Bad Boy's Lust (Firemen in Love Book 1)

BOOK: Bad Boy's Lust (Firemen in Love Book 1)
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Bad Boy's Lust

Firemen in Love Book 1

 

Amy Starling

 

Elle

 

Giving my virginity to this sexy playboy firefighter? Worst idea
ever.

Marrying him to save my business? That's the
second
worst idea.

It was a simple plan: fake a marriage between friends to satisfy my aunt's will. Temporary. No strings attached.

Simple – until his hands warmed my body and I tasted his sweet kiss. He promised the best night of my life, and he
definitely
delivered.

Now I'm falling for a man who doesn't believe in love. He wants me back in his bed. I know better.

But I can't resist his touch for long...

 

Jayce

 

Marriage is for suckers; that's what I always say. Too bad I gotta find myself a wife fast, or I can kiss my inheritance goodbye.

Elle is perfect for the job. We're friends. She knows I'd never settle down with one woman for
real.

There's just one problem: the moment I get her naked, everything changes. It's her I want in my arms, moaning my name, every night.

She thinks I'm bad news, but that won't stop me.

I'll do whatever it takes to make her
mine.

 

This is Book 1 of the Firemen in Love series with HEA, no cheating, no cliffhangers. Contains explicit language and very spicy love scenes!

 

Chapter 1 - Elle

 

“That man in five-oh-one is havin' sex too loud. I'm sick and tired of hearing all that moaning and groaning through the walls!”

A lit cigarette wiggled between the woman's cracked lips. I stared at the big “No Smoking Allowed” sign on the wall behind her. She didn't get the hint.

But her blatant disregard for the building's rules wasn't my biggest problem right now.

Jayce
was the problem today. Just like yesterday, and the day before that. Was he ever going to grow up?

“Um... I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs. Jackson. I'll be sure to remind him of the apartment's noise ordinance.”

She gritted her yellowed teeth. “It's completely inappropriate, that's what it is. There are families living here. Children! Their innocent eyes shouldn't see such lewd, disgusting filth.”

Jayce had always been a major playboy with an inability to keep his dick in his pants where it belonged. I'd known him since we were kids. Thought he'd grow out of it by now.

Apparently, that was too much to hope for. Shady Acres was
totally
screwed.

“Girls coming and going out of his apartment at all hours.” She grunted and puffed smoke from her nostrils. “And the obscenities flying from his mouth! All those f-words and p-words... I'm a good Christian woman, Elle.”

I didn't ask her which “p-words” she meant.

Mrs. Jackson fumbled with the gold cross draped around her neck. “I pray for that boy every night. Askin' God to change his lustful ways.” Her stare fixed on me. “But sometimes God needs a helping hand, if you get my meaning.”

Jayce, I'm going to strangle you for this!

I put on the most cheerful smile possible given the cloud of smoky miasma that burned my eyes and lungs.

“I'll have a word with him right away.”

“See that you do.” She turned to leave. “Back when your aunt was running things, Shady Acres used to be a fine place to live.”

Yeah, Debbie was amazing. Everyone knew that. But she was gone now, and this place was mine.

Mine and Jayce's, too. I had no idea what she was thinking, putting that little tidbit in the will.

I bequeath ownership of Shady Acres Apartments equally to my niece, Elizabeth Gardener, and Jayce Reinhard, who was always like a son to me.

I sat there in shock as the attorney read those words. Of course, I was happy to take control of the building; I'd always wanted to own commercial property. But why Jayce? He was totally irresponsible. He'd be nothing but a burden, weighing me down.

Debbie's daughter, Heather, burst through the office door with panic-filled eyes. She waved a thick stack of papers and plunked it on my desk.

“Work orders. Unit 112 has a busted window. 329 says their garbage disposal stopped working. 217 needs a leaky sink fixed.”

I leafed through the papers. Maybe I should have sold the building off after all. Too bad Jayce wanted to keep it, and if the two of us didn't agree on a matter, then no deal.

Jayce and I didn't agree on
anything.

“Where's Stan? Shouldn't he be taking care of this stuff? I thought he was the maintenance man.”

“Stan quit last night.”


What?

“Said he couldn't live with the cut in pay. I don't blame him.” She shrugged. “I've already put out a help-wanted ad.”

My heart pounded. So much responsibility, so much to do. I hadn't expected it to be this way. I'd only been in charge of this place for a few months, and already, my anxiety was so high that I could hardly sleep at night.

Meanwhile, Jayce screwed around like an overgrown child.

“Get your brother to help out. He's a man; he should be able to handle a busted faucet.”

“He is
not
my brother. And I've already told him, okay? He's got a list of things that need doing around here.”

“So why isn't he doing them?”

She rolled her eyes. “He said 'I spend all day fighting fires and saving lives. I'm not coming home to play janitor, too.'”

I shoved the stack of work orders into a drawer with the others. They were a stark reminder that this building was falling apart fast. It'd been built in the 1960s, so that was to be expected, but... Debbie didn't leave me much to work with when she passed.

Heather gestured to the cloud of smoke still hanging above our heads. I flicked on the fan and turned it to high. Hopefully, that would blow the stench out the window before a new potential resident came in.

Who was I fooling? There hadn't been one of those this whole past month.

“I wish
you'd
taken half the building instead of Jayce.”

“No way. I told mom I couldn't handle it.” She grabbed a can of air freshener and sprayed the mist toward the ceiling. Didn't help. Now it smelled like lemon-scented cigarette smoke. “I'm still in college. Working part-time as a receptionist here is good enough for me.”

“But then why
him?
She knew what he was like. If you ask me, she made a major mistake.”

And that wasn't the only mistake she made. We had less than five months left to raise occupancy to at least 80 percent. If we couldn't, ownership reverted to David Reinhard.

Yep, Jayce's greedy, money-grubbing father. The man was all too eager to see us fail.

“Mom always was a bit crazy.” Heather laughed. “But she was smart. She had real business savvy. She wouldn't make a decision without a very good reason behind it.”

She teared up, and I threw my arms around her. God, this poor girl. She'd only lost her mother a short while ago. Why did I have to mention her now? It was my fault she cried all over again.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I'm okay.” She offered me a forced smile. “Anyway, point is, she split ownership between the two of you because she
wanted
to. It wasn't a choice she made lightly.”

“What about Jayce? Did he want this?”

“We never really talked about it. We don't talk about much.” She broke free of my hug. “You know I don't quite approve of his lifestyle.”

The phone rang, and Heather snatched it up before the first ring ended. Someone interested in renting, maybe?

“Oh, he did?” Her smile faded. “Of course, Mr. Beckham. Yes, our residents are required to pick up their dog's waste. I'll be sure to remind him...”

Heather had a lot on her plate. She was more than a simple receptionist, and she deserved to get paid extra for all she did here.

I couldn't bear to tell her that if business didn't pick up fast, she'd soon be getting paid even less.

She had the front desk covered, so I waved to let her know I was leaving. She nodded and continued her conversation with Mr. Beckham, who was now yelling that he'd stepped in dog crap with his expensive leather shoes and
someone
was going to have to pay for it.

I rode the elevator to the top, floor five. On the way up, I rehearsed what I'd say to Jayce. Should I call him a lazy, selfish jerk? Should I even bother trying to stay calm? Just thinking of what a slacker he was made my blood boil.

The elevator doors slid open – and there he stood.

Whatever speech I'd been planning, I forgot it instantly.

Jayce grinned, and my stomach did flips. How could I help it? The man was undeniably hot as hell. Pure muscle, dark tattoos that ran the length of his arms, and those smoky hazel eyes that promised he was gonna be trouble.

The
fun
kind of trouble.

“Elle. Just the lady I wanted to see.”

I stepped off the elevator with a hearty sigh. He'd been on his way down, but now that I was here, he led me in the direction of his apartment.

“You wanted to see me? I very much doubt that.”

He slung his arm around me. I wished he didn't.

It wasn't that I didn't like it – no, I liked it
too
much. His skin was so warm, and it felt good to be cradled in the crook of his elbow. Comforting. Safe, almost.

Yeah, right. Jayce was many things, but “safe” wasn't one of them.

“What man wouldn't want a minute alone with you?” He paused in front of a window and looked me up and down. “You're beautiful. Hard-working. Smart. Maybe a bit too serious, but still.”

“Jayce!” I shoved him backward and enjoyed touching his hard chest
way
more than I should've. “You screwed something up, didn't you? What did you do this time?”

He feigned being insulted. “Why can't you ever take a compliment, Pink?”

“Don't call me that. I'm not a little girl anymore.”

“Nope.” He winked. “You're not. You have turned into
quite
a woman.”

I folded my arms and glared at him. He didn't notice my annoyance or didn't care.

“You're in trouble.”

He laughed as he unlocked his apartment and let me inside. “I'm always in trouble. C'mon in, Elle. Have a seat. Relax.”

My hands curled into fists at his suggestion to “relax.” Who the hell had time to do that? I'd woken this morning at four. Got down to the office by five. Then came nonstop phone calls, emails to answer, people lodging complaints about more crap breaking, why their rent was being raised, why I couldn't make the guy upstairs stop playing his salsa music all night long...

Jayce dug through his fridge, muttering to himself for a moment before tossing me a frosty can.

“This is beer.”

He popped open one for himself and took a long swig. “Yep.”

“It's not even noon.”

“Didn't know we had rules against drinking before dark.” He tossed his already-empty can in the recycling bin. “You got a rule for everything, don't you, Pink?”

I ignored his stupid nickname for me and set my unopened can on the glass coffee table. No wonder he never got any work done around here. How could he, lounging around all day, drinking, and doing whatever it was he did with his revolving harem of girlfriends?

I tried really hard not to think about that last part.

He plopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the table, then patted the cushion next to him, inviting me to sit. I did so, knowing before my butt hit the seat that it was a mistake.

“So what am I in trouble for? Must be something pretty big. It's not often you come to visit me.”

“This isn't a 'visit.' It's serious.” I tensed, not quite sure how to put this. “I just got a complaint from Mrs. Jackson. About you.”

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