lips.

  Hannah detected his overtly sexual response. She hadn’t misread him because Chance smiled a bit, shook his head, and looked down to the ground. She decided to ignore Luke’s behavior along with his comment. Changing the subject, she said, “I was just thinking if I could speak to your captain, I’d love the opportunity to discuss the possibility of arranging a photo shoot, highlighting your day-to-day operation. Maybe together we could boost your fundraising efforts.”

  “Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” Chance agreed. “You may be on to something. Do you have a business card? I’ll give it to Captain Jacobs. Of course, I can’t speak for him, but I’m pretty sure he’d be interested.”

  “I’ll say, you should hear him complain about the lack of funds coming in to the firehouse,” Lucas added.

  Reaching into her purse, Hannah produced her card, handing it to Chance just as the last remaining firefighters made their way out of the building carrying a large ventilation fan, giving the all-clear signal.

  “Your captain can reach me in the morning after 9:00 a.m. Please tell him I’d love to run a few ideas past him, and I’m looking forward to his call.”

  “You bet. Well, good night, Hannah,” Chance said.

  “Goodnight, Chance, good night, Luke,” she replied.

  “You take care now. Hope to see you soon,” Lucas told her, locking eyes with her, lingering for so long that Chance had to grab him by the arm and pull him away.

  When the two men reached the ladder truck, Chance whispered, “What was that about, man? You know we’re not supposed to engage the public in that way when we’re on duty.”

  “Chance, to hell with that, bro, she is smoking hot. Did you see that tight, sweet body of hers? I wanted to throw that honey down on the grass and fuck the shit out of her, right there in front of everybody. I don’t know about you, dude, but my dick is as stiff as a steel rod.”

  “Whoa, slow down, Luke. I’ve got eyes, I can see. She is sweet, and I feel it too, but she’s a lady. We’ve got to be careful with her.”

  “What? Wait a minute. You’re really into her, aren’t you?” Luke asked, smiling mi
schievously.

  “Yeah, I think I am. She is gorgeous. Her eyes are such a sexy shade of blue. They’re more violet than blue, I’d say. I swear I felt like she was hypnotizing me into submission right there in front of her elderly neighbor.”

  “OK, so you like her—apparently a lot. You’re my best bud, so I’ll ease off for now, but when the time is right, we’re gonna break her in like one of those wild fillies back on your parents’ ranch.”

  “Do you promise? Give me your word that you’ll back off,” Chance requested.

  “You can bet on it, but when the time comes, and believe me it will, we’re gonna rock her world,” Luke assured him before the trucks rode off into the night.

  As Hannah reentered the building, Mr. and Mrs. Jansen followed her.

  “Hannah, darling, I must say that young man was such a gentleman,” Mrs. Jansen said.

  “You mean Chance? I can’t argue that. He seemed to be quite nice,” Hannah agreed.

  Not being one to let sleeping dogs lie, Mrs. Jansen continued, “And he’s so good looking. Did he ask you out? I saw you give him your card.”

  “That was concerning a possible business arrangement, Mrs. Jansen, nothing more,” Hannah responded as they climbed the stairs.

  “Are you sure?” her neighbor asked, arriving at her apartment door. “You are a gorgeous young woman, Hannah. You’ve got a lot to offer. That man should be so lucky. Never forget, what starts as a business arrangement can quickly turn into something—”

  “Oh, leave her alone, Helen,” Mr. Jansen said. “Pay her no mind, Hannah,” he said, running his hands through his silver-gray hair. “My darling wife doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone. You have a good night, young lady.”