Playing With Fire Online Novels & Stories

I’m done. K: WHAT DO YOU MEAN, B? TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON! What are they doing??! B: Umm... playing. Playing? What kind of game is this? My pulse quickens. K: Playing??? B: With fire... Oh. Hell. No. Not on my watch! That leech Ruby is about to get burned. . . . [RUBY]

I sent anonymous videos of me playing with myself with a vibrator to my deskmate just for the thrill of it. I loved the thrill that came with carrying out forbidden, socially unacceptable acts like these—especially more so when he was frantically seeking out my identity. The lower I sank, the greater the thrill. … Late at night, I lay spread out in bed, panting loudly as my body trembled like jelly. I stayed like that until the waves of pleasure finally calmed down, allowing me to relax the muscles in my back.

I let out another small sound, this one just on the edge between pain and something else entirely. Theo’s jaw clenches, his breath flaring through his nose as he forces his attention back to the wound. “You’re playing with fire,” he mutters under his breath. I lean back slightly, letting my legs swing a little off the counter as I smile. “You like fire.” “You don’t know what I like.” “Don’t I?”

And as I turn walking away from the fire, I know one thing. This isn’t over. Not even close. Because people like Lira? They don’t just exist. They change the game. And I don’t lose games. I rewrite them. Even if it means walking through fire to do it. Let the games begin.

"It's not nice to touch a fire on purpose. In case you don't know, I'm a fire that shouldn't be played around with." "In case you don't know…" As if I had been expecting him to say that, my words came out straight and sharp. I glowered. "I'm a more dangerous fire. The thing used to quench a fire is water. That means, if you aren't careful, you'll make the fire in us light up. Just tell the Media the truth, and I promise to never set my eyes on you." "I still won't do it. Leave, or I ask my men to take you away," he menaced even harder.

It smashes against the doorframe, right in the center of the rushing mob. FWOOM. Liquid fire sprays everywhere. Men scream. They drop their weapons, batting at the flames engulfing their legs and chests. The doorway turns into a wall of fire. "Hold the line!" Drakon shouts, firing into the smoke. But they aren't stopping. They are pushing through the fire. They are climbing over the burning bodies of their brothers. A Reaper bursts through the flames, his arm on fire. He raises a submachine gun. He sprays the room.

author pov A few days later, Evelynn and Rose were watching Leo practice his fire-conjuring spell with Gammy. The little boy loved it when Gammy taught his lessons and wanted more than anything to please her. Gammy laughed when one of his fireballs landed in the pot of water on the stove and fizzled out. Leo frowned and tried once more to conjure a fireball and throw it in the fireplace to start a fire. This one bounced off the wall, flew across the room, and set the curtain on fire, hanging at the front window. Rose grabbed the pot of water and threw it on the curtain. The fire was put out, and Gammy was coaching Leo to concentrate and picture what he wanted to happen as he spoke the spell.

Storms would stand still and wind would cease. The more the world attacked her, the fiercer her gaze was, like Fire, or a cracker. Like a Firecracker.

How? "Fire play is just like knife play, needle play, anything; there are different levels, it doesn't have to be something big, it can literally be the fire from the candle." I understand that. "The candles I use to drip wax on you, don't go above a certain temperature, so that will be a starting point if I use them." "Why now, Master?" I need to know why.

I ordered a few drinks, no companions, and I pulled out my laptop, which I had brought in with me from the car. An impenetrable device that only opened with my biodata and a 30-character password that changed hourly. It used a private data link to get me on the internet and that was surrounded by layers of VPN re-routing codes that made it look like I was in India one second and South-Africa the next, supported by a firewall that sent a worm to any digital finger that so much as grazed my network, even if by accident, and simultaneously fried the computer’s hard drive. I spent the next two hours there as the club got busier and the music got louder.