Series: Fever Falls Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Jace’s forehead scrunched up as he eyed me skeptically. “I’m pretty confident that’s not anything like something that would happen in a Bridget Jones’s Diary movie.”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t watch those. Do you?”
“I’ve seen…all three.”
“Oh, more surprises from Jace Kruse. You like romantic comedies?”
“I love romantic comedies.”
“Okay, so Hottie Firefighter with a Shar-Pei, and he can also make fried chicken, loves rom-coms, and isn’t already married and saddled down with a nice woman and three kids?”
“I just got that Shar-Pei, thank you very much, but no, that’s not something I’ve ever been interested in. Not my style. I like keeping my options open. And with the hours I work, it’s always been easier to have fun and leave it at that. I have my friends, and that’s enough for me.”
“See, I knew I liked you. Same here, minus being able to cook and the Shar-Pei, so it’s just me, my job and being awesome at it, and I do love being awesome at that, and the freedom to have all the fun I want and that my body demands.”
“All the fun that my body demands. Yes, I very much enjoy being able to live my life that way.” Jace grinned as I checked out his crotch, which was getting hard again.
“Well, I’d hate to leave your body hanging,” I said, sliding down and getting on my knees. “I say one more BJ before we call it a night.”
“Fine by me.” He’d hardly spoken the words before I had that cock in my mouth, and he relaxed on his back as I started working him up all over again.
I sucked him off good, letting him shoot on his abs again, enjoying the show before it was time for me to Uber back to my hotel.
* * *
“Work…that’s right,” Quincy, the photographer, called to Jace as he stood before the pumper in the lot behind the fire station.
Bare-chested, abs tense, sun glistening off his oil-soaked bod, Jace wore boots and his uniform pants as he posed for the camera. He apparently knew his body well enough to stand in the most flattering positions for his physique. Or perhaps it was simply that there weren’t any unflattering angles for Jace Kruse, particularly when lit with natural sunlight and a couple of reflectors on C-stands.
His buddies Zed and Joshua, also in just pants and boots, flanked him on either side. Judging by how much they cracked jokes between the more serious expressions they offered for Quincy, it was clear they were enjoying being models for a day. They agreed to pose with him for a few faux-casual poses, because Lord knew the fire station would only be filled with hot, shirtless firefighters like those in a Sean Cody porn.
It was one of the shoots I’d set up around the station for the day. We were fortunate that with Jace’s connections, it was nearly effortless to get locations around town. I had to practically strong-arm a few of the venues to take our money since they wanted to help their buddy out. That was a first, something I wouldn’t have seen happening much in LA.
I made my way through the lot, passing Quincy’s PAs as I FaceTimed with Hacksmore, showing him a preview of the work.
“Yes, this looks perfect!” Hacksmore said from the spa he was at in Tokyo as he received a massage. “I’m more than content with the publicity we’ve had so far, so all this is just going to be icing on the cake until our first billboard and commercial launch. Where’s Elliott?”
“He’s getting our next location ready for us.”
I slouched in a chair beside Carter, who was chilling in a chaise lounge, keying away on his iPad.
“Keep up the great work, guys,” Hacksmore said.
“I’ll send you a Dropbox of the images we single out and the full shoot for your perusal.”
“Excited to see everything. Get me some amazing ammo so we can clear this one out of the ballpark.”
“Don’t think we’re going to have any issues with that,” I said, full of confidence, not so much arrogant in my own abilities as much as sure of the magic that was our Hottie Firefighter.
I wrapped up my conversation with Hacksmore, and we ended our FaceTime session as I enjoyed the view from my chair. Carter continued scrolling away on his iPad beside me.
“Slacking on the job?” I teased.
“I’m reviewing the questions and prompts we discussed for Tandy, the videographer, whose name you probably didn’t even remember when you called her earlier…”
Too true.
“…and that’s only after confirming with the other locations we’ll be at later, leaving a shit review for the no-show makeup artist, placing our Asian fusion order to be delivered to Fever Pitch, and replacing the photographer’s music selection with my MP3 player because I can only handle hearing Britney’s ‘Work Bitch’ three times before I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”