Bringing this over from tumblr to FF ;o) this was my birthday present to the wonderful and TALENTED angiemagz, manip queen of the S/T fandom. She made a manip of a modern Tom Branson in a fireman's jacket (and no shirt!) and immediately it spawned "stripper!Tom" feels from my crack-ish story, "Drive My Car". So THIS story is set in that same universe (and because it takes place *after* that story and makes several references to it, you really need to read that story *before* this one...so go ahead, read it, don't worry, fireman!Tom will be here when you get back ;o)

Hope you enjoy, and again, Happy Birthday Angie!

Hunka, Hunka, Burnin' Love
by The Yankee Countess
(part of the "Drive My Car" universe)

"Alright, Syb, SPILL!"

Sybil looked at her friend in confusion, but before she could say anything, Rose was answering for her.

"His name is Tom, he's Irish, and absolutely gorgeous!"

Sybil was blushing deeply, though she couldn't help but smile at her cousin's words. "He also happens to be brilliant, and is a very talented writer—"

"Who used to strip before he started dating this one," Rose cut in, pointing an accusatory finger at Sybil.

"ROSE!"

"What?" her cousin batted her eyes innocently. "It's true!" She then put on a pout. "And thanks to you, Barrow's Burrow just isn't the same without him!"

Sybil rolled her eyes and lifted her glass to her lips, ignoring her cousin's comments and enjoying the wine Gwen had ordered for their table.

"I have his picture if you want to see," Rose offered, digging her mobile out of her purse.

"WHAT?" Sybil practically choked on her wine, but Gwen was already reaching across the table and eagerly snatching Rose's phone from her hands before Sybil could intercept.

"Oooohhh Syb…" Gwen giggled, her grin spreading further as she got a good eyeful of her friend's boyfriend. "Well done you!"

Sybil snatched the phone from Gwen and looked at it quickly, her face burning even brighter as she recognized the picture from the night she had met Tom, the night she had "posed" as her sister, and received Mary's pre-ordered lap dance.

"You will delete that this instant," Sybil threatened, glaring at her cousin. "And it better not be on your Facebook page!"

Now it was Rose who was rolling her eyes. "You're no fun," she muttered.

"Rose—!"

"Ok, ok, there! It's done!" Rose deleted the picture right there, but she did pout while she did so. "And I promise, I haven't shown or posted it anywhere, I'm not that insensitive," she sighed dramatically, before dropping the mobile back into her purse.

Gwen was still giggling and she eyed Sybil curiously. "Do your parents know?"

Sybil blushed and shook her head. "They haven't met him yet, though Mama does keep asking," she murmured. "But anyway, he's a writer now, and it was HIS decision to quit dancing, Rose; I didn't force him to do anything."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, but we all know better; you're the reason he quit," she paused to take a gulp of wine from her glass. "And I hope you're happy, Sybil for depriving the rest of us of your Irishman's 'talents'."

Gwen laughed. "Oh I'm sure she is; I've never seen her glow like this!"

Sybil's blush only deepened. "I…I'm not—"

"Yes you are," both women responded, winking at her. "So Syb, I'll repeat what I said earlier—SPILL!"

"Yes please," Rose eagerly agreed, grabbing the wine bottle and topping Sybil's glass. "Tell me, does your Mr. Branson give you 'private performances'?"

"And are those dance moves of his as good in bed as they are on stage?" Gwen teased.

"ENOUGH!" Sybil practically shouted. "I was never one to 'kiss and tell' and I'm not going to start now!"

Both Rose and Gwen burst into laughter at Sybil's aggravated state. "Oh fine, fine," Gwen sighed. "It was worth a try," she said with a wink. "Oh, but that reminds me! Your birthday is coming up!" Gwen glanced at Rose. "Do you think Tom would be willing to entertain us?"

Sybil threw her napkin at her friends, who only threw their heads back and laughed.

"Did you have a good time with your friends tonight?"

Heat flooded Sybil's face as she recalled the conversation between herself and Gwen and Rose. They had enjoyed teasing her, and couldn't stop giggling, no matter how "indignant" Sybil became. She was standing in the bathroom in that moment, and had just finished brushing her teeth. The door to the bathroom was opened, and from this angle, she could see her bed directly across from the bathroom in the bathroom's mirror. Her face grew even hotter as she looked at the shirtless Irishman who was sitting up in her bed, waiting for her to join him.

She coughed and rinsed her mouth one more time before answering him. "Mmmhmm!" she swallowed and tucked some hair behind her ears before she turned off the lights and returned to the bedroom.

Tom just kept smiling, clearly unaware of what had been the topic of conversation when she was out (or that he was the focus for it) and simply peeled back the blankets for her, wasting no time in gathering her close as she slipped into the bed.

Sybil smiled and eagerly leaned up to kiss him, loving the feel of his arms around her, sighing happily and contentedly as she snuggled close to his body, all those embarrassing details about her conversation with Rose and Gwen flying out the window as Tom turned off the lamp, and the settled back against the pillows in the now darkened bedroom. As much as she enjoyed their "usual" late night bedroom antics, it was just as lovely when they simply curled up together under the blankets and fell asleep in each other's arms. And Sybil was very close to drifting off completely, her cheek against his chest, when she felt his voice vibrating beneath it, asking her a question.

"Friday's your birthday; will you be getting together with the girls again?"

And everything came crashing back. "Oh God," Sybil groaned, burrowing her face against his skin.

Tom stiffened. "What? What's wrong?"

She sighed and took a deep breath, before lifting her head and sitting up. "Rose…told Gwen about what you used to do…"

There was a long moment of silence and Sybil bit her lip, wondering if he was going to say something. She hadn't turned a light on, so she couldn't see what his reaction was, but she felt tension crackling between them. She opened her mouth to say something further, but stopped short when she heard Tom speak.

"And…that embarrassed you?" he softly asked.

Sybil felt her breath hitch in her throat at his question. She couldn't see his face, but…oh God, she swore she heard sadness. Not that Tom wanted her to necessarily advertise that he had been a stripper; his brother was the only person in his circle that knew about his momentary profession, and as far as Tom was concerned, that was more than enough. And while it did make him blush, knowing that both of Sybil's sisters and her cousin were aware of what he had once done (after all, it was how both he and Sybil had met), again, that didn't mean he wanted to climb Downton's highest tower and shout from the rooftops to her parents, "I met your daughter while giving her a lap dance!"

No, the pain and sadness that she swore she heard didn't have anything to do with others knowing or not knowing, but everything to do with the fear that she would be embarrassed, disappointed, or disgusted with him, to the point where she wouldn't want to have anything to do with him and look down upon him. And that fear she quickly needed to nip in the bud.

"No, no, I'm not, not at all!" she assured, reaching for him in the darkness, her hands finding his face and cupping his cheeks in her palms. "No, oh Tom, it wasn't that, I…" she sighed, wondering if he could see her face glowing in the dark from the way she was blushing. "I just don't like it when that seems to be all anyone can focus on," she admitted.

She felt him relax, and even felt the corners of his mouth spread in a smile, which naturally made her smile and feel a little relieved. "Trying to convince your friends that I've got brains to go with my brawn?" he teased light-heartedly, and then began to chuckle at the sound of her groan.

"People should be defined by their thoughts and actions, not their professions…or former professions," she mumbled.

Tom chuckled even more and moved then to enfold her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer, his lips lightly grazing hers.

"Ah well, give it time."

Sybil snorted at this. "I don't think all the time in the world will matter where Rose is concerned," she muttered.

He chuckled and kissed her brow. "Maybe not, but at the end of the day, your opinion is the only one I really care about."

She turned her head and looked up at him, and despite the darkness, she could see emotion in his eyes, the hope and the vulnerability he held within himself.

"I love you," she whispered, reaching up and touching his cheek, grinning as she felt his smile spread against her fingers. "I love you and I wouldn't stop loving you or being proud of you, even if you had continued dancing."

He chuckled and quickly lowered his lips to kiss hers, before resting their brows together. "I love you too," he murmured when their lips parted. "And thank you, love, though remember—I'm a proud dancer for one now," he winked.

Sybil groaned again, and with a resolute sigh, told Tom then about the conversation that had transpired between herself and Gwen and Rose. He listened and laughed and even blushed himself, as she retold the conversation, including the part where Gwen had teased her about "hiring" Tom to "entertain" them at Sybil's birthday party.

"I never did private parties," Tom told her when she had finished.

Sybil's eyes widened. "W-w-what?"

He chuckled and stroked her cheek. "As far as strippers go, love, I'm rather 'boring'; I mean, until the night I danced for you, I had never done a lap dance, or danced for a group of ladies in a private setting."

Sybil's arms tightened around his waist. "Is it wrong of me to be glad about that?"

He laughed and kissed her, and soon she found herself giggling too. As open-minded as she tried to be, she couldn't help being a little possessive.

"Although," he murmured after a while. "The idea is a little sexy…"

"What!?"

"Well think about it," he continued. "Showing up in some uniform, like a copper…taking you by the hand and leading you someplace to do a 'strip search', maybe be 'forced' to use the handcuffs—"

She swatted his chest, though the images he was painting in her mind were causing her heart to quicken and her body to hum.

"Or maybe a fireman, who's come to help put out your fire, using his hose—"

She cut off his words by kissing him deeply, and just like that, their "usual" late night antics quickly resumed as the sheets tangled with their limbs as they themselves tangled together.

Yet unbeknownst to Sybil, as afterwards she slept contentedly in the curve of her boyfriend's body while he left lazy kisses on her shoulder, he was already hatching a plan…one that he hoped would lead to a very happy birthday…

The first half of Sybil's birthday was spent with her sisters, having a "spa day", complete with massages, manicures, pedicures, and a delicious luncheon. The second half was spent with her friends, meeting for dinner at one of her favorite restaurants. To say she was a bit nervous would be an understatement, as it was at this dinner that Gwen and her other friends got to meet Tom. Throughout the entire meal she sent death glares to her cousin, warning her with little looks not to say anything involving Tom's former career. And while Rose would wink and blow kisses Sybil's way, clearly enjoying the rise she was getting out of her, she was good and did manage to keep her mouth closed on the matter. Although both she and Gwen did hiss into Sybil's ear as Tom went to the loo about what a shame it was that he couldn't come in his chauffeur's livery.

All in all, the evening was a success, although the stress was far from over, as Sybil…and Tom…would finally be meeting her parents on Sunday.

"Good birthday?" Tom asked her after they had returned to her flat.

Sybil looked up at him and smiled, pushing aside any anxiety she was feeling about the impending lunch meeting with her parents and nodded her head, while she settled down on the sofa, happily kicking her heels off.

"I'm glad," Tom murmured with a smile, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders, before leaning over the back of the sofa to drop a kiss to the top of her head. "Although I still need to give you my present."

"Your present was coming with me tonight, and enduring Sunday—"

"Can't a man indulge his girlfriend on her birthday?" he teased, before turning and slipping into the kitchen. Sybil frowned as she heard the sound of cabinets being opened. She was about to rise and see what he was up to, when suddenly the lights in her flat dimmed and Tom remerged from kitchen, his face illuminated by the flame of a single candle in a slice of cake that she immediately recognized from a bakery around the corner from the hospital where she was training.

"Happy birthday, love," he grinned, setting the cake down in front of her.

"Tom!" she was grinning from ear to ear and looking at the cake as if he had just given her a priceless piece of jewelry.

He smiled and leaned over the couch, his lips hovering near hers. "Make a wish," he whispered.

Sybil licked her lips and shook her head, still grinning, though looking more interested in kissing him than indulging in her cake. "Don't need to, it already came true."

He moved just before her lips met his, causing her to pout and him to chuckle. "More time for that soon, love," he winked, which naturally caused her to blush. "But let me get you a fork so you can properly enjoy your cake."

"Be sure to get one for yourself as well!" Sybil insisted as he disappeared again into the kitchen. She put the cake down on the table, the flame still burning and her face glowing in its light. She wrapped her arms around herself and smiled, a wonderful, loving feeling washing over her. Last year, her birthday had been quite the opposite. Rose had "surprised" her by taking speed-dating, and every man she encountered was either a creeper who had more conversations with her breasts than her face, or an arrogant ass who couldn't be bothered to hear what she had to say. That had been an utter disaster and Sybil was prepared to throw the towel in completely when it came to romance and relationships…

Again, she couldn't help but giggle at the strange way life could sometimes be; who would have thought that her Mr. Right could be found at a strip club of all places?

Speaking of her Mr. Right, he was taking an awful long time when he was just going to fetch them a pair of forks. And he hadn't turned the lights back on either. She twisted her body on the couch, looking towards the kitchen. "Tom? Is everything alright?"

Suddenly, the voice of Elvis Presley filled the air.

Lord almighty,
I feel my temperature rising
Higher higher
Its burning through to my soul

Sybil practically jumped at the sound. What on earth…?

Girl, girl, girl
You gonna set me on fire
My brain is flaming
I don't know which way to go

She started to rise, but stopped short and stared…her jaw dropping (and no doubt hitting the floor) as Tom emerged…in an outfit he had not been wearing five minutes ago.

His jeans had been replaced with a pair of black trousers; his shoes had been replaced with a pair of work boots, and his shirt…well, that was completely gone, and draped across his broad shoulders was a jacket—a fireman's jacket.

Sybil's eyes widened as she drank in the sight of him. The jacket was open, offering a wonderful glimpse of his muscular chest and flat stomach. Tom clearly noticed how she was looking at him, because the sound of his knowing chuckle was the only thing that snapped her eyes back up to his face, where he wore a very cheeky, and very sexy grin.

Sybil swallowed and opened her mouth to say something, but sometime between the time he had gone into the kitchen to get them forks and had returned in his current state, she had forgotten how to form coherent words.

Tom gave a light cough, and then did his best to adopt a look of seriousness (or as serious as one could be in such a situation). "Best be careful, milady…I understand that there's a fire."

Sybil stared at him for a long moment, and then found herself shaking her head, as if attempting to wake herself from her stupor. "I…I um…fire?"

Tom nodded, removing the helmet he was wearing (she hadn't even realized he was wearing that until he took it off, letting his sexy dirty-blonde hair become all tousled), before approaching her, his hands gripping the edges of his jacket.

Had he said something about fire? Because yes…things did feel rather hot…and Sybil swore the heat was radiating off his body…

"Ah, there's the source," Tom announced, pointing at the nearly burnt out candle in the now forgotten piece of cake. Without warning, he grasped Sybil about the waist and she gasped as she felt herself being swept up into her boyfriend's powerful arms, and carried away from the sofa and coffee table to "safety".

…Which just so happened to be the bedroom.

"Are you alright, milady?" he asked her in that low, sexy brogue of his. He put her down on her feet, but by no means did he let her go. Which was just as well, because Sybil wasn't sure she could stand on her own. "You weren't burned, were you?"

Burned? Oh heaven yes, she had been singed; his touch had that effect on her.

"I…" Sybil blushed and looked up at him, and then found her eyes falling to that space where his chest and neck met, the skin visible for her to see (and at the same level as her lips). God, did he know how sexy he was? The effect he had on her? "I'm afraid there's still a fire…" she whispered, her eyes lifting to his…and her body pressing itself a little closer.

Tom lifted his brows at this information. "Still?" he murmured, his body pressing against hers a little firmer, causing her to gasp at the feel of his obvious arousal. "Then we need to put it out, don't we?"

Sybil bit her lip and nodded her head, her breathing quickening as her eyes darted between his and his mouth. Her fingers had now curled around the edges of his jacket and were gripping it so tightly, her knuckles had gone white. "Yes," she whispered, leaning and pressing closer. "Desperately."

Tom's own hands were gripping the fabric of her shirt from behind. He leaned closer, his lips only a breath away. "Tell me where the fire is love…"

Sybil didn't answer, at least not with words. She couldn't take the tension any longer, her hands released his jacket and flew to the back of his head, her fingers threading in his hair and pulling his head down to her eager, desperate lips, no doubt bruising them with how hard she was kissing him.

Not that he seemed to mind, in fact he was kissing her back with same pressure and passion she was feeling, moaning and gasping against her mouth as their tongues slid along each other, deepening the kiss more and more, their bodies rocking and rubbing against the other, while his own hands started to lift and bunch up the fabric of her shirt, needed to get it off, needing them both to remove every barrio of clothing as soon as possible!

Your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love

They separated only long for Sybil to rid herself of her shirt, Tom already unfastening her bra from behind, while her own fingers reached inside his jacket and ran over the muscular contours of his chest, delighting in the sound of his moans as her fingers ran across his skin. Tom was soon returning the favor, and Sybil whimpered as she felt his own clever fingers cup and caress her breasts, palming them and making the nipples even harder. He fell to his knees then, his mouth fastening on one heated nipple, making her flesh even hotter while he kissed, licked, and sucked at the bud, her fingers in his hair, cradling his head to her body, while his own were tugging her skirt and leggings down, along with her knickers, doing everything he could to get her naked and quickly.

"Ooohhh Tom, yes," she gasped, as she felt his fingers slide up her thigh, the heat and the moisture from her body practically dripping. She was like molten fire, her body so aroused. He kissed down her stomach, his hands gripping her hips, and Sybil's eyes flew open and a high, keening cry escaped her lips, as she felt his tongue dart out lap at her clit.

His face nuzzled closer, and despite Tom's firm grip on her hips, she felt her legs give out beneath her. Thankfully, however, she simply fell back onto her bed, which was exactly what Tom wanted, as it gave him even better access to her core, and before Sybil could blink, he had her legs spread and hoisted up and over his shoulders, and his hands were gripping her hips again and his face was happily buried against the heat of her sex, licking and lapping and driving her mad.

"TOM!" she was practically screaming as she thrashed on the bed, but he only growled and held her tighter, his vigor not relenting in the slightest. It didn't take long for her body to start convulsing in the tremors of orgasm, but if that was meant to be a sign for him to stop, he didn't. He continued his sweet torture, making love to her with his tongue and fingers, two quickly thrusting in and out of her core while his mouth paid close attention to her clit. Sybil screamed again, her second orgasm following close on the heels of her first. "Tom! Tom! TOM!"

Slowly, agonizingly, he started to kiss up her body after a few more wonderful, lingering licks, pausing to blow some "cooling" air on her nipples, before finally reaching her lips and kissing her again, his forehead pressed against hers…while his own arousal, very much in need of release and relief from the feel of him, pressed against her thigh.

"I did what I could, milady," he whispered. "But I can't seem to put your fire out…"

Sybil moaned and shook her head. "It's a raging inferno, I'm afraid," she managed to pant.

He grinned and kissed her again, before pushing himself away, but only long enough to start shrugging off the jacket.

"No, don't!"

Tom paused and looked down at her, his eyebrow lifting in interest. "You want me to keep this on?"

Sybil blushed, but bashfully smiled and nodded her head. She had asked him to do that in the past with the chauffeur's jacket (which they still hadn't managed to return to the club); there was just something very sexy about Tom making love to her while wearing a jacket.

He shrugged the jacket back onto his shoulders, but wasted no time in kicking off the boots and gripping the fabric of his trousers, a quick causing the Velcro at the sides to rip and release the fabric from his body.

"Oh!" Sybil gasped, both at the realization of what he had been wearing (no doubt something from his "stripper days") and at reveal of his hard erection which looked to be painfully throbbing and just as desperate for relief as her body had felt.

"AHHHhhh!" Tom hissed as Sybil reached out and wrapped her fingers around his cock, wasting no time in pumping and sliding her hand up and down his length. He groaned and his eyes fluttered shut, his knees going weak as she continued her sweet ministrations.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with a fire that needs to be put out," she grinned, leaning close and kissing the head.

"Sweet Jesus, Sybil, I'm not going to last if you do that, I need you, now, please," he all but begged, the seducer now at the mercy of his lady.

She understood and wanted him inside her just as badly. She scooted back on the bed, spreading her legs and welcoming him to her, grabbing the edges of his jacket once more and pulling him down, their lips crashing together in a hot, searing kiss, his hands running down her thighs and gripping her hips, while her legs wrapped around body, pulling him even closer.

With one, deep thrust, he was inside her, and they both threw their heads back and gasped at the connection. They had made love countless times since that first night in his limo, but something about this encounter just seemed…hotter.

There was no other word for it, it was exactly that. Hotter. They were both on fire, both desperate for release, but at the same time, both wanting to be burned so badly.

Tom drove himself hard into her; this was not going to be a soft and gentle round of lovemaking. This was going to be fast and fierce, and they would have it no other way.

They were both clawing at each other, their mouths fighting for dominance while at the same time wanting to submit completely to the other. Sybil lifted her hips and responded to each thrust, her legs only squeezing him tighter with every movement. Tom's hands moved under her body, until he was gripping her rump, pulling her closer every time he thrusted, needing her more, needing to be closer, deeper, needing to be consumed completely!

The music was still playing in the background, the song was nearing completion as Elvis' voice sped up.

Im just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love

"Oh God, Tom—TOM!" Sybil screamed, her body shaking and squeezing his as another orgasm took control.

"Yes, Sybil, yes, YES!" he roared, his body like a piston, thrusting two more times, then three, and then he felt her own wonderful body, her core milking his cock and squeezing him like a silken vice, and with another roar, he came inside her, hard.

He collapsed on top of her, his face pressed against her neck and shoulder. "Oh God, Sybil…" he groaned, his entire being even more sensitive than usual after a furious round of love making. On shaky arms, he lifted his himself, just a little and grinned at the beautiful, happy, and very satisfied smile that was spreading across her lovely lips. He couldn't resist, he leaned up and kissed her, to which she purred and happily returned.

"Mmmmm…" she opened her eyes to gaze back at him, and Tom carefully rolled them onto their sides, their bodies still connected, his own still trapped in the softness of her legs. "Thank you for my present," she giggled.

Tom chuckled and kissed her again. "Happy birthday, love."

"Yes it was," she sighed in that content way that always made his chest swell with pride. Sex with Sybil was the best sex he had ever experienced, but it was only good when he knew she had been satisfied. That, for him, was always the biggest turn on.

"Well, not to sound 'frightfully full of myself'," he teased, nuzzling her cheek. "But it's not over yet. There are still two more hours until midnight…"

"You," she groaned before playfully swatting his shoulder. Not that she was against the idea. She sighed and stretched a little before turning her face back to his, her nose nuzzling his just slightly. "I don't think it worked, though," she murmured.

Tom frowned. "What?" He was confused; he swore she had—?

"Despite our best efforts, I'm afraid the fire is still burning."

Oh. Tom relaxed and even chuckled. "Well, we'll just have to keep trying, I suppose."

Sybil nodded her head, and then turned her attention to his jacket. "And where did this come from?"

"Oh that," Tom sighed, looking down at jacket and running his fingers across it. "While you were out with your sisters, I stopped by the club to ask Thomas for a favor."

Sybil had wondered about that. "Thomas still demanding the whereabouts to your livery jacket?"

Tom laughed. "I think he's figured that we have it; he did mutter something about 'make sure I get this back' when I asked to borrow the fireman costume. But I think he's retired the chauffeur act; apparently no one can do it justice like me," he winked.

Sybil swatted him again, though she had to agree with Thomas on that count.

"Did you like it?" Tom asked, cuddling her closer to him.

Sybil blushed and bit her lip, but bashfully nodded her head in response.

Tom chuckled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad; I just couldn't help it, after our 'discussion' the other night."

Sybil looked at him with a bit of a frown. "But this is nothing like that."

Now Tom was frowning. "Nothing like that—what do you mean?"

Despite the frown she had put on, Sybil made it quite clear that she had been teasing him. "Well," she said, sitting up slightly and folding her arms across her chest. "In our 'discussion', 'fireman!Tom' took me to another room, away from 'danger'—"

"Which I did do—"

"Yes, you did, but—" she gave him a haughty look with her nose in the air just slightly (her "Lady Sybil face" as he called it). "—I never received my dance."

Tom's eyes widened and now he was sitting up too, looming over her just a little bit. "So you feel you were 'robbed' of a dance, is that it?"

Sybil was biting her lip again, but she couldn't stop from giggling, no matter how serious she tried to look. "Well, you did say that you're now a proud and happy 'dancer for one'…"

Tom groaned, and then disentangled himself from the bed before standing up, the jacket still on even though the rest of him was as naked as the day he was born. Sybil watched as he turned back towards the kitchen, her eyes glued to his backside which peeked out from edge of the jacket. A few seconds later he was back, the small portable stereo which had been playing Elvis in his hands. Without a word, Tom put the stereo down on her nightstand, and hit play, and once again, the King's voice filled the air.

Its coming closer
The flames are reaching my body
Please wont you help me
I feel like Im slipping away
Its hard to breath
And my chest is a-heaving

"Far be it from me to leave a lady unsatisfied," he growled as he bent down and scooped her up, much like he had done that night at the club when he had first danced for her, his arms around her waist and her legs wrapped around his body as he gyrated his hips suggestively against her.

Lord almighty,
Im burning a hole where I lay
Cause your kisses lift me higher
Like the sweet song of a choir
You light my morning sky
With burning love!