Bad Boy's Touch (Firemen in Love Book 3)

Bad Boy's Touch: Firemen in Love Book Three

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Madison

Good cops don't sleep with bad boys – so why do I keep getting naked with Brett Silver?

I tried to arrest him. He
kissed
me.

He's a smoking-hot firefighter who's nothing but trouble. When a serial arsonist strikes the city and my world falls apart, though, Brett's the only one I can trust. I swore not to fall in love with him.

Too late.

Brett

I'm no stranger to running from the police. Then Madison slaps the cuffs on, and stripping off her uniform's all I wanna do.

She says we're wrong for each other. She's looking for love. I'm a playboy who can't commit. But soon as I get her in my arms, she's the only woman on my mind.

I'm done with one-night stands. I want her to be mine
forever.

Previously in this series:

Bad Boy's Lust: Firemen in Love Book One

Bad Boy's Kiss: Firemen in Love Book Two

Chapter 1 - Brett

My fist connected with Rico's jaw. Blood sprayed from his split lip, painting the pavement with crimson drops.

His dark eyes met mine. He cursed under his breath and spit out a tooth.

I held my stance, guarding my chest, hands blocking my face. Gotta keep moving. Keep shuffling those feet. Don't give him an opening.

“You fight dirty,
pendejo
.”

We'd attracted a lot of attention. A dozen guys surrounded us in this dark, dirty alley, shouting and waving wads of cash.

If they were smart, they'd place their bets on me.

Rico shook off the blow and put his arms up. All that muscle wasn't gonna protect him. He left too many gaps in his defense.

Where to strike? Oh, the possibilities.

An uppercut to the chin would knock him off balance. He'd be down for the count, out cold. Easy victory.

Or how about a gut punch? He'd never react quick enough to block me. He was big, but slow as an upside-down turtle.

“You gonna keep prancing around like a fairy?” Rico taunted me. “Look at him, boys. He'd make a better ballerina than a firefighter.”

His gang laughed along with him. One pitched a beer bottle at my head; it cleanly missed, hit some guy's car, and shattered into a mist of jagged green shards.

Another twirled a switchblade in his hand. He never took his eyes off me.

Was he trying to intimidate me? Hoping I'd throw the fight for this jackass?

Ha, right. I had my pride.

Just a couple more quick jabs, and Rico would be done. That five hundred in prize money was gonna look real nice padding my wallet.

“Maybe I fight dirty, Rico, but
you
don't fight so fair yourself.” My stare fixed on his scarred face. “What's the matter? So scared of losing, you gotta pull your lackeys in to help? A real man fights alone.”

He scowled. I'd struck a nerve. Nothing like some good old-fashioned psychological warfare to beat a guy into submission.

“Shut up, asshole. I don't need nobody else.”

“Then tell your boys to back off. This is between us. One on one.”

“Don't listen to his bullshit, man.” One of Rico's buddies spat at my feet. “He's tryin' to trip you up.”

“I ain't listening. Piss off.”

He glanced at the punk for just a second. That was all the time I needed.

I threw the first punch at his cheek. He turned just before my fist connected, ducked, and slung a blow of his own.

His knuckles, cracked and bloody, barely grazed my chest. The contact left a streak of red across my flesh.

The crowd erupted with excitement. The adrenaline coursing through my veins drowned out their yells and cheers. My heart hammered so hard, the noise of it pounded in my head.

Rico shot another lazy punch my way. Didn't even come close.

His eyes were full of panic now. Desperation, too. He knew he had no chance, but he wasn't gonna just give up.

Good. I'd hate to be denied the satisfaction of beating this fool into the ground.

“Hit him, R!”

“Come on, man, he's open! What are you waiting for?”

Even his drugged-up buddies were losing patience with him. Their jeers got under his skin.

That was the difference between us. He cared what these losers thought of him.

I'd never give anyone that kind of power over me.

His next swing clipped my shoulder. Another one was aimed for my skull.

This I ducked with ease and then, when he thought he'd gained the upper hand, I swept my leg behind his.

The move completely surprised him. It caught him behind the knee and sent him airborne. He fell on his back, gasping for breath.

His men groaned their disappointment.

“Glad I put my money on the white boy,” one muttered.

Rico was seriously hurting. He clutched his side and uttered a string of profanities in Spanish.

I could've kicked him while he was down, yeah, but I considered myself a hunter. There was no sport in killing weak, sick deer, now was there?

Those were the ones you left to the wolves.

“Is this fight finally over? Is Brett Silver going to be tonight's big winner?”

Ian, strip club bouncer and unofficial referee, gleefully shouted into the megaphone.

I knew better than to crow about my victory. A wounded animal could be the most dangerous one of all.

“I ain't... done with you yet,” Rico grunted. He rolled over and got up on weak, wobbly legs.

Everyone went nuts. I kept my distance, resisting the urge to punish him with the finishing blow. I'd let him come to me instead.

“You know what, Rico? Only an idiot keeps getting up just to get his ass knocked down again.”

I taunted him so he'd lose his cool. It worked.

He roared and charged at me like a bull blinded by rage. I steeled myself, focused, and calculated my next move.

I'd gotten bored of toying with him. This time, I wasn't holding back.

Rico raised his arm too soon, leaving his entire midsection open. Oh, this was too easy.

Then something gleamed in his fist.

I swerved just before he slashed my face with the shard of glass. Rough hands shoved me back into the ring.

“Put that shit down, man,” I shouted over the cheering. “That's cheating. No weapons allowed.”

Rico smiled in a way that said he wasn't quite right in the head. He rubbed the broken bottle between his palms.

“No,” he said. “No, I don't think so.”

“Using a weapon disqualifies you.” Ian's wavering voice echoed through the megaphone. “You'll forfeit the fight.”

I snickered. “No worries there. He had no chance of winning anyway.”

Rico's tanned cheeks turned even redder. “I don't give a damn about the prize money no more,” he snapped. “I'm sick and tired of losing to this fool. This is about
respect.
”

He gripped the pointed, knife-like shard tightly.

Not good. I could take out anybody in a fist fight, no question, but all bets were off now.

Rico had a nasty reputation around these parts. He was the sort of punk who'd kill a man and dump his body in the lake without blinking.

Okay, maybe teasing him wasn't the smartest idea.

“Respect, huh?” I laughed. “You think you'll earn respect by cutting up an unarmed man?”

“Yeah, I do think so. Nobody's
ever
beaten you. You're too full of yourself, and I don't like it.” He waved the makeshift dagger at me. “I think someone needs to take you down a few pegs.”

“Let's all just relax, huh?” Ian bravely stepped between us and forced a smile. “It's happy hour at Twinkles right now, y'all! Half off domestic drafts and well liquor. Why doesn't everyone take a break, have a drink, and enjoy a show or two?”

Rico bared his teeth. “Stay out of this, man. This is between me and white boy over there.”

I hated the idea of running from a fight, but sticking around here any longer would be like signing my own death certificate. While Ian distracted him, I surveyed the area for an escape route.

Men surrounded the two of us on all sides. Rico's pals blocked the exit to the parking lot, where my car was. If I could push past the crowd on the right, I might be able to duck into the club. He wouldn't follow me in there.

Would he?

“B-but Cocoa's working tonight. I know she's your favorite girl.” Ian was a big guy, but Rico had him shook up bad. “Hey, she's gonna be on stage in five minutes. How about a free private dance after? I can hook you up.”

“Sure, man. A free show sounds sweet – after I get done messing up that fool.” Rico's dark eyes settled on me. “Look at that pretty face of his. Ain't gonna be so pretty when I'm done with him.”

He pushed Ian out of the way and paced toward me. We circled each other like a pair of lions, each daring the other to pounce first.

His body language told me he already thought he'd won. He didn't bother guarding himself, which left him totally open.

Were I fast enough, I could get in a sucker punch that would send him to the ground. One mistake, though, might be deadly. It wasn't a risk I could take.

“Get him, Rico!”

“Yeah, teach that
gringo
a lesson!”

He barreled toward me, his weapon raised, ready to strike. Fury blinded him. It wasn't hard to dodge the attack.

He stumbled over his own feet and slipped in a mud puddle. His balance was off.

Time to move.

I kicked him in the ribs with every ounce of strength I had left. He howled in pain and fell face-first into the muck. There he stayed for one second, then five, not moving and barely breathing.

The crowd silenced. I hunched over, shaking like mad and unable to stop it no matter how I tried.

“Uh... It looks as if Brett is our winner!” Ian grinned and held up my arm. “Go on inside and talk to Marty for your prize.”

Suddenly, the money didn't mean much to me. I could have
died
just now. I'd had a lot of close calls in these fights, but this...

Rico groaned and rolled over. The broken bottle slipped from his hand. He was bloody, bruised, and likely suffering from at least a few fractured bones given the power in my blows.

“Hell no.” He wheezed with each breath. “This ain't done. I'm not finished with you.”

In the distance, sirens wailed. A fire? No, those weren't our trucks.

I stood over Rico. “Give it up, dude. You lost. This is what happens when you rely on weapons instead of your own abilities. If you kept on honing your technique, who knows? Maybe you'd beat me one day.”

He spat on my shoe. “Fuck you,” he growled. “I ain't no loser.”

Two cop cars peeled into the alley, lights flashing. The guys in the crowd ran as several officers filed out, guns drawn.

“Everybody stay where you are! Down on the ground, now!”

Shit. This wasn't the first time the police had shown up here. Apparently, they had a real problem with guys beating the crap out of each other for money.

“Where are you fools going?” Rico howled at his men and struggled to his feet. “Get your asses back here!”

There were so many guys fleeing in different directions, scurrying this way and that like terrified rats, the cops had no hope of catching them all. Some slipped past their cruisers, made it to the parking lot, then zoomed off in their souped-up cars. Others darted across the street through four lanes of traffic.

“C'mon, man.” Ian tugged at my arm. “We can go through the back door. Let them have Rico as a consolation prize.”