Lighting the Lamp (Chicago Velocity Book 1) Read online

  Lighting

  the Lamp

  ABBY BURCH

  Copyright © 2018 Abby Burch

  All rights reserved.

  Trademarks used herein are owned by their respective trademark owners and are used without permission.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any and all likenesses to real people or events are purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9781723743702

  For Taz,

  The world’s best cuddle buddy.

  1. Brenna

  "Come on, it's going to be fun," my roommate/best friend Carly whines at me while dragging a flat iron down her long, dark brown hair.

  "I know," I sigh as I trudge out of the jack-and-jill bathroom separating our bedrooms and open my closet door. "It's just hard to be excited for your engagement when I'm probably going to be alone forever." I start rifling through my closet for something nice to wear. Carly and John have been dating for over two years now, and she's the last of our friend circle to get engaged.

  Besides me, that is.

  "Bren, you're a smart, beautiful woman, and any guy would be lucky to have you," Carly calls out from the bathroom.

  She's not wrong, it's just that for the past decade, there's only been one guy that I've wanted. And unfortunately, he doesn't want me.

  I'm moving on from Ashton, for real this time.

  Unfortunately, I'm not really sure what that means for me quite yet... but for now, I'm going to be supportive of Carly and John, and try not to be a bitter old hag.

  I quickly throw my favorite black dress over my head and smooth the fabric down my body. It has short sleeves, with a sheer panel across the upper chest that gives just a hint at my cleavage, and the waist hits at just the right spot into a flared bottom, giving the illusion of a more curvy figure than I actually have. It's my go-to dress because not only does it fit me perfectly, but it is also ultra-comfortable.

  I hear the front door open in the distance and a voice calls out, "Are you guys almost ready?"

  "In a minute, John!" Carly yells back at her fiancé from the bathroom. I'm slipping a silver bangle bracelet onto my wrist as John pokes his head into my room from the bathroom to wave hello.

  John is perfect for Carly. Not just because he's incredibly handsome, but because he's the yin to her yang. As crazy and spontaneous as she is, he's laid back, cool and collected. Also, he's always been nice to me and not just to impress his girlfriend's best friend to get her approval or anything - John is just truly a nice guy and we've become good friends as a result of his relationship with Carly.

  "Thanks for arranging everything tonight, Brenna," he says to me with a genuine smile.

  "Of course," I reply, turning to my full length mirror for a once-over. "As the Maid of Honor, it's my honor to do it."

  Soon enough, the three of us are out the door and arriving at the restaurant for the first part of the evening. It's a higher-end place and was at the top of my budget, but it's one of Carly's favorite places, and is where she and John had their first date, so it was an obvious choice for a celebratory dinner with friends.

  Our reserved table is in one of the back rooms. We quickly settle in and Carly cracks into the wine as the rest of her friends begin to arrive. She pours me a small glass, knowing that wine isn't my jam but I'll suffer through it when needed, and we share a silent toast with a smile.

  Carly's social circle is much larger than mine. People naturally gravitate to her - she's gorgeous, funny, and a social butterfly. Of course, all of these people could be considered my friends as well, however I prefer to call the majority of them acquaintances as I'm not close with most of them. Carly and John are my only real close "friends" any more, partly of my own choosing and partly because of Ashton.

  Dinner is fabulous, and John and Carly are having a blast. Seeing Carly so happy would be enough to lift anyone out of a funk, so it's impossible for me to be a party pooper, even though I'm by far the most sober person in the room.

  As things are winding down, I head up to the hostess podium to pay the remainder of what I owe for the evening. I'm pretty sure I hear my poor Amex cry in pain as they slide it through the card reader. I don't have a choice though - as a twenty-seven year old college grad who will probably be paying on my student loans until I'm eighty, American Express has unfortunately become a close friend, except at places where they don't accept American Express. Luckily I also have my friends Visa and MasterCard as backup.

  I know it isn't a good plan or responsible to rely on credit cards, but for now, it's either that or default on my student loans and have it come back on my family who co-signed for them. And I can't let that happen, no matter what.

  As I return to the table, Carly excitedly tells me that we're going barhopping from here. She's already pretty drunk, which only makes her want to party harder. I groan and try to protest, but she cuts me off. "Come on, Bren! Let's go have some fun. We deserve it."

  "That's what you say every time we go out," I mumble half-heartedly. She doesn't hear it though because she's already halfway out the door, along with most of our dinner group.

  The bar is packed and it takes a while for all 15 of us to be able to get in. Carly and several of the other girls immediately go secure one of the large round tables near the back while the guys go to get drinks. I plop down next to Carly and scope out the scene. The table we picked is near the dance floor, so my eyeballs are immediately bombarded by some really terrible drunken dance moves being performed by a couple of college-age guys. At least the DJ tonight seems to be decent.

  John and the guys show up with a couple pitchers of beer and two rounds of shots for all of us. Reluctantly, I down the shots I'm given and immediately feel the warmth hit all of my insides. I really planned on staying mostly-sober tonight, but now I'm reconsidering. After all, I can always catch an Uber home.

  The DJ is pumping some dance tunes, and soon enough, Carly is dragging me to the dance floor. I'm not a dancer, but she's a natural along with several of her friends, so they begin moving fluidly to the beat while I awkwardly shuffle. Some of the guys join us as well, and dance with their fiancées/wives.

  I watch John and Carly dancing together, so lost in each other, and I feel the knife of jealousy twisting in my stomach. I try so hard to ignore its presence, but sometimes it is easier than others. I can't say that I've ever been as happy as Carly is right now. I honestly can't say I've been even close to as happy as she is when she's with John.

  I can't seem to catch my breath and I realize I'm about to have a panic attack. A jealousy-induced panic attack – great. I immediately escape the dance floor and head to the bar. I need to get out of my own head, so I catch the attention of the bartender and order my favorite shot - Sex with an Alligator.

  "You're going to have sex with an alligator?" A male voice next to me says incredulously. I turn to look at the source of the question and am greeted by the most gorgeous blue eyes I've ever seen in my entire life. They're such a light shade of blue that they remind me of the wispy clouds that drift across the sky on a warm summer day.

  The bearer of aforementioned eyes is close to a foot taller than I am, which at 5'4" isn't exactly common but isn't unheard of, either. He has dark hair, cut short on the sides and longer on top, gelled upwards into a gravity-defying style. His beard is short and well-groomed, and he's sporting a smirk.

  "Well, of course," I try to say as smoothly as possible. "When you're hav
ing a shitty night, the best way to make it better is to have sex with a dangerous, wild animal."

  The guy laughs, and it might be the sexiest sound I've ever heard. I may be mistaken though, as my head is pounding along with the techno beat that is thundering through the bar.

  "So that's how you fix a shitty night, huh?" He says as he turns to the bartender and shouts to make it two shots. By some miracle the bartender actually hears the guy over the music and begins to make a second shot.

  "I'm Ryan, by the way," he says, extending his hand toward mine.

  "Brenna," I say, and give his hand a firm shake. I feel a surge of energy pass between us. I quickly pull my hand away and clear my throat. Luckily, the bartender comes back with our shots at that moment. Ryan tells him to put them both on his tab.

  He holds up his shot, which is tri-colored layers of deliciousness, and says "to improving shitty nights by having sex with deadly animals."

  "Cheers," I clink his glass with a grin.

  Three shots later, my cheeks are tingly and the room is starting to spin. Ryan is proving to be quite a conversationalist, and I'm actually enjoying myself. Briefly, I've forgotten that I'm 15th-wheeling my best friend's engagement party and I let myself get sucked into Ryan's eyes. And smile. And mild accent - possibly Canadian? And his presence in general.

  Maybe it's the alcohol talking, but I'm feeling unusually bold. "So what brings you out tonight?" I ask him.

  It's gone as quickly as it was there - some kind of dark flash behind Ryan's eyes. If I hadn't been so entranced by them, I would have missed it. It is instantly replaced by the playful sparkle that had been there before. "I knew there would be a beautiful girl at this bar tonight that I needed to get to know."

  My cheeks burn even more. He's flirting, and I'm drunk, and I'm jealous and pissed off that everyone around me is happy in long term relationships, and he's so insanely hot that I can barely believe he's talking to me, let alone flirting.

  "You're adorable when you blush, Brenna," he says to me, his voice velvety smooth. My heart pounds in my chest along with the music.

  The alcohol has lowered my inhibitions and apparently my filter as well. "You're sexy as hell," I attempt to flirt back, immediately realize what I have said, and clap a hand over my mouth. Luckily, Ryan laughs as he puts his arm around my waist. My body reacts to the touch and goosebumps immediately ricochet across my arms. There's an undercurrent of electricity flowing between us.

  So when Ryan leans in and whispers in my ear, "Want to get out of here?" I nod.

  I'm not a one night stand kind of girl. But you know what? Fuck it. Tonight, I am.

  2. Ryan

  I walk with Brenna to the Uber waiting for us in front of the bar and hold the door open for her, ushering her inside. She stumbles slightly as she gets in. I slide in next to her and hand her the bottle of water I bought as we were getting ready to head out.

  "Drink up," I say to her. "Hydration is important."

  "Okay," she says with a smile and takes a swig. I keenly watch her perfect lips as she pulls the bottle away and licks the excess water from them. Fuck, she's so hot and I'm already sporting a semi. I need her to be at least somewhat sober, so I'm going to push water on her. I don't know how one shot turned into three, but it did. I didn't expect her to agree to come home with me, but she did.

  Tonight is a night of unexpected surprises, that's for sure.

  We pull up to the house and I give the driver a five-star rating before hopping out. I offer my hand to Brenna, who stands up much more steadily than she did when we left the bar. I guide her up the sloped driveway to the large, sprawling home in this new development in the suburbs. All of the houses are a little too new for my taste - I prefer the old, worn-in wood as opposed to that fake wood shit they put in most new developments now, but with the time crunch I was in, I'll take what I can get. It beats sleeping in a hotel.

  Brenna's eyes are wide, the accent lights lining the front bushes reflecting off them. "Your house is huge," she says breathlessly.

  "Thanks," I say nonchalantly as I unlock the front door and usher her into the foyer. It's got one of the two stairways to the second floor, plus there is a balcony that overlooks the foyer. I kick off my shoes and pad into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

  "No, thank you," she says quietly, and I immediately sense nerves in her voice. She's standing near the kitchen island, wringing the bottom of her dress with trembling hands. It would bother me that she's nervous except that she's unintentionally lifting the front of her dress up slightly, revealing more of her slender legs.

  "You haven't done a random hookup before, have you?" I ask. She shakes her head no, eyes at the floor. Damn if she isn't the sweetest thing. "Listen, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

  She responds by launching herself at me and I'm stunned speechless by 115 lbs of beautiful woman kissing me. Her mouth is soft but urgent; she sears me as her tongue slides across my lips, begging me to let her in.

  I hold the back of her head with one hand as the kiss deepens, my other hand pulling her waist into me. My dick presses uncomfortably against my jeans. I don't think she can feel it yet, but she will soon enough. Her hands glide up and down my back sending ripples through me.

  "Brenna," I grit out, and she stares up at me with those big brown eyes. She reminds me of a doe in the cold Canadian snow, full of wide-eyed curiosity and innocence. "I want to fuck you. Is that okay?"

  She nods with determination. "I would like that very much."

  "Good," I say, then swiftly lift her up and over my shoulder. She squeals with a mixture of surprise and delight as I carry her down the hall and into the master bedroom.

  Somewhat roughly, I toss her onto the bed, enjoying the view a little too much when her legs spread open and I see her bright pink underwear.

  I pull my shirt over my head and throw it across the room onto the floor and Brenna gasps. I watch as her eyes roam over my body, taking in my six-pack abs. Being a professional athlete means I'm in great shape but it also means I'm highly recognizable. Thankfully, I don't think she knows who I am, which honestly makes things easier for both of us.

  "Take off your dress," I command her, and she quickly sheds the garment. I take in the sight of her slim figure. All the best pieces are hidden by her pink underwear and black bra. Her slender stomach is toned, smooth, pale skin. Her blonde hair sits in light waves across her shoulders and chest, and she looks angelic.

  Too bad she's dancing with the devil tonight.

  I climb on top of her and press myself against her, holding most of my weight up on my arms as I meet her lips again. Her hips buck and grind against me and holy shit - I don't know what it is about this girl but if I don't calm down I'll embarrass myself, teenager style. It's only been a little over a week since I last got some pussy, so it's not like it's been an extraordinarily long amount of time or anything.

  Brenna's hands slide up and down my arms, which are covered in tattoos. I finally finished my right sleeve earlier in the summer, so I'm covered in ink from shoulder to wrist on both arms.

  I trail kisses down her jawbone, to her neck and down to her chest. We lock eyes and I wait for her permission to continue. I may be a bit of a man-whore at times, but I'd like to think I'm still a gentleman. I'll never push a girl farther than she'd like to go. She smiles and nods, giving me the go-ahead and I slip my hands around her back, undoing the clasp on her bra in one quick motion.

  Bra quickly discarded, I let my hands go to work. She moans as I palm her tits, her nipples tight under my hands. Brenna's boobs aren't huge but they're natural and that's more important to me than giant, fake tits. I take one nipple into my mouth and roll my tongue around it, teasing her, and the moan I get in response eggs me on. She moves her hands up into my hair and grips it tightly as I gently suck on her.

  My jeans are now strangling my cock so I quickly dismount her and pull them off, along with my socks. My dick is at full attention inside my boxer-briefs,
pointing straight toward the prize, and her beautiful, wide eyes are locked on it.

  "Are you still sure you want to do this?"

  "Ryan," she says breathily. It's so sexy. "Please, fuck me."

  She doesn't have to tell me twice.

  3. Brenna

  The heat in Ryan's eyes is carnal. He's immediately on top of me again, our mouths a tangle of lips and tongues, and his dick resting hotly against me. His hand glides across my collarbone and down my side, gripping my side as he grinds against me. Involuntarily, my hips buck, increasing the friction between us. Thankfully, Ryan grabs my panties and shimmies them down my legs, chucking them across the room. His red boxer-briefs quickly follow.

  I'm not a prude, but I'm definitely not a hussy, either. I've only seen a handful of dicks in my lifetime, but none of them were as big or as beautiful as Ryan's. He keeps things well-maintained which shows off the incredible length and girth all the more, not that it needs any help.

  He looks delectable and impossibly sexy. I'm feeling a little intimidated and a lot self-conscious. I haven't been keeping up on the downstairs maintenance very well because it's been out of service for so damn long. Ryan doesn't seem to mind though as he lays on his stomach in between my legs, tossing them over his shoulders.

  Beginning at my knee, he starts trailing kisses along the inside of my thigh. It tingles and I feel a low burn of need in my belly, a moan escaping me as he plants a gentle kiss directly on my clit. He glances up at me and all I can see are his eyes, but that's all I need to see - they're dancing with desire.

  I feel his tongue circling me and my vision clouds with stars. I clench my legs around his head, probably suffocating him but I'm on my way to cloud nine. He tongue-fucks me as one hand works my clit and instantly I'm propelled into an earth-shattering orgasm. It feels like I'm a star in supernova as every nerve ending in my body explodes at once.