Forever in Fire: A Hot in Chicago Christmas Short

  Forever In Fire

  A Hot in Chicago Christmas Short

  Kate Meader

  Kate Meader Books

  This short story is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Kate Meader

  Cover copyright © 2017 by Kate Meader

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  A Quick Note …

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Also by Kate Meader

  A Quick Note …

  Once upon a Christmas, I posted this short story in five installments to my Facebook readers' group, Kate's Kittens, to give them a little taste of the Dempseys over the holidays. The story focuses on Eli and Alexandra, but everyone gets a look in, especially Gage, who would never let anything be written without trying to nab some of the spotlight for himself!

  This extended epilogue contains spoilers for the entire Hot in Chicago series, so it’s best enjoyed after you’ve read the rest of those books and with a glass of wine.

  xoxo

  Kate

  1

  Twas three nights before Christmas, when all thro’ the house

  Not a creature was stirring…

  Except for a very confused mutt with his head cocked at the vision laid out on the hearth rug.

  Alex returned Shadow’s look with a head tilt of her own. “What’s wrong, puppy? You’ve never seen a wrapped present before?”

  While she had no problem lugging thirty pounds of hose over her shoulder for her job, Alex hadn’t quite reckoned on how heavy the string of LED lights would feel draped over her naked-but-for-a-red-string-thong body. And while the fire roared, heating her ass a deep shade of pink, the front of her body—the part facing toward the door Eli should be walking through any moment now—was actually rather chilly.

  Taking advantage of her very stiff nipples, she re-positioned a couple of light bulbs so they were nip-propped. A girl’s gotta use all her tools! Carefully, so as not to displace the lovingly-adorned chain of lights, she reached for the small control box. Should she go with perma-bright, ghostly fade, or a more spirited blink? She tested each setting, watching for Shadow’s reaction.

  He gave a muffled woof at the setting corresponding to need-a-seizure-tonight? She was finally ready.

  Now where was her man?

  The last couple of weeks had been nuts with the usual holiday asswhackery, working at Engine 6 (where she had just made squad—fuck yeah!), Dempsey’s bar (popular as ever), and planning Gage and Brady’s wedding. Trust fucking Gage to want to get married on Christmas Eve as if everyone wasn’t busy enough already. Granted, the Dempseys were a bunch of drama queens but her baby brother took the éclair, cookie, and crème brulee when it came to outdoing the rest of them in the “look at me!” stakes. Adding to the crazy, Eli was working his hot ass off now that his law practice was going full throttle.

  Which meant that Brand Elex had suffered. During the last month, they'd resembled ships passing through the kitchen with coffee handoffs like hostage exchanges at the Berlin Wall. She missed him. He missed her. In that spirit, he’d promised to make it home by eight and she had swapped a shift at the bar with Beck.

  Tonight they would find time for them.

  Meanwhile, the dancing lights were making her eyelids spasm. Eli, my love, now would be a fabulous time for you to appear…

  Shadow’s ears twitched and he shot up like he’d taken a hit of adrenaline. Daddy’s home…

  Daddy. Alex swallowed, suddenly nervous. She’d been pushing a very specific worry to her brain’s attic in the midst of everything else that was going on. Somehow, she suspected gift-wrapping a pee-stick wouldn’t have quite the same impact as a sexy firefighter dressed like the Christmas tree in Daley Plaza.

  Relationship charging first, life-changing news later.

  She heard the front door open. So did Shadow, who raced out the ajar living room door to slobber all over the master of the house. Out in the hallway, Eli must have hunkered down, rubbing behind his best friend’s ears. His low, soothing murmur sent heat pooling in her belly. She had no idea what he was saying, but she knew that deep voice whispered in her ear as he took her was what she needed right now. Those surprisingly rough hands all over her body would center her because no one grounded her the way Eli did.

  The sound of movement outside the door grabbed her attention. Showtime! She shifted her thighs so they looked about .05% thinner, arched her back for maximum boob thrust (my nipples are blinking! not weird at all!), and tried to look coquettish.

  Damn, one more thing. Mood music. “Alexa, play Baby It’s Cold Outside by Michael Buble,” she instructed the Amazon Echo on the sofa end table.

  The voice-activated bane of her existence responded with, “Playing Big Balls by AC/DC.”

  Gah, that piece of junk was useless, getting songs wrong more often than not, and invariably confused every time Eli said “Alexandra”—as he so often did.

  “Alexa, stop. Play Baby It’s Cold—”

  The door opened. “Honey, are you here?”

  Yes, baby, I most certainly am.

  Eli’s gorgeous blue eyes went wide-eyed in shock. Fine. Understandable, even. He’d need a few seconds to morph those peepers into desire mode.

  “I've got big balls, I've got big balls…”

  “Merry Christmas, Eli,” she said in her best Marilyn Monroe, though it was tougher than you’d think to compete with AC/DC’s ode to testicles.

  “And they're such big balls. Dirty big balls…”

  For the love of Chris Hemsworth. “Alexa, stop!” The room went silent.

  Eli opened his mouth to respond—to be honest, it was more of an involuntary jaw drop—but her eyes were already moving away, drawn by a movement behind him.

  Not Shadow.

  Oh. Fuck.

  Her brother Wy blinked once. Twice. Swore under his breath. Then swore louder because that wasn’t enough to express exactly what he was feeling. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a step back. But that resulted in a crash against the hallway wall, knocking a framed photo of Eli’s grandparents off. The discordant sounds shocked his eyes open.

  Eyes-open was clearly not what Wy wanted at this moment.

  “For fuck’s sake, Alex,” he grated as he finally figured out that a full 180 pivot was the only thing that would stem the horror filling his eyeballs.

  “Wy, what the hell?” Alex shot for the nearest armchair and grabbed a cushion to place it over… where to start? She went with her tits because at least she had a skimpy triangle of fabric covering the other part of her body she didn’t want her oldest brother to have seared on his eyeballs. “You could have told me you were bringing him back with you!”

  “If I’d known…” Eli trailed off and whoomp, there it is! those ice-pick blues darkened with a heady mix of mischief and lust.

  “I came to pick up a case of freakin’ scotch for the wedding,” Wyatt called out in a tone that said he would never be able to look Alex in the eye again. Perfect. The rest of their lives would be spent with gazes fixed at some point over each
other’s shoulders.

  “It’s in the den,” Eli said in a strained voice, without turning around. “Let yourself out.” He closed the door behind him, then opened it again a few inches. “Shadow, you’re far too young and innocent to witness what’s coming next.”

  “Jesus,” Wy muttered again, clearly not enjoying that preview of coming attractions.

  Shadow trudged to the door, lifted sad eyes to Eli, then realizing his master would not be swayed, slipped out to the hallway. Alex would make it up to him later.

  “Sorry about that,” Eli said, sounding more amused than apologetic as he shrugged off his suit jacket to reveal a French blue shirt pulled taut over strapping shoulders and hard pectorals. But as always, it was the suspenders that punched her right in the feels.

  Where feels meant places south.

  He hitched one corner of his gorgeous, wicked mouth ever so slightly. “Looks like Christmas at Dempsey-Cooper Manor has come early.”

  2

  Eli walked over to the sideboard, acutely aware that Alexandra was about to—

  “For fuck’s sake, Eli!”

  Explode.

  Predictable in some ways, but in more ways, not. This woman kept him honest, that was for sure.

  “I said tonight was supposed to be for us so why the hell is my brother crashing the party and making this weird?”

  Hiding his smile, Eli poured two fingers of Glenlivet into a lowball glass. “I’d venture to say you’re the one that made that one weird, honey.”

  A sound of supreme frustration emerged from her throat. “Hell, Eli. I’m buck naked, too hot on my ass side, too cold on my tits side, lit up like Wrigley Field after the Cubbies won the World Series. My brother just saw me in the buff and I’m going to have to avoid him for the rest of our living days. I’m pretty sure we need to sign the dog up for therapy. And to cap the crapfest, my fiance can’t even look at me because what I thought was going to be super sexy is about as erotic as a slug frozen in Carbonite.”

  Oh, this was going to be good. He turned and raised his glass. “Need a drink?”

  A shadow crossed her face and she shook her head.

  He walked the short distance to the sofa and took a seat, adjusting his considerable erection. Why bother… Hiding his desire for her was pointless. That was the buttoned-up mayoral version, the man in political and emotional shackles. The person he was before Alexandra Dempsey crashed into his world and sliced him open.

  How lonely that man had been.

  “Alexa,” he called out to the Amazon whatsit. “Play Baby It’s Cold Outside by Tony Bennett.” He’d always preferred the classic crooners to those upstarts like Connick or Buble.

  He settled back and spread his thighs, watching his woman framed by the firelight, her gilded skin flickering with the holiday lights criss-crossing her body like Shibari bondage ties.

  Blinkety-blink. Blinkety-blink. Santa does BDSM.

  “Playing Baby It’s Cold Outside by—” The last words were cut off by Alexandra’s exclamation of disgust.

  “Fucking bitch hates me.”

  He laughed because it was true. The gizmo never responded to her commands. “Women have always enjoyed following my orders, honey.”

  She heaved a deep breath that pushed her breasts—her perfect, tear-drop shaped breasts—out, along with the lights. Blinkety-blink. Still annoyed, she muttered, “I should leave you two alone then, seeing as how you get along so well.”

  “Don’t be jealous, now. She can’t give me what I need.”

  “What do you need, Eli?”

  Where to begin. “Come here.”

  She gave a good impression of mutiny, but Eli knew her impressions like the head of his dick.

  “Eli—”

  “I’m looking at you now.”

  “What?” She sounded breathless. Still irritated, but also excited.

  “You said I couldn’t even look at you. That this was about as erotic as a—what was it?”

  “A slug in Carbonite.”

  “Right.” He let his gaze take inventory. Crazy hair, rounded shoulders, suckable tits, gorgeous hips. She sat, perfect ass on perfect thighs, a paltry red scrap of lace the only thing separating him from paradise.

  “Come here, so I can look my fill and unwrap my gift.”

  Her breath hitched and she placed her palms on the rug in front of her. On all fours, she crawled toward him, her breasts dipped, her ass angled high, until she reached him. She sat up, and waited while he unfurled the chain of lights. Slowly, all while her breathing picked up. Freed of her decorative burden, she palmed his thighs—and moved toward where he needed her hands how.

  “Has the view improved?” she asked in a voice that trembled.

  He placed a finger under her chin. “The view, my Alexandra, takes my breath away.” And then he kissed her so he could breathe again because the hours he spent away from her were a poor imitation of living. Her taste filled his mouth, his lungs, his blood. Her kiss charged his heart and primed his cock.

  While his mouth slanted over hers, she fumbled with his zipper and released him. All day, he’d suffered in an unbearable state of arousal and now he needed nothing more than her mouth wrapped around him tight. Sucking him deep. Driving him insane. But he wanted to please her first. Soothe her into a frenzy of longing.

  Of honesty.

  “Alexandra, let me touch you.”

  She glided her thumb over the head of his cock and he threw his head back. It was the slightest stroke and he was already losing his shit.

  “Honey, please—”

  On a low, sexy chuckle, she flicked her tongue out in a tease, and it was like he’d never been licked before. Every moment with her felt new.

  She moaned, low in her throat. “I love how you taste, baby.”

  He watched as her lips enclosed him, all that hot, wet heat delivered with the perfect amount of suction. His greed, his selfish need to be sated crushed every jumbled thought—every thought but one.

  As amazing as her mouth was, nothing could compete with the feel of her pussy squeezing him to oblivion.

  “Alexandra.”

  She took him deeper, her heightening moans telling him how much she loved it. Christ, he would not last.

  “Honey, I—” He gentled her back. “Up. Now.”

  Immediately she obeyed. This woman fought him everywhere but where it mattered most. She raised her chin, her eyes glittering with her power over him.

  Smoothly, she straddled him, following his unspoken order.

  With shaky hands he coasted over her curves, noting the silky border that wrapped her hips like string on a parcel. “You like these panties, honey?”

  “Sure—”

  Riiipppp.

  She rolled lust-dazed eyes. “Your dime, Eli.” Sure, he paid the bill at Cachette, the exclusive lingerie store, and he was happy to do it. Without further preamble, she reached down and parted her body to accept him inside her. It wasn’t as if they’d gone weeks without, but the last few times had been tired joinings, a need to maintain the connection before they drifted too far apart. Life had gotten in the way.

  But this… oh, this.

  “I’ve missed you, Alexandra.” Cupping her ass, he slipped his fingers down the cleft of her ass so he could control that up-down slide. Her body undulated as she gripped the back of the sofa for leverage.

  “I’ve missed how you wreck me,” he grated.

  Something flickered in her eyes, something knowing and wise. From the moment he met her in Brady’s restaurant eighteen months ago, his obsession with her had only grown. It should have tempered with the banality of every day living, with learning all her secrets, but each hour he craved her more.

  “I don’t think I’m going to last, Alexandra.”

  “That’s okay. Sexual stamina is usually the first thing to go in a man of your advanced years.”

  She teased, but on occasion he found himself overthinking their age difference of nine years. He was impatient t
o start their life together, make up for missed time, but Alexandra was still relatively young—just twenty seven—and she wasn’t in quite the same hurry.

  Except for now. Any plans for a slow seduction were quickly falling apart in the face of their need for each other. She moved faster, faster, fast—fuck, baby, I can’t, I’m gonna—and he reached between them to press her clit. Just one light brush and she screamed. The squeeze and flutter of her body in a vise around his triggered his much-needed release.

  Every time. Every time she shattered him and put him back together again.

  Her skin shone with a sheen of exertion, her breasts rose and fell as she panted back to a regular rhythm.

  “Still mad, honey?”

  “Furious,” she deadpanned, and in it he heard, not fury, but a smidgen of unease. He stroked the side of her breast with his knuckles, debating whether this might be a good time to speak up. Orgasmic afterglows often lent themselves to soul-baring and it was really time they figured this out.

  But first, a little music.

  “Alexa,” he called out, then named a song. As the iconic opening riff filled the room, his fiancée tilted her head, a puzzled look overtaking her expression.

  “Not very Christmassy.”

  “No, but perfect for what’s next on the night’s agenda.” He moved his hands over her hips then centered them in a V over her abdomen, just as Axl Rose hit the chorus.

  “Oh, oh, oh, sweet child o’ mine.”

  “We need to talk, Alexandra.”

  3

  Alex walked back into the living room, now dressed in sweats and a hoodie, and nowhere near ready for one of the most important conversations of her life. After Eli had dropped his bombshell, complete with a musical cue just in case she wasn’t already hip enough to how smart he was, she’d left to cover up and compose herself.