Lights to My Siren Read online

  Shoving her over to the other side of my large king sized bed, I stripped my pants off at edge of the bed, and slipped in beside Baylee. Luckily, she stayed on her side, otherwise, I couldn’t be held accountable for my actions. My brain was working at a snail’s pace, and I didn’t have the will power to push her off myself at that moment in time.

  Sleep claimed me once I got the comforter settled over my lower half, and my last thought was I could get used to this.

  Chapter 8

  Baylee

  Monday

  I smiled when I saw my phone light up again. It happened a lot lately. Sebastian questioned me constantly.

  Sebastian- Favorite color?

  Baylee- Brown.

  Sebastian- Why brown?

  Baylee- I’ve become fond of the color of light beer lately.

  Sebastian- That’s incredibly weird.

  Baylee- Sexual preference?

  Sebastian- Blonde. Boobs. Legs.

  I snorted, drawing the eyes of my brother over the mug of his coffee cup. He just glared. He was used to it.

  Tuesday

  I barely held my laughter in check as I sent my latest text message to Sebastian.

  Baylee- Shoe size?

  Forty minutes later

  Sebastian- Fourteen.

  Baylee- Are you proportional?

  Sebastian- As in, is my dick the same size as my shoes? I wish.

  I snorted. I did too.

  Two hours later

  Baylee- have you ever been to Hurricane Harbor?

  Sebastian- The theme park?

  Baylee- Yes.

  Sebastian- Once when I was a kid. We usually went to Sea World.

  Baylee- How’s work?

  Sebastian- Trying my patience.

  Baylee- Do you not like working there?

  Sebastian- Boss is a dick.

  Baylee- :(

  I felt bad for him. Each night, for the past three nights, I’d spoken to him, and he’d had nothing but trouble at work. Working in a place that you hated wasn’t healthy. Especially when you had such a dangerous job.

  Late Tuesday night

  Baylee- Have a good day?

  Sebastian- Been better. Just got Johnny in bed.

  Baylee- When do I get to meet him?

  Sebastian- Next week sometime, hopefully. Lindsey’s mother is taking him for the weekend.

  Baylee- What’s Lindsey’s mother’s name again?

  Sebastian- Doreen.

  Baylee- You’re lucky to have her.

  Sebastian- What are you wearing?

  One-track mind that man had. He was full of sexual innuendo. In all honesty, I was too. I just didn’t let him know that.

  I was lying in bed wearing a pair of boy short underwear and a tank top that said, ‘Spooning can lead to forking,’

  I debated it all of three seconds before I snapped a picture of myself, making sure that you couldn’t tell that I wasn’t wearing any shorts. Before I could think better of it, I sent it, threw the phone down on the bed, and ran to the bathroom.

  Then I peeked out at it a few minutes later, wondering if it’d vibrated with a text message from him or not.

  Chewing my nails, I tried to control the butterflies as I walked to the bed and peeked at my phone. Then the butterflies took flight as I saw the blinking green light in the corner indicating I’d gotten a message.

  Scrounging up my courage, I opened the phone and my heart stuttered at what I read.

  Sebastian- Fuck. Tomorrow you’ve got some work to do to undo the damage you’ve caused tonight.

  Wednesday- Midnight

  I fanned myself as I put the book I’d been reading on my phone down. Was that even possible? Can you orgasm on a motorcycle just by riding it? Knowing better, but still wanting to know the answer, I clicked a snap shot of the screen and asked. Then cursed myself for sending it so late. Except, not even moments later, my phone pinged.

  Sebastian- Ummm, I’ve never actually tried that. Maybe you and I can reenact it sometime.

  My heart stuttered. That would mean I had to actually get ON a motorcycle, which I’d sworn never to do. But an orgasm, not by my own hand, sounded freaking divine right now. I’d gladly break my rule just this once.

  Chapter 9

  There comes a point in your workday where you know you’re no longer going to be productive. That point came at 7:19 today.

  -text from Sebastian to Baylee

  Sebastian

  I stared at my Captain, and barely restrained the desire to plant my fist into the older man’s smug face.

  In all my years of firefighting, nobody had ever disregarded my fears and suspicions as this man just had.

  Devon McRae was a fifty nine year old powerhouse of a man. He was surly, unyielding, and he hated my guts. He’d actually hated me ever since I’d been hired, after leaving the military. He hated the fact that his boss, at the time, had made him hire me. He hated that I belonged to a club that was composed of ‘outlaws.’ And he hated the fact that I knew more than him.

  “Listen, Captain. I know what I saw. How does it make sense that two apartment fires happened within two weeks of each other with the same accelerant used, the same grill as a starting point, and the same type of building? I know what I’m talking about here. I think the two investigators need to compare notes.” I explained.

  Devon’s mouth pursed as if he’d tasted something sour. “You’re not an investigator. You don’t have anything other than coincidences. Go get your chores done.”

  My mouth compressed as I left Devon’s office before I could say or do anything that would look bad to my parole officer.

  I’d been arrested around a year ago for taking a gun into a hospital that was supposedly a ‘weapon’s free facility.’ The gun that’d been in question had really been James’ gun; he’d shot the man that had been threatening my father’s and sister’s life.

  I’d taken the blame for shooting the man in self-defense. James is an officer of the law, and it wouldn’t have looked good for them to convict him of shooting a man. Especially when he’d just started a life with my sister. I’d wanted them to be happy, so I’d made an executive decision to take the fall.

  However, I’d thought, at the time, that they wouldn’t be able to pin a damn thing on me since it was obvious that the man James had shot was going in loaded for bear. He’d been carrying three handguns and a sawed off shotgun on his person, at the time. I’d thought it would be a cut and dry case. I’d been wrong. They’d pinned a weapons charge on me for bringing in a weapon in a weapon’s free facility. A crime punishable by up to ten years in prison and a $500,000 fine.

  Luckily, I’d only been pinned with a $10,000 fine and a year probation with monitored activity.

  When that charge had come down, I’d been a lieutenant, much to the Chief’s chagrin. When the charges were laid at my feet, I’d been demoted, and nearly canned. However, my pull with the Chief and the community’s high standing and public outrage were the only thing that kept me on the job.

  It was days like today that I didn’t think keeping my job was worth it.

  Sure, many of my friends worked with the Benton Fire Department, but I wasn’t the least bit happy. They always seemed to need my help, and never once had I complained. I knew I’d, supposedly, done wrong and needed to own up to those faults, but that didn’t give the Captain the right to treat me like a pile of crap that he accidentally stepped in.

  And let’s not even get into the fact that I hadn’t had sex in over a fucking month.

  I’d woken up the next morning, after the apartment fire I’d volunteered at with Baylee, to a raging hard on and a very warm, willing woman in my arms.

  Her overheated sex had been so hot and slippery, when I’d woken, that all it would’ve taken was a tiny push from me, and my dick would’ve slid in with zero effort. She’d soaked the front of my underwear just by rubbing up against me. It’d taken nearly all the strength in the world, times ten, to pull myself away fro
m her and get out of bed when James had come to call.

  At the time, I’d been thankful that we hadn’t done anything, but now, as frustrated and sexually deprived as I was two weeks later, I’d have given anything to go back to that morning. Fuck her like I really wanted to. God.

  “Yo, Ian. What the fuck?” Kettle asked as I walked in the room, while waved his hand in front of my face.

  I hated it when he called me Ian. My name was Sebastian. Not Ian.

  I blinked, and stared up at the other man. “What?” I growled.

  “You’ve got a phone call. Sounds like your woman.” Kettle grinned mischievously.

  “What’d you say to her?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing.” I laughed and left the room.

  I walked towards the kitchen where the old phone with the stretched out yellow cord sat on the counter face up.

  Picking it up and placing it to my ear, I listened to Baylee talk to someone instead of saying hello.

  “I told you to bring me a hamburger with no onions. Now I’m going to have bad breath when I meet him for dinner later.” Baylee grumbled.

  The response from a woman in the background made me laugh. “Just suck his dick; he won’t care what your breath smells like.”

  I secretly agreed with, who I guessed was, Winter.

  The sound of my laugh made her aware that I was listening, and she snorted. “Ian, huh? Kettle said you were in need of a good fucking. Do you agree?” Baylee teased.

  We’d spoken on the phone constantly for the past two weeks, and texted in between those times. We were like two teenagers with the way we carried on.

  We hadn’t been able to see each other since the day James and Jack, Winter’s husband, had come to pick Shiloh’s car up, and had taken Baylee home, as well. Our jobs had kept us busy, and when that wasn’t happening, I had a son to take care of and visits from my PO.

  My parole officer had decided to do a surprise visit to search for contraband, and that had taken away the one night I’d planned to drive to Baylee’s and take her out to dinner. My parole officer had just laughed when I’d told him what I was missing.

  My response of, “Two more weeks, and this’ll be over and done with,” just didn’t help.

  Baylee’s tinkling laughter abruptly shifted my thoughts from my parole officer to her.

  “I’m getting out on time tonight. I think...” I hesitated.

  She laughed again. “Do your best. Do you like going by Ian?”

  I thought about that for a second. I didn’t hate the name, per say, but I didn’t respond to it, either. “I guess it’s okay. I’ve just always gone by Sebastian and nothing else.”

  Although, when I was younger, my mother liked to call me a ‘bastard.’ I was a bastard in all reality. My parents hadn’t been married when I, nor my sister, were conceived or born. In fact, my father had actually been married to someone else. Nonetheless, that was neither here nor there.

  “It didn’t sound right to me either, although Sebastian is a mouthful.” She conceded.

  “In more ways than one.” I grunted.

  I was rewarded with more than a laugh this time. “Oh, man. That’s awesome. I wouldn’t know, but maybe after our first official date, I’d be willing to find out.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll come over after my shift.”

  Which, hopefully, would work, pending a call at the end of my shift that required me to stay, or anything else unpleasant. Johnny was at his grandmother’s house, since it was Wednesday, and would be there for the next four days. She was taking him to her sister’s in Tuscaloosa, and planned to spend the week there visiting.

  I didn’t mind. Although I’d miss the shit out of my son, I knew that I loved his ‘Gigi’ and would enjoy the extra time with her. Plus, I had plans on how to fill the time.

  “Alright, I. I’ll see you later tonight. Be careful on your way over.” She instructed and rang off.

  “Mackenzie!” The Captain’s voice bellowed from the bay area.

  I hung up the phone reluctantly, and followed the Captain’s bellowing until I found him in front of one of the engines. Benton, since it was such a small town, only utilized two engines. They didn’t have but two medics. They relied on an ambulance service to transport patients for them if things got too rough.

  The Captain was standing in front of Engine number two, the one I drove when the tones dropped. His face was nearly purple with anger.

  “Captain?” I asked as I came close enough that I didn’t have to yell.

  “This is completely unacceptable. I’ve told you numerous times that this is not a place to jack around. You’re getting written up for this!” The Captain snarled, pointing towards something on the front of the engine.

  I walked around, and my temper finally got the better of me. “The kids of the first grade elementary classes made that. What did you want me to do, throw it away?”

  The Captain was taken aback by the vehemence in my voice.

  The thing that was so ‘unacceptable’ was a thank you poster from the children of the local elementary school for teaching them fire safety. Which had saved a little boy’s life in the apartment fire I’d worked the night I’d left dinner early with my friends, around a month ago.

  “That’s not protocol. You cannot have that on the truck. Seconds count when it comes to getting to the scene of a fire or a call. We don’t have time to take this shit off the window.” The Captain tried to save face.

  What he was doing was making himself look like a complete ass. Wanting to show him how stupid he sounded, I walked over to the front of the engine where the Thank you poster hung from the Engine’s front. It was held in place in between the glass of the windshield and the windshield wiper.

  With a small tug, the poster came free, and I held it up for the Captain’s inspection. “I have to come this way to drive the engine, Captain.”

  The Captain had nothing to say to that, especially in front of the entire fire department, as well as some police officers that were stationed right next door.

  I wasn’t feeling vindicated though. All I had to do was make it two more weeks, and I’d bring this incident up with the head of the Fire Department. This wasn’t going to fly anymore. I’d been dealing with the Captain’s shit for entirely way too long. It was either going to be me, or the Captain.

  By eight thirty, I was on my way to Baylee’s, and extremely happy to be away from that place. Sometimes the firehouse reminded me of a soap opera set, and I was glad that I could get some time to myself to ride and clear my head before it was time to meet Baylee for dinner.

  When I pulled into her driveway thirty minutes later, I walked up to the front porch and rang her doorbell. When no one came to the door, I started to pull out my phone, but I decided to check in the backyard since she’d said she was going to get some work done in her garden.

  With one glance over the fence, I saw her, ass in the air, as she picked what looked like weeds out of the middle of her garden.

  Giving a low whistle with my teeth to warn her, I unfastened the latch on the gate and stepped inside.

  “Sebastian!” She exclaimed when she saw me entering through the gate.

  I returned her smile and walked up until my elbows were leaning against the gate that surrounded the garden and surveyed the spread. “This has really begun to grow. They were tiny little plants when I was here last.”

  Her smile widened. “I’ve always had a garden. This one isn’t half bad. Next year I think I’ll extend it to run the length of the yard. I’ll just have to figure out a system that allows the pool water to drain when I need to, but keep it away from the plants. Chlorine will kill it.”

  I nodded. Watching her work instead of talking.

  Today she was wearing blue jean shorts that looked like they used to be jeans, a black t-shirt that said Bulldog Pride on it, and a pair of tennis shoes that looked like they’d been worn for years. Her legs looked magnificent. And I wanted them wrapped around my
waist, or over her head, in the worst way.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked her, looking pointedly at the dirt staining her hands and arms.

  She snickered, but got up, washed her hands with the water hose and a bottle of soap that was sitting beside the hose. Once done, she gestured, and I followed her inside.

  She kicked off her dirty tennis shoes just inside the door, disappeared down the hallway, and came back shortly after in jeans and a pair of cowboy boots. His smile widened when I finally read the shirt she was wearing. ‘Sorry, I only ride boys with tattoos.’

  “Nice shirt, Baylee.” I chuckled.

  She smiled wide and tossed a plastic bag towards me. “I got you a shirt, too.”

  I opened the black bag, dropped it out on the couch once I grasped the t-shirt, and held it up for inspection. “If you can read this, the bitch fell off.” I read aloud. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”

  I laid the t-shirt over the couch, lifted the cap off my head, grasped the collar of the shirt at the back of my neck, and pulled it over my head. Baylee’s inhalation had me glancing at her face, and she watched rapturously as I inadvertently flexed, and then shrugged back into the shirt she bought me.

  “How’s it look?” I asked as I re-settled my hat back in place.

  She looked at me for a few moments and nodded in appreciation. “Hot.”

  “Where do you want to go eat?” I asked as we both walked towards the front door.

  Once out on the front porch, Baylee locked the door with her key, and turned to face the driveway warily.

  “This scares me shitless.” She said eyeing the bike.

  I knew it scared her. “We don’t have to take it. It’s completely up to you.”

  “I know we don’t. But I want to.” She breathed as she walked slowly toward my bike.

  Motorcycles weren’t for everyone. It would be hard not to share one of the biggest parts of myself with Baylee, but I also wouldn’t push her. It was entirely up to her if she got on my bike or not.