Burnin' Up Memphis: Firehouse 69, Book 1 Read Online Free

toward a cart where he flipped up a cover on a tray.
    There stood three tall candles in glass jars, like prayer candles, which Anton lit and set aside. Then he picked up a paddle and flipped it from one side to the other. One side was padded with red furry fabric, the other waffled and wooden.
    As Anton approached the woman, he hid the paddle behind his back. When he stood beside her, he used his left hand to pat one side of her bottom. “Sweet slut, I’ve promised you something special tonight, but only if you’re very, very good. Do you need to know what your reward will be?”
    She shook her head and blonde hair slid over her shoulders. “No, Sir,” she said in a small, slightly high-pitched voice. “I trust you to determine what reward I’ve earned.”
    He moved his hand over to her other cheek. “I’m going to warm your pretty ass, slut. Then I’m going to make it burn.”
    Coop jerked at the term slut, and this time, he did cringe inside, but he couldn’t quite manage to drag his gaze from the scene unfolding in front of him. He wasn’t alone. More were gathering around them, crowding him and Moira, who was snuggled next to his arm now. Her heat burned his skin.
    Anton withdrew his hand and, without another word of warning, quickly brought the fur side of the paddle down across Britney’s buttocks.
    The woman gave a muffled gasp, but otherwise gave no other reaction.
    Anton’s gaze narrowed, and he delivered several more blows, directed to different areas—buttocks, upper thighs, a lighter swat directly over her now-reddened and glistening pussy.
    The woman was clearly aroused. Her pussy was engorged and wet. Her breaths were ragged, and she moaned lightly.
    Coop had given girlfriends friendly, fun spankings, but never anything this targeted and deliberate. And while he’d found those paddlings arousing, they hadn’t riveted him like this purposeful punishment did.
    When Anton flipped the paddle and delivered a sharper slap to Britney’s ass with the waffled side, Coop forgot to breathe. The woman jerked and moved her buttocks side-to-side to evade the harsher blows that landed in rapid succession, but again, she made no complaints. Her skin became deeply flushed and fluid trickled down her inner thighs. When Anton paused his strokes to trail his fingers through her soaked folds, Britney whimpered.
    “Such a dirty slut,” Anton said, his soft, approving tone at odds with his harsh words. “Such a pretty, slick pussy.” He flattened his hand and gave her pussy a slap.
    The crowd around Coop was so quiet the wet slap felt more intimate, felt closer—as though he were standing next to Anton. Suddenly, he wished he was. Coop sucked in a deep breath at the realization.
    Anton strode back to the cart, placed the paddle on the cover and wheeled the cart closer.
    Flames had melted the uppermost inches of wax atop the glass-enclosed candles. There was a red, a blue and a green candle. And Coop knew exactly what Anton intended before he reached for the red candle. He was going to make Britney burn.
    Coop drew in a swift breath and his body tightened.
    Moira tugged Coop’s sleeve, and he leaned down, giving her his ear.
    “The level of heat depends on how high he holds the candle,” she whispered. “He won’t cause her any more pain than what she wants. He won’t really hurt her.”
    Coop nodded, although now that Moira had drawn his attention again, he stayed bent toward her, aware of her shortened breaths as he’d never been before with another woman. Moira appeared enraptured by Anton’s sensual torture, something that made Coop’s body tighten even more and his heart race. Her growing arousal seemed to tug his right along.
    The first drops of hot wax fell over the highest curve of Britney’s ass, and she cried out and jerked upward, pulling against her restraints. However, Anton ignored her distress and continued to drip wax, coating her fleshy buttocks with a thin dripping curtain that followed