The Problem with Fire - M.E. Clayton Page 0,11

of frustration. As a healthy red-blooded male, I should be squeezed in between a hot set of thighs at least four times a week. Preferably, Monroe’s hot set of thighs. Instead, I was yanking my dick on my days off like a horny teenager.

Before I could weigh the pros and cons of fucking her on a firetruck ladder, Kellen’s voice was in my ear, irritating the hell out of me. “Jesus Christ, who’s that?” he asked, his appreciation for Monroe obvious in his voice.

“Don’t make me fucking kill you,” I growled, my eyes still glued to where Monroe and Daria were talking.

“For what?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s her,” I told him, knowing I had to. “That’s my neighbor.”

“Are you serious?” He was gawking every bit as much as I was. “Did you finally make a move? Is she here to see you?”

I shook my head. “No,” I admitted. “I have no idea what she’s doing here.”

Kellen let out a low whistle. “Dude, if you don’t ask her out, I will,” he threatened. “She’s fucking smokin’.”

I looked over at my best friend. “I will kill you if you go anywhere near her,” I warned. “She’s mine.” Okay. Not entirely true, but true enough.

He snorted. “Not if she’s not in your bed every night, loser,” he fired back, but before I could bash his head into the nearest fire pole, Daria and Monroe made their way over.

“Oh, Kellen, Sayer, I’d like you to meet the county building inspector,” Daria said. “This is Monroe Stewart. Sarah’s on vacation or something.”

Kellen reached his hand out to take Monroe’s hand in his and I almost snatched it back and beat him in the head with it. “Ms. Stewart,” he greeted. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Monroe shook his hand. “It’s to meet you, too, Mr…?”

Kellen flashed her a smile, and though he looked nonthreatening with his blonde hair and keen brown eyes, I really was about to bash his head in. “Everett,” he supplied. “But you may call me Kellen.” Monroe smiled at him, and that was my limit.

“Hey, Monroe,” I said, never mind a circle and just pissing all over her from head to toe.

“Hi, Sayer,” she mumbled, a far cry from the smile she had given Kellen. “I…I didn’t know you worked here.” And I didn’t know she was a county inspector of sorts.

“Yeah, I-”

“You two know each other?” Daria asked, and even though I knew it was a perfectly reasonable question, it bothered me because Daria’s been trying to ride my dick ever since she started working here. And it didn’t matter that she’s already slept with a couple of the guys here, she still dialed her flirt on high when I was on shift.

“We…we’re neighbors,” Monroe answered, and I hated that she had labeled us neighbors and not even friends.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “That makes more sense.”

“More sense than what?” I asked coolly. I knew exactly what she was meaning, and I didn’t like it.

“Uh, the…inspection,” Kellen said, trying to defuse my irritation. “Is there anything you need from us?”

Daria threw out a fake laugh, trying to mask the awkwardness. “Hardly,” she replied. “I seriously doubt she’s going to fail us with Sayer being her neighbor, and all.”

I had to grit my teeth at how unbelievably stupid and catty Daria was behaving. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Uh…you know, I think I better call another building inspec-”

“What? No,” I rushed out, looking at Monroe. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah,” Kellen said, trying to help. “It was just a joke, I’m sure. No one was questioning your integrity, Ms. Stewart.”

Monroe started gnawing on her bottom lip, and she no longer looked like the confident government worker she had looked like just minutes earlier. She shook her head and grimaced a bit. “Be that as it may, it’s best if someone else handles this inspection.” Her eyes shot my way for a quick second before returning those chocolate orbs back Kellen’s way. “We can’t chance any…possible misrepresentation of this…uh, situation.” She tightened her clipboard to her chest as she dug her phone out of her purse. “Excuse me, please.” I stood there like a chump as Monroe made her way towards the garage man door. But that lasted all of five seconds.

“What in the hell is your problem, Daria?” I hissed. “She’s a goddamn county building inspector, and you’re treating her like some gossip girl sorority sister.”

“Sayer-”

I turned towards Kellen. “What, man?” I asked, and he knew I was pissed and, more importantly, why.

“Jesus, Sayer,” Daria huffed. “It was