Billionaire on Fire (Firefighter Billionaire Stand-Alone Romance) by Lora Knightly
Authors: Lora Knightly
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Billionaire on Fire
Sweat trailed down Erica’s back and made her shirt stick to her skin. She had been running for a good thirty minutes now, her limbs aching and her chest on fire, and she debated whether or not to do another lap in the park.
It was a beautiful New York morning in June. There was a cool breeze sending wafts of fresh-cut grass and blooming flowers into her young face as she ran. The air was just heating up as the sun hit the top of the trees, but the park was mostly empty. She passed the occasional tourist or old woman dressed for church, but otherwise it was like she had Central Park to herself.
Plus it felt good to run. All those months of being cooped up in freshman classes for the year made her eager to get out and use her body. Not that she had been lazy previously. She spent half her time freshman year at the university gym, working tirelessly to lose the weight she had carried all through high school, and now her lean figure was showing the benefit of every kick, curl, and crunch she had suffered through. Her arms were toned, her hips and butt nicely rounded, and her stomach and abs free of fat. Running today, she felt confident in her body like never before. She didn’t even feel embarrassed in her revealing running shorts. Hell, her tank top was practically see-through at this point, it was so thin that she might as well have been wearing only her sports bra, but still she felt good.
It didn’t hurt seeing men and women checking her out as she ran, either, even if she was always surprised that people still liked her even when she was hot and sweaty. She didn’t even bother with her hair this morning, since it would only get mussed with her sweat as she ran. She undid her ponytail to let the air reach her hot scalp, then tied it up again and decided to do another lap.
As she ran, the park grew more crowded. Someone behind her rang the bell of a bike, making her jump. She gave the rider a dirty look as she got over to the side of the path. Losing her focus though threw off her breathing, and she was getting a cramp in her upper stomach because of it. Having to weave between oblivious park-goers was getting on her nerves. She considered turning back, but she still had plenty of open patches in the path to herself and didn’t lose too much speed. She gritted her teeth, her running shoes thumping along the pavement, and continued on.
She was just getting back into the zone when a little kid, around five-years-old and dressed like a sailor, ran into the center of the path from out of nowhere. The child was no more than five feet in front of Erica and stopped in the middle of the path, staring right at her.
“Argh!” Erica yelled, unable to slow down in time and barely swerving around the child. She stumbled, still running, and turned to see the kid’s mother run out and pick him up, kissing him on the face like he had won an award. Erica shook her head, and turned back forward at the same moment she felt her foot knock against what felt like a curb in the middle of the pathway.
She couldn’t dodge this one. Her toe stubbed against it, and she fell forward hard, her ankle twisting. She threw out her hands to break her fall and hit the ground with her elbows. A sharp pain shot up her leg, and her head rang with an instant headache.
“Ow,” she mumbled to herself, trying to push up with her hands and feeling the dirt and sand of the pathway digging into the scrapes on her elbows. She rolled over into a sitting position and felt another stab of pain in her ankle. Reflexively, she brought a leg up to her body to try to feel where it had been twisted. “Ow,” she said again at the touch, and then carefully set her foot on the ground, letting out a sigh as she did.
She saw what made her trip: a tree root had cracked and raised part of the pathway, looking like an arm under a blanket. If she had been paying attention, Erica could have easily stepped over it. But that little kid had
Sweat trailed down Erica’s back and made her shirt stick to her skin. She had been running for a good thirty minutes now, her limbs aching and her chest on fire, and she debated whether or not to do another lap in the park.
It was a beautiful New York morning in June. There was a cool breeze sending wafts of fresh-cut grass and blooming flowers into her young face as she ran. The air was just heating up as the sun hit the top of the trees, but the park was mostly empty. She passed the occasional tourist or old woman dressed for church, but otherwise it was like she had Central Park to herself.
Plus it felt good to run. All those months of being cooped up in freshman classes for the year made her eager to get out and use her body. Not that she had been lazy previously. She spent half her time freshman year at the university gym, working tirelessly to lose the weight she had carried all through high school, and now her lean figure was showing the benefit of every kick, curl, and crunch she had suffered through. Her arms were toned, her hips and butt nicely rounded, and her stomach and abs free of fat. Running today, she felt confident in her body like never before. She didn’t even feel embarrassed in her revealing running shorts. Hell, her tank top was practically see-through at this point, it was so thin that she might as well have been wearing only her sports bra, but still she felt good.
It didn’t hurt seeing men and women checking her out as she ran, either, even if she was always surprised that people still liked her even when she was hot and sweaty. She didn’t even bother with her hair this morning, since it would only get mussed with her sweat as she ran. She undid her ponytail to let the air reach her hot scalp, then tied it up again and decided to do another lap.
As she ran, the park grew more crowded. Someone behind her rang the bell of a bike, making her jump. She gave the rider a dirty look as she got over to the side of the path. Losing her focus though threw off her breathing, and she was getting a cramp in her upper stomach because of it. Having to weave between oblivious park-goers was getting on her nerves. She considered turning back, but she still had plenty of open patches in the path to herself and didn’t lose too much speed. She gritted her teeth, her running shoes thumping along the pavement, and continued on.
She was just getting back into the zone when a little kid, around five-years-old and dressed like a sailor, ran into the center of the path from out of nowhere. The child was no more than five feet in front of Erica and stopped in the middle of the path, staring right at her.
“Argh!” Erica yelled, unable to slow down in time and barely swerving around the child. She stumbled, still running, and turned to see the kid’s mother run out and pick him up, kissing him on the face like he had won an award. Erica shook her head, and turned back forward at the same moment she felt her foot knock against what felt like a curb in the middle of the pathway.
She couldn’t dodge this one. Her toe stubbed against it, and she fell forward hard, her ankle twisting. She threw out her hands to break her fall and hit the ground with her elbows. A sharp pain shot up her leg, and her head rang with an instant headache.
“Ow,” she mumbled to herself, trying to push up with her hands and feeling the dirt and sand of the pathway digging into the scrapes on her elbows. She rolled over into a sitting position and felt another stab of pain in her ankle. Reflexively, she brought a leg up to her body to try to feel where it had been twisted. “Ow,” she said again at the touch, and then carefully set her foot on the ground, letting out a sigh as she did.
She saw what made her trip: a tree root had cracked and raised part of the pathway, looking like an arm under a blanket. If she had been paying attention, Erica could have easily stepped over it. But that little kid had
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