Fiery Nights Read Free Page B

at Vamps. We were dancing to an upbeat
song. Hard Rock Sofa by Quasar. Our eyes were locked on each other’s,
oblivious to the dancing bodies around us.
    As the tempo quickened, the crowd’s energy rose around
us, becoming more and intense, almost frenzied. Our bodies moved closer. Still
we didn’t touch.
    My body was so hot, on fire. Was it from dancing, the
energy of the crowd? Or the rising intensity of how badly I wanted Tristan?
    We moved closer still. Faces mere inches apart. Eyes
still locked. Bodies almost touching.
    Almost.
    The tempo grew faster. To a feverish intensity.
    Closer still. I broke eye contact to look at his lips.
Licked my own.
    God, I wanted to touch him. Kiss those lips.
    The beat was at a peak now. Almost orgasmic.
    I looked back into his eyes and saw pure, unmistakable
lust.
    Touch me, my body screamed silently. Touch me now.
    The crescendo broke. And with it, the crowd lost all
control, their sweaty bodies flailing about to dance freely.
    We followed them. And our bodies moved apart to dance
wantonly. Seductively.
    When the song ended, the DJ spun in a slower one.
    Our eyes met again. Our bodies moved closer again. One
hand reached toward me. I closed my eyes. Then I felt his hand on the small of
my back. Pulling me close. Closer.
    A song began playing over this one. It sounded so
familiar. What was it?
    Oh yeah, it’s Black No. 1 , a great Type O Negative
song.
    I should have recognized it right away—it’s my cell phone
ring.
    Fuck, it is my cell phone.
    Who the hell would call at this ungodly hour?
    “Hel- lo ,” I said, making sure the annoyance was apparent
in my tone.
    Double fuck. It was one of the guys at the firehouse.
    “We’re short-staffed tonight. Figures, on Halloween. Can you
come in for a few hours?”
    “It’s after midnight. Not Halloween anymore.”
    “Yeah, but I knew you’d still be up.”
    I could use the overtime. Pushing my fantasy aside, I sighed
before hopping into a shower of the coldest water I could stand.

Chapter Two
     
    Tristan
    Days had passed. I asked myself the same question
repeatedly: Why did I let her go?
    I ruminated in my lab, running my hands over a marble globe
on an end table. I spun it, letting the cool feel of the marble glide under my
fingers and closed my eyes. Then I stopped it.
    My fingers were in the middle of the Atlantic. Might as well
have been in the middle of nowhere.
    I should have at least asked for her number or a way to
contact her again. Instead, I kept an eye out for her at the club each night,
but she wasn’t there. Why should I entertain false hope that she’d return? I
hadn’t seen her there before since I reopened the place. Not until Halloween
night. And there she appeared to me in that light—a vixen dressed like a
pirate.
    What did she look like in everyday clothes? And would she
ever return?
    Swallowing some pride, I went upstairs.
    “Byron, has your friend returned lately? Maya, is it?” I
said.
    Byron gave me a knowing smile, which he quickly recovered
from. “No, I haven’t seen her since Halloween. And only that one time since the
club reopened.”
    “What can you tell me about her?”
    Byron ran his finger over his chin. “I don’t know her that
well. We just would talk when she’d come in with her friend Nike some nights.
They both helped get people out the night of the fire. I think they work in
some sort of emergency services field or something because they seemed to know
what they were doing. And that was the last time I saw either one of them until
Maya came back.”
    “Interesting,” I said.
    “Why do you ask?”
    “I want to talk to her about something.”
    Byron smiled that smile again, this time not trying to hide
the twinkle in his knowing gaze. “If I see her, I’ll be sure to tell her.”
     
    Maya
    I thought about him all week. Not even the banter with the
guys at the firehouse kept him too far from my mind. Luckily it was a busy
week. I had to teach fire prevention and safety to