Black Lace [Internet Bonds Series Book 7] Read online

  "You are an amazing fuck,” she complimented.

  "Thank you, Mistress. You aren't too bad either."

  Brandy pulled him into another kiss. Where the hell has he been all my life?

  After dressing, Reed went to Brandy who lay naked across the bed, spent from their session.

  "If you and your date don't work out, come back to me. I'll train you,” she said. “In fact, I'll submit to you if it means your cock filling my body. You are fucking amazing,” she repeated.

  "I'll do that,” he assured her, heading to the door after he kissed her good-bye.

  "By the way, Hot Shot,” she said, stopping him. “What's your name?"

  "Reed Carrington."

  "Of the Carringtons?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "And you fight fires?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "You can light me up any time."

  * * * *

  Chelsea closed the gallery, making sure the front door was locked. She went to the door leading to the stairway to her apartment and shut off the lights leaving spotlights on in order to deter thieves. Of course, if someone really wanted any of the artwork, they could easily take it. She knew it and so did they, but the extra measures and stepped up police presence kept everything quiet and on an even keel.

  Upstairs, she checked messages on her phone, finding one from her parents wanting her to come to dinner on Saturday. She called them back.

  "I have plans this weekend,” she told them, hoping her firefighter would come through. They talked for a while before she finally said good-bye. After changing into a slinky negligee, she went to her computer then signed on to the Internet. She went through her mail, disappointed to not find any email from him.

  "Damn, maybe he got scared off,” she said to no one.

  Chelsea checked the chat room but couldn't find him online.

  "Center City firefighters battle stubborn blaze, film at eleven,” the news anchor announced during the commercial break. Something told her he was at the fire, Chelsea praying he and the other firefighters were safe. She remembered going to open houses at Merion Fire Company as a child and the firefighters explaining what they went through in order to fight fire and those guys volunteered, unlike the paid firemen in the city.

  Chelsea opted to quietly lurk to see if he signed on. While she did, she decided to take the edge off by using a toy or two. She reached over to her cedar chest near her computer table, lifting the lid to where she stored her toys. The phone rang, stopping her.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, slave, how are you?"

  "Mistress, I miss you."

  "Do you need some...” Eva asked her.

  "Yes, I do,” Chelsea told her friend.

  "Take out your favorite vibrator and get the Ben Was."

  "I like the way you think."

  "Am I on speaker?” Eva asked.

  "Yes."

  "Good. Insert the Ben Was and make sure you're naked."

  "I am and have."

  "You know what to do and I want to hear your enjoyment."

  Phone sex with Eva always surprised Chelsea but she sensed something different. After she obeyed Eva's commands, Chelsea asked.

  "You sound different."

  "I've found a guy who loves me for me."

  "Even the dominance?"

  "Even the dominance, though he is a wonderful master."

  "Congratulations."

  "Thanks,” Eva said. “What about you?"

  "Honestly, I'm hoping to train a firefighter. I'm waiting to hear from him."

  "Maybe we can do a foursome when he and I come east,” Eva suggested.

  "I love the idea."

  They talked for another hour—conversation mingling with more phone sex. When it ended, Chelsea hung up and checked her computer. Seeing no action in the chat room, she went to her latest email listing—nothing. Did I...

  * * * *

  When Reed walked into his station, he stowed his backpack in his locker, signed in then went to check out the engine he'd been assigned to for the last three years. Engine 11 responded from South Street near Independence Hall in the historic area of the city. As engine lieutenant, he wanted to make sure the apparatus was ready to go out on the next run.

  He'd gone in for the afternoon shift covering the remainder of another lieutenant's shift so he could take care of some personal business. Larry Fisher and Dan Wheldon walked in looking for him.

  "Hey, we'd thought we'd stop by to ask you how the other night went."

  "Nothing much to talk about,” Reed lied.

  "Wait a minute,” Dan said. “You leave with Jocilynne Sommersby and you say nothing much. I heard from a guy running in Kensington that..."

  "Enough,” Reed said. “I'm not interested in rumors from other stations. I know how those guys talk—and brag."

  "Okay,” Dan said, Fisher snickering. No matter how much they tried, they could never get Reed to kiss and tell. Dan offered to tell Reed about Penny Dixon but Reed stopped him.

  "Dan, don't go...” Reed started, interrupted by the dispatcher's voice.

  "Engine 11..."

  Several stations responded to a working job in Chinatown. By the time they put the fire out, they'd been on location for several hours, the fire a stubborn one. One thing hampering their efforts had been security bars on the upper floor windows. Lucky this time, Reed breathed a sigh of relief no one had been injured or killed.

  By the time they returned to their house, dawn lit up the engine room. Exhausted, the crew made sure the engine was ready for the next run. While two of the guys fixed breakfast, Reed went to take a shower and changed. Afterwards, he stretched out, sleep overtaking him.

  He bolted out of bed when the klaxons went off, the dispatcher sending Engine 11 to an auto accident on Walnut Street. Officially out one hour, they stood by with a charged line while the rescue company extricated the victim. He filled out the reports then grabbed something to eat.

  When he finally had some time to relax, he thought about the conversation from several hours earlier. So, Lynne's been fucking other guys in the department ... He could not believe a Sommersby would be that uncaring about herself but he had firsthand proof. He thought it funny she didn't recognize him but, looking back over things, it could be a blessing in disguise. Hopefully, she would stay away.

  His thoughts turned to the woman haunting his life ever since he'd met her online. While thinking about her, he put in a quick call to the lab learning his test results had come back—all negative.

  "I'll pick up the report when I get off shift,” he informed the nurse. He had to admit, relief felt damned good.

  * * * *

  While Reed relaxed, Jocilynne Sommersby plotted. No man ever left her the way the fire hot shot had. She'd promised herself years before to make sure she did the leaving and not the other way around. How dare he?

  She hadn't told Penny nor would she—she'd never hear the end of it.

  Jocilynne had a problem. She had no idea who she slept with. She'd have to go back to Engine 46 to see if she could find out his name. She also needed someone else to go with her. As much as she loved her best friend, she knew Penny would not only talk her out of revenge but would tell the Sommersbys everything. They trusted Penny to keep their daughter's actions under control. This time, Penny would have absolutely no clue.

  She called her cousin Joseph and told him some far-fetched story about being with the guy, only knowing his first name and needing to return something he'd left in the limo to him. He agreed to accompany her to the restaurant so she could find out more about her phantom date.

  "Thank you, Joe."

  She sat back deciding what she would wear for her little venture. She chose jeans, a white tank top and stiletto-heeled sandals.

  "By this time tomorrow, I'll know who you are and where to find you,” she mused. “He'll never know what hit him."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 2

  The first thing Ree
d Carrington did after he got home and greeted Ming-toi was scan his latest medical report into his computer then send it to ... What the hell is your name? While the file transfer took place, he stripped out of his street clothes and took a shower.

  Clad in a bath sheet wrapped around his waist, he dried off then picked up his clothes. He removed his uniforms from his backpack, putting them in a separate pile than the other laundry. He'd done this ever since he heard one of the Delaware County chiefs ask one simple question—Do you want to get what's left on your firefighting uniforms on your other clothes or your family's? That one question made a lot of sense. With toxins and other hazardous things a part of every call they went on, he really wanted to minimize the exposure at home.

  "You have mail..."

  Reed went over to his computer and checked his new mail, frowning. The announcement of a station get-together was the farthest thing from his mind or what he expected to see. Damn, I hope she hasn't lost interest already.

  After hanging up his towel, he slipped into a pair of silk boxers—a perk of his true lifestyle and one thing not worn to work. He liked the cool feel of the fabric against his skin especially after a lot of hours in heavy fire gear. To him, the silk felt like a second skin.

  Sitting on his bed, he pulled out his laptop, signed on again then shut his desktop computer off. He turned on the television and surfed channels, hoping to hear from the one person haunting his every hour but, so far, nothing.

  He watched films of a fire in Delaware County near the Blue Route, the local name for I-476. A dozen departments between first in and cover-up assignments responded to the blaze at a strip mall. He could only imagine how long the crews would be on location.

  "You have mail..."

  His attention immediately distracted to his laptop, he checked the incoming mail before her IM popped up.

  Screensiren: Got med report—thanks.

  HotShot04: Good.

  Screensiren: How are you?

  HotShoto4: Fine.

  Screensiren: Did you go to the Chinatown fire?

  HotShot04: Yes.

  He waited for her to say something—anything—while ruing this part of any relationship he'd ever been involved in. Things usually started off great until the first major fire then it all fell apart.

  HotShot04: Are you all right?

  Screensiren: I'm going to be honest with you. I'm not sure if I can handle the worry over the danger you face.

  HotShot04: How can I help?

  Screensiren: I don't know.

  HotShot04: Then I guess we're over before we start.

  Screensiren: Why?

  HotShot04: I've been this route with every relationship. I'd rather know now before we get into the hurt zone.

  Screensiren: Hurt zone?

  HotShot04: I put everything into a relationship. I've been dumped numerous times for this one reason.

  Screensiren: I'm sorry.

  HotShot04: So am I.

  Reed's clenched fist hit the bed as anger took over. Ming-toi jumped off the bed, giving voice to his discontent.

  "I really thought you'd be different."

  He went to sign off, frustrated with the turn of events. Hell, this is the first time I've lost before getting to...

  Screensiren: Where and when?

  HotShot04: What?

  Screensiren: Where and when? I want to meet you.

  HotShot04: Are you serious?

  Screensiren: Very.

  Reed sat back in shock, looking at the screen. He'd never met a woman who felt like this before.

  Screensiren: Well?

  HotShot04: Do you know the Valley Green Inn?

  Screensiren: Yes.

  HotShot04: Dinner on Saturday.

  Screensiren: Perfect.

  HotShot04: I'll make the reservations.

  Screensiren: How will I know you?

  HotShot04: I've got dark hair, blue eyes and usually wear all black off the job.

  Screensiren: Black is sexy.

  HotShot04: Like you, Sexy Lady?

  Screensiren: Careful, Hot Shot.

  HotShot04: —grin—

  Reed sat back, his mind relieved, his cock hard. He had no idea what she had about her but whatever it was, he needed more and fast.

  Screensiren: What time?

  HotShot04: Eight.

  Screensiren: I'll see you then.

  HotShot04: Good, I'm off shift at four so I shouldn't be late. If I am, can I call you?

  Screensiren: Only if you're going to be late.

  He wrote down her cell phone number and jolted. Heat came off the paper though he couldn't be sure why.

  HotShot04: Got it.

  Screensiren: I'll turn it on at four so please don't try to call before then.

  HotShot04: It will be a daunting task.

  Screensiren: I know. Remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

  HotShot04: And my cock more impatient.

  * * * *

  Chelsea opened the gallery as usual on Friday morning. Her assistant usually came in late on Friday mornings because she closed unless the gallery remained open for a special event.

  A quiet morning, Chelsea used the time to catch up on paperwork she'd let pile up thanks to her latest project. Sitting at her desk, she tried to picture him—dark hair, blue eyes and dressed in black. She gazed at several paintings, picturing him in them. What is it about you?

  She heard a beeping sound coming from the alarm panel and checked it. It read fire alarm. Grabbing her phone, she quickly checked the gallery then rechecked the readout. The display said gallery but so far nothing. She called 9-1-1, informing the dispatcher but the call had already been received from the alarm company.

  "Please leave the building and wait for the responding units,” the dispatcher advised.

  "I will,” Chelsea said. “Thank you."

  She grabbed her wallet and keys, the important papers for the gallery in the safe, and went outside. Immediately, she heard sirens from a fire engine trying to get through traffic. She waited on the sidewalk watching the engine double park in front of her store. A police car pulled up a short distance behind—she guessed for traffic while the officer and firemen investigated.

  "Ma'am, I'm Lieutenant Carrington, you called dispatch?"

  "Yes, I couldn't find anything in the gallery which is where the alarm panel stated the alarm came from."

  "We'll check, Miss..."

  "Chelsea—I own the building."

  "We may have to check upstairs."

  "Of course."

  She watched both responding units enter the gallery to check for what may have tripped the alarm. The lieutenant came outside, removing his helmet as he came out of the door. Dark hair, blue eyes—no way.

  "We can't find anything and I went upstairs also. Call the alarm company to have them check the system."

  "I will, thank you."

  He squeezed her hand, heat coursing through her. What the...

  "Ma'am, I'm Officer Sherwood, Philadelphia Police. Can I get some information for the report?"

  "Yes,” she stammered. “Of course."

  Mechanically, she answered his questions, all the while watching the fire lieutenant.

  "Thank you, Miss Strawbridge."

  "Anytime,” she said. “Can I ask you a question?"

  "Sure."

  "The lieutenant said his name but I've forgotten it. If I need it for the alarm company..."

  "That's Reed Carrington,” Sherwood answered. “Rumor has it he's moving up to captain soon."

  "Interesting,” she said then thanked him.

  Chelsea watched Engine 11 and the other truck leave followed by the patrol car, hints of the heat between her and Carrington remaining. Could it be...

  * * * *

  Reed slid into the officer's seat of Engine 11 after dispatch sent them to a fire alarm at an art gallery on Chestnut Street.

  "Engine 11 responding."

  "Be advised, owner called stating the panel
said location was in the gallery but she could find nothing. Owner will meet you."

  "Affirmative."

  Reed silently cursed. He knew the natural reaction of any owner was to check instead of exiting the building and letting them do their jobs.

  "Engine 11 on location,” he radioed when they arrived at Chelsea's on Chestnut. “I have a four-story building, commercial occupancy first floor—nothing showing. We're investigating."

  "Engine 11."

  Like precision machinery, his crew grabbed tools and got off the engine on the building side of the apparatus then entered the gallery to do a methodical search for what set the alarm off. The responding ladder crew joined them, neither company finding anything. Reed went over to speak with the woman standing on the sidewalk.

  "I'm Lieutenant Carrington,” he said, introducing himself. Auburn hair, exotic blue eyes reminding him of sparkling topazes ... Whoa, professional, Reed...

  He asked her questions for the report, unable to concentrate on anything but her presence. He took her hand as he did everyone's he spoke with and inwardly jolted. Feeling like he'd been shocked by a power cord, he did his best in order to remain professional. Why do I feel like I know her?

  He thanked her, made sure they had all the equipment back on the engine then eased back into the officer's seat.

  "Engine 11 returning."

  Once the engine had been placed back in service for the next call, the guys went about their lives while on duty. Two went into the kitchen while the engineer checked a sound he didn't like. The roar of the engine filled the engine room. Reed went into the office and closed the door, shutting out the noise while he filed the necessary paperwork. With his captain off, he took on those duties as well, Reed getting what he had to do out of the way.

  He went into the washroom, made sure he was alone then washed his face with cold water. Meeting Chelsea had stirred things in him he had no idea how to handle but then again so had his mystery lady. No woman ever had—not even Brandy.

  "Hey, Reed, phone call."

  "Thanks, Dan,” he called back, drying his face and hands. He took the call in the office, once again closing the door so he could hear.