Read Third-Degree Burn [Southern Heat 3] Online

Authors: Alexa Aaby

Tags: #Erotica, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Bdsm, #Romantic, #Siren-BookStrand, #Inc., #Romantic Erotica

Third-Degree Burn [Southern Heat 3]

Southern Heat 3

Third-Degree Burn

Kayla Somers, special segment reporter for the Georgia Sentinel, is on track to complete the focal point of her latest news segment by conducting an interview with the men of Firehouse 75. Upon arriving at the station, she bumps heads with Dakota Jennings and his partner, Shane McIntyre.

Drawn to the beautiful Kayla from the first moment they meet, Dakota and Shane decide to take matters into their own hands and teach her a most tantalizing lesson in submission. In doing so, they will unleash a smoldering, sexual desire buried deep within Kayla and find out that she has a few lessons of her own to teach them. The erotic chase that follows is so incredibly hot it is bound to burn out of control until it scorches the very earth beneath the city of Atlanta!

Note: This book contains forced seduction.

Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre

Length:
25,549 words

THIRD-DEGREE BURN

 

Southern Heat 3

 

 

 

 

 

Alexa Aaby

 

 

 

 

 

 

MENAGE AND MORE

 

 

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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THIRD-DEGREE BURN

Copyright © 2014 by Alexa Aaby

E-book ISBN:
978-1-63258-347-5

 

First E-book Publication: September 2014

 

Cover design by Harris Channing

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

 

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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,

 

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Third-Degree Burn
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Table of Contents
THIRD-DEGREE BURN

Southern Heat 3

 

ALEXA AABY

Copyright © 2014

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
One

 

Kayla Somers, special segment reporter for
The Georgia Sentinel,
arrived on time at exactly 9:00 a.m. sharp to conduct the interview she had been trying to arrange for over three months. Firehouse 75 was located in the heart of Atlanta’s burgeoning business district. It was the last remaining focal point of her next three-segment piece on the men and woman in uniform who made it their business to ensure the safety of the public at large.

Hailing from New Jersey, as a newcomer to the area, Kayla was like a kid in a candy store. Possessing a discriminating nose for the news, she was eager to discover all that the popular southern city had to offer. Her timing couldn’t be better. Leaving her old life and a string of failed relationships in The Garden State, she was ready to make a fresh start and put the past behind her.

On that balmy Friday afternoon in September, she walked into the station dressed in an olive-colored, two-piece linen suit and a white cotton-blend blouse. Crossing the floor with authority, she approached a tall, tanned, muscular fireman. He was in the middle of work, carrying two large buckets of water. She immediately noticed his thick dark hair, piercing hazel eyes, and sculptured face.

“Good afternoon, Miss, can I help you?” he asked in a distinct, smooth Southern voice.

“I hope so. I’m Kayla Somers. I’m here to see Chief Neal Stockton. Is he in?”

“Hey, you’re the reporter from the Sentinel. Am I right?”

“Yes, you are,” she answered somewhat sternly. “Can you show me to his office?” she requested.

“You mean will I?” he asked, looking quite serious for a moment before he broke into an incredibly white smile. Two deep dimples formed just below his cheeks. “I’m just kiddin’. Let me sit these buckets down, and I’ll show you upstairs.”

He caught her off guard. Usually being quick on her feet, suddenly Kayla was at a loss for words. In a matter of seconds, the very attractive fireman had rendered her speechless. His attitude seemed brash, a little off-putting but at the same time endearing for some reason. When he approached her again, she prepared herself for round two.

“May I ask your name?” she inquired, pushing her long, dark auburn hair to her back.

He stared intensely into her light-green eyes and at the delicate spray of freckles across her nose. “If you must know, I’m Dakota Jennings, but everybody around here calls me DJ.”

Tapping her right foot against the concrete floor, she said, “Well,
Mr
.
Jennings
, I’m kind of in a hurry. I have an appointment to keep.”

“No offense, but I can tell by the way you talk you’re not from around here,” he commented.

Forcing a pretentious smile onto her lips, she replied, “None taken, I’ve been in Atlanta for about two years. I guess I still carry my Northern Jersey twang. How perceptive of you. Now, if you don’t mind, can you point me in the direction of your chief? Deadlines have to be kept.”

“Deadlines and all, they sure can be a bitch,” Dakota commented with a smirk.

Kayla held her head up high as if her five-foot-seven-inch frame was a match for his six-foot-four-inch, towering physique. “I couldn’t agree with you more. I pride myself on being punctual, so again, if you don’t mind—”

“Follow me,” he said, walking toward the stairs, leading to the second floor landing.

 

* * * *

 

After Dakota escorted Kayla into Chief Stockton’s office, he returned to the main floor of the firehouse. Shane McIntyre, another company fireman with dark blond hair and striking blue eyes, jogged up to him with a wide grin on his face and patted him swiftly across the back.

“Who in the world was that?” Shane asked, standing eye-level to him.

“She’s the news reporter here to get a story on us,” Dakota answered.

Cupping his hands together, Shane commented, “I overheard your conversation with her. She’s hell on wheels, dude. That’s a real piece of work—gorgeous in spite of the fact that she’s probably one of those cosmopolitan, stuck-up snobs.”

“You’ve got that right,” Dakota confirmed. “I could actually feel icicles forming on my dick every time she opened her mouth.”

“She can’t get away with that snooty bullshit. We’ll just have to do something about it. If she’s gonna be here for a week, she’ll need to be taught a little lesson in humility,” Shane said, rubbing his hands together.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should drop it. Let Ms. Prissy go on about her business,” Dakota told him.

“Fuck no,” Shane protested. She just walked up in here and tried to take over like she owns the place. If you ask me, that sweet, little shrew needs to be brought down a couple of notches.”

“Leave her be for now. There’s more than one way to skin a pussy cat,” Dakota said.

Shane nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We should let her relax a bit, settle in before we start ruffling her fur.”

 

* * * *

 

Chief Stockton was a stoic soul with mixed gray-black hair and dark eyes. His uniform was starched and pressed to perfection. Atop his solid oak desk, a picture of Mrs. Stockton and his two adult sons and daughters were displayed. The other silver frame, at the opposite end of the desk, held a picture of his eight grandchildren.

“Ms. Somers, I want to thank you for seeing such potential in doing a story on this station. I’ve got one of the most hardworking crews in the entire state. They’re all committed to ensuring the safety of our wonderful citizens of this town and the countless visitors who pass our way. My crew deserves this opportunity to shine bright.”

Extending a handshake to him, Kayla said, “I’m glad we were able to iron out all of the details for the story in such a short time. You can trust in me, Chief. I plan on producing a sensational piece that will exemplify the hard work, dedication, and sacrifice the men of your amazing team make each and every day.”

“You’ve already met one of my finest firemen, Dakota Jennings. We call him DJ,” the chief proudly stated.

“He mentioned that to me.” Kayla furrowed her forehead a bit. “I don’t know if I would agree with you when it comes to that one. Frankly, he seemed quite full of himself, somewhat arrogant during our first encounter.”

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