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

the curve of her lush bottom, and then dripped it down the backs of her thighs.
    He put down the red candle and picked up the blue. This time, he reduced the height, but the blue wax fell on the hardened red wax, not stinging the skin but keeping the wax in the first layer warm. He coated both buttocks and then dripped wax into the hollow at the small of her back, making Britney hiss and moan. Her bottom eased eagerly side-to-side. Red and blue mixed into fiery purple that framed either side of her bright-pink, engorged pussy.
    When Anton picked up the green, Coop grew still. Something in Anton’s expression, the narrowing of his eyes, the deepening curve of his mouth, alerted the watchers he was about to push his submissive harder.
    He dripped the wax over the center of her buttocks, letting it drip slowly down her crack. Her hiss was harsh and instant. The tightening of her asshole was visible. For a moment, the wax puddled there and then ran down again. Another drop trickled between her slick folds that were so wet the wax slid to the platform between her spread knees.
    Britney sobbed; her shoulders shook. Still, Coop wasn’t moved to make a sound to intervene. He stood rigid, anticipation gripping his entire body. Her thighs shivered, but her ass began to move in tiny pulses up and down and then tilted upward to capture the next thin stream of wax that trickled down her crack. This time, the wax followed the curve of one side of her labia.
    “ Ah ,” Britney sighed. “Oh God, Anton…Anton.”
    Anton tilted the candle upward, cutting the wax. “What did you say?”
    Britney’s response was a groan and then a slurred, “Sir, I spoke out of turn.”
    “Yes, you did, sweetheart.” He tipped the candle and gave her more of what she obviously craved, coating her sex. Moments later, Anton gave her leg a pat, a signal, because in the next breath Britney came, keening loudly.
    Shock at the fact she’d come without being rubbed or fucked, but from the painful heat, shivered through Coop. At her final cry, he blinked. He was brought back to where he was and the fact the woman beside him with her catlike features was pursing her lips to hide a smile. He cleared his throat and glanced around, looking for another avenue of escape, but the crowd was dissipating too slowly. “That was interesting,” he muttered, but quickly added, “But this isn’t for me.” God, he was a fucking liar.
    The corners of her mouth fell a fraction. “How disappointing,” she murmured—so softly he almost didn’t hear her. “Like I said before, it’s not for everyone.”
    Coop’s gaze went to the stage again. Anton was gone. A man wearing a leather thong was peeling away sections of hardened wax from Britney’s pink buttocks. “I don’t understand why she would put herself in that position.”
    “What? Bent over a bench with her ass pointing toward a crowd of strangers?”
    “Well, yeah.”
    “Anton’s been working with her, obviously, earning her trust. It’s not like he hasn’t been building her up to this moment.”
    There was a hint of bitterness in her voice. But Coop was overfilled with emotions and didn’t want to think about why the beautiful woman beside him seemed upset, although she was fighting hard to hide it. “But for what purpose? Why does she need to be built up to do something like this?”
    Moira’s mouth twitched. “You’re not going to understand. But some subs need to be pushed—beyond pain, beyond humiliation—to find something raw and primitive and real. It’s not just about pleasure or sex. It’s about what they are at their core.”
    Coop had to fight curving his hands into fists. “You’re right. I don’t understand, but I can see what Anton gets out of it.”
    “Do you really?” She shook her head, her expression doubtful.
    His response had disappointed her again, he could tell because her mouth was straightening into a narrower line. He waved a hand toward the stage, anything to get