Claimed by the Possessive Fireman
The intense, handsome six foot seven fireman saves me from the burning theater where I’m rehearsing for an amateur production. He strides into my life and throws me over his shoulder, but little do I guess that the heat is just about to begin.
This older possessive silver fox has no problem claiming what’s his. He knows what he wants and how to take it. And, more and more, I’m starting to wonder if he wants to take me.
But this masculine millionaire fireman has been best friends with my dad since they were kids. Even though I’m eighteen, my family still treats me like a freaking baby. I just know Dad will freak if he discovers the truth.
But I can’t stop dreaming about how primal and savage this ripped fireman is, remembering how he carried me out of that blaze and right into the fire of our risky romance.
I have dreams of progressing my acting career, but that doesn’t mean I want my life coated in drama and pain. But I can’t keep away, not from this dominating fiery alpha who knows how to leave me breathless and gasping for more.
But, even if Dad approved, I’m a virgin and nowhere near as experienced as the women this dreamy savage must be used to. How the heck is that supposed so work?
As if things weren’t complicated enough, somebody’s following me, and I think I know who. I thought my stalker had finally called it quits. But apparently not.
With about a million reasons why this can’t work, will I ever get to be claimed by the possessive fireman?
*Claimed by the Possessive Fireman is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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Chapter One
Dominic
I lie down on the bench and reach up for the bar, the metal creaking under the strain of the weights secured onto the ends. My body is coated in a cool layer of sweat as my brothers workout or play cards or watch the game in different areas of the room, but nothing exists for me except for the bar, the strain of my body.
I grab it and slowly lower it down to my chest, gritting my teeth as I feel all the muscles inside of me twitching and priming, and then I hold it close, breathing slowly. I don’t let it touch my chest, because that’d be cheating.
I just hold it there.
And keep holding it.
Finally, after thirty seconds, I push it in a controlled motion back to the brackets and then continue with my sets, pumping it faster now, feeling everything in me go taut and powerful and ready to do serious work.
“Hey, Dom,” Max calls over, his Boston-Irish voice out of place in the sweltering confines of this Miami station. “What’d you prefer, redheads or blondes?”
“You’ll never get that out of him,” Sonny says, his voice a deep guttural grumble from where he sustained some smoke damage a few years ago. “He’s real secretive when it comes to his business with the ladies.”
I sit up and smirk good-naturedly at the two men, sitting around a small table playing cards. Sonny is tall and dark skinned with brown eyes and a cheeky, almost boyish smile. Max is tall as well, but as thin as a beanpole and with a shock of red hair contrasting sharply with his snow-pale skin. But his thinness is a lie, because he’s got a wiry strength to him.
“What’re you playing?” I ask.
“See,” Sonny grins. “Always changing the subject. I bet you got enough down under to last a lifetime, eh? See, Max, that’s what happens when you take off to Australia for three years.”
I chuckle deeply and wander over to the table, feigning like I’m about to smack Sonny across the jaw. He lifts his hands in mock horror and everybody laughs, and then I drop into the seat and play cards with them, but my mind drifts to what they said, about women.
I could tell them the truth, could let that unusual fire spew like a geyser from my mouth, that I’ve been waiting all my life for the woman I’m going to claim when she enters my life.
I’ll know her when I see her, I could tell them, but until then, I don’t see the point in just moving from woman to woman.
I’m sure they’d laugh and shake their heads like I was joking