Fireman Daddy: a Crescent Cove Bite

Home > Other > Fireman Daddy: a Crescent Cove Bite > Page 4
Fireman Daddy: a Crescent Cove Bite Page 4

by Quinn, Taryn


  Walking bowlegged wasn’t a boast. I might not be able to walk at all.

  And I was so on board.

  I curled my fingers into his belt loops and dragged him closer. His jaw tightened as the broad head of his cock slid into me. He watched—unabashedly—the first deep stroke.

  I arched my back and blew out a breath. It had been a damn long time since anyone had been inside me. My nails dug into his pecs as he pushed my legs open enough to make room for himself.

  “God, you’re splitting me apart.”

  “You’re so goddamn tight.” He stilled, letting me get used to him. I could see that it was killing him to stop. Every muscle in his body tensed, and a single bead of sweat slithered through his chest hair and hit my finger. “Freckles?”

  “More.” I gripped him tighter, but I needed him to move. My hips undulated lightly. The sensory memory of the act was there, even if it had never felt anything like this.

  His size was staggering.

  Jake was everything I never knew I needed. Everything I was afraid to want.

  He reached down and dragged his knuckle around the top of my pussy where we were joined. And then, just like before, he found my clit like he had some GPS coordinates for just what I needed.

  He left me, then his hips snapped forward and…

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  There was nothing but Jake. Around me, inside me, over me. He braced himself with his forearm, and his mouth sealed us together completely. I curled my arms around his shoulders, wound my legs around his hips and held on.

  Arching into him, we found our rhythm.

  I clung to him like a lifeline as I raced for that feeling from before. The heady, brain busting orgasm that pushed aside the noise that always seemed to live inside of me. Tension coiled inside me while the oncoming pleasure dissipated in a rush of fear.

  “Erica.”

  His dark, low voice saying my name snapped me out of it.

  He pushed back my hair and cradled my face as he burrowed into me. “Here with me. Stop thinking about whatever is going on in there.” He nipped my bottom lip. “Here.” His hand slipped down to my chest. “I feel your heart racing.” He shifted to grip my hip. “I feel you clasping that sweet pussy around me.”

  My breath stalled. That he had so many words rocked me. It always seemed like they were lodged in my brain and would never come out. Not with my family, not with my husband, not with my friends.

  He slipped out of me.

  “No, Jake. I’m—”

  What?

  I’m sorry? Please fuck me some more?

  Dios.

  He sat on the pool table, and then hauled me up to straddle his lap. His long legs were outstretched, and he’d shoved down his jeans to his knees.

  He lifted me, his arms bulging with muscles. “Put me inside you.”

  I fumbled between us, gripping him and stroking his shaft before pressing him along my slit. So big and so hot. The friction of the hair on his thighs buzzed against my skin as I slowly positioned him.

  He growled. “What are you waiting for?”

  I shook back my hair, my sudden giggle surprising me. “You’re the one who changed our positions, buddy.”

  He seized my hips and dropped me down on him hard enough that my teeth snapped together. Quickly, he switched his hold so his huge fingers dug into as much of my ass and hips as he could reach.

  I’d thought the little bit of friction before was good. Now?

  Now there was no escaping this. I was on top, making everything between us even more intimate.

  I rocked against him, and he hit a certain incredible spot inside me again and again. White-hot pleasure swamped me. The tremors started at my toes, locking all my nerve endings in an endless loop of sensory indulgence. I shuddered around him, holding him fast as he suddenly took my mouth, hot and hard.

  I gripped his shoulders and trusted the fall.

  Trusted that I wouldn’t end up covered in gravel and glass.

  Trusted that he’d be with me.

  I opened my eyes. Our gazes locked, and the flood of him inside me triggered my own orgasm.

  One of his hands ended up in my hair as he clamped me against him, pulsing inside of me like nothing I’d ever known.

  I didn’t even realize tears were falling until he brushed them away with his thumbs. Our kiss went from nearly feral to languid and soft.

  I sighed and laid my cheek against his chest. His heart thundered in time with my own.

  Just sex?

  What a lie.

  Seven

  “Big sis!”

  “Oh, shit.” Erica scrambled off me and flew around the back of the bar.

  Sweet Jesus, my dick was still wet from her, and she’d already moved so far across the room it seemed as if she was in a different state.

  She crouched low to button up her dress. “Would you put that thing away?” she whispered frantically.

  My thing didn’t really appreciate the new nickname, but I hitched up my jeans and tucked myself behind my zipper. I was pulling my shirt over my head when Erica’s youngest sister, Gina Ramos, came around the corner.

  She paused on the threshold between the entrance and the main part of the bar before she looked my way with a raised brow. Then she scanned the rest of the room and crossed her arms with a sly smile. “Well, hello, Chief Mills.”

  I blew out a breath. Great. Lunch at the diner was going to get a little weird. “Gina.”

  Freckles popped up from behind the bar, her buttons semi-straight save for the ones holding in her magnificent breasts.

  Gina pressed her lips together, glancing from me to her and then back again. “How’d the meeting go?”

  I tucked in my shirt and grabbed my jacket from the floor. “As well as can be expected.”

  “I bet.” Gina cocked her hip. “So, did you convince my stubborn big sister to stick around for more than a few days?” She tucked her tongue in her cheek. “Maybe you used some of your persuasive talents?”

  I wasn’t going there.

  “I have to head back to the city today.”

  My gaze swung to Freckles. Funny how she hadn’t mentioned that earlier. “Is that so?”

  “It’s called work. You might have heard of it. Just as you may have given me a three-page list of things to fix thanks to your job.”

  “Freckles—”

  “Stop calling me that.” She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “How did you actually think this bar would get fixed? Sharkey didn’t leave me with much more than the land itself and a few thousand dollars to fix it.”

  “I told you we’d help you.”

  “No, actually, you really didn’t.” She stormed across the bar to stand in front of me and jammed her finger into my chest. “You’re too busy telling me exactly what’s wrong with my bar.” She heaved out a breath. “The bar.”

  I swallowed a smile. Now was definitely not the time to grin down at her. Mostly because I wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t rip my lips off my face. Or worse. But that little slip—my bar—gave me way more hope than was probably wise.

  Because she was right. I had only been giving her a laundry list of problems. Riding in to save her wasn’t the right way to go at all. We weren’t seventeen anymore.

  “I can help.”

  She seemed to finally register that her sister was in the room as well. Well, beyond the shocked and naked deal. She tipped her head toward Gina. “Why?”

  Gina’s eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean why? You’re my sister.”

  That was a very good question. My family was very small. Just me and my sister were left. I’d literally hand her my arm if she asked for it. The Ramos family had always seemed much the same.

  “Manita, of course.”

  “Don’t start that. Yes, you’re my big sister and I love you, but if you’d just let us come down and help you, this could be done without a ton of money. Sei così testardo.”

  I never knew if they were speak
ing Spanish or Italian or a bastardization of both, but I knew that one. Every single Ramos woman—and man, for that matter—were stubborn as hell.

  “I don’t want Damien and Papa coming in here fighting.”

  “The guys want to come in to help.” I held up my hand before the women had a chance to dismiss my offer. “This has become the fire station’s favorite bar. In fact, we had intended to help Sharkey before he got sick.” I moved to Freckles and took her hand. “Let us help you.”

  “I don’t even know if I want to keep the bar. I don’t want you guys to spend money and all that if it’s just going to get torn down.”

  I rocked back on my heels and dropped her hand. “So, Maitland has contacted you.”

  “Of course, he has.” She paced away from me.

  I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “And your answer?”

  “My answer is I don’t know.” She widened her arms. “This is a ton of work and I have a job already.”

  “So you keep saying,” I muttered.

  “I have a life in the city.” She put her hands on her hips. “I haven’t lived here in years, Jake. I’m just supposed to uproot myself and move back?”

  Yes.

  That was exactly what I wanted her to do. There was nothing to stop her—stop us. Danny was part of our past, but he hadn’t been a factor in my life since freshman year of college. I’d had no intention of sticking around to wait to see when or if he would propose to the woman I loved, and he hadn’t done much to prolong our friendship.

  Made me think he’d probably done the same with their marriage.

  I had no patience for waiting her out. But that was exactly what I needed to do. To show her that this place was exactly where she was supposed to be. “Then come back next weekend, and we’ll work on the place together.”

  Her cheeks heated, and her gaze dropped to my mouth. I nearly groaned with the need to cross to her and show her all the reasons to stay, but my dick was going to have to take a backseat right now. I had to play the long game.

  “I’ll round up the guys.” I turned to Gina. “You get your family to come down here, and we’ll see just what we can do with it.”

  I stepped in front of Freckles, dragging my thumb over her swollen lower lip. I wanted more of her. I needed to make her see just how good we were together, but that kind of power play wasn’t the way to go.

  Dropping my hand, I stepped away from her and her seductive scent. “Then you can make your decision.”

  And I’d do everything I could to change her mind about Crescent Cove and this bar.

  And us.

  Eight

  I pulled into the gravel parking lot on the following bright and sunny Friday afternoon. I’d managed to get out of work a few hours early, so I didn’t have to fight traffic out of the city. Of course, Manhattanites were more likely to head to Long Island or New Jersey for the weekend than to drive four hours to central New York.

  I’d almost taken a flight, but I would have ended up coming in even later. So, here I was putting another couple hundred miles on my car.

  But the trip upstate reminded me how much I liked driving, and I’d actually handled three meetings on the way, thanks to the Bluetooth in my car.

  Now I could focus on the bar this weekend.

  A half dozen cars were in the parking lot as I approached from the back entrance. An ancient pickup truck with more rust than paint full of lumber and tools was backed up to the loading dock. The back door of the bar was open, and a familiar redhead was smoking as she held the door for a trio of burly guys.

  I parked and grabbed my bag. I slammed my door and growled under my breath. “Jake.”

  At least I’d dressed the part this time, wearing old jeans, sturdy boots, and a layer of long-sleeved and short-sleeved T-shirts in deference to the early spring temperatures.

  I jogged to meet a fourth man carrying lumber on his shoulder.

  “Ma’am.” He adjusted the stack of boards he was hauling. “We’re not open yet.”

  “I know. I’m the owner.”

  “Oh.” He smiled broadly. “You want to talk to Mills then.”

  “Considering he’s not the owner, you’re damn right I do.”

  The ridiculously jacked man in front of me didn’t seem frightened or offended. He just grinned, a dimple popping from his trendy scruff. He was wearing a slouchy navy knit hat and an EMT T-shirt that stretched across his impressive chest. “He’s inside.”

  I marched in ahead of him, my ire growing with the laughter behind me and the banging and loud male noises ahead. Rita gave me a salute and held the door for me as I stalked inside. Jake was in the middle of a half dozen men, one being my brother.

  Perfect. Just what I needed. We’d sort of discussed having people come to the bar to help, but I thought I’d have today to figure out a game plan. My older brother thinking he could take over meant my father would be next, followed by…

  Yep. There she was. Along the back of the eating area was a long table loaded with food, courtesy of my mother. She was shouting out orders for the boys to hydrate and eat as all good Italian-slash-Spanish women did.

  I was not a good woman.

  I wasn’t feeding these animals.

  Okay, that was a lie. I’d totally have fed them if I’d known they were coming. If I’d made the damn decisions.

  Damien and Jake had their heads together over some sort of plans. My brother’s handiwork, I was sure.

  “Excuse me. Move, please.” I pushed through the men. Far too many of them were congregated around the bar area, and all of them towered over me.

  Two of them were draping the game area with drop cloths, and another three were taking care of the floor. Paint cans were stacked against the right side of the main room, and drywall was being installed on the left.

  “Who paid for this?”

  Jake held up one finger while he finished talking to my brother.

  I stalked over to him and grabbed it and bent it back until he yelped. “Do not put your finger up at me when I’m asking a question about my bar.”

  “Okay, okay. Ease up, Freckles.” I released him, and he shook out his hand. “Impressive technique.”

  “Do not try to be charming. What are you doing here? And who authorized these purchases?” I swung around to my brother. “And who invited you?”

  Damien grinned. “Nice to see you too, hermanita.”

  “Don’t make me slap that smile off you. I told you I was handling this.”

  “And I’m sure you can do it well, but we wanted to get a jump on things. It’s just drywall and primer, piccola.”

  I hated when he called me that. Yes, I was the tiniest of the siblings, but we were close in age and it was insulting.

  All of them doing this without even consulting me as if I couldn’t possibly know the next step to take was really freaking insulting too.

  “Freckles—”

  “I have a name. I’d appreciate if everyone used it.” My voice rose to a screech. Enough that I could feel the flush creeping up my neck and heading for my cheeks. I couldn’t stand feeling out of control, and no part of this bar situation was sitting right with me.

  My mother started clapping for attention. “All right, off you go to work. Let me talk to my daughter.”

  “Mami,” I muttered.

  Her dark eyes flashed at me, and I bit my tongue. “You go over there—” She gestured to the food-laden table. “Now.”

  I ignored her directive. I’d pay for it later, but I needed air. And lots of it.

  I headed for the front vestibule. Another half dozen firefighters and EMTs were working on the porch. My shoulders were tight and I knew I was being an ungrateful shit, but everything was going on without my say so.

  This was exactly why I’d left Crescent Cove. I hated that everyone got into everyone else’s business. The chaos made me mental.

  I mumbled thanks to the guys for their work and hurried down the makeshift stairs they had se
t up. I stalked across the parking lot and followed the gravel-strewn path to the road. I needed to walk off some of this anger. The lake was so close, I could taste the water on the air. The one thing I did miss was the lake. Maybe if I saw it, it would help me chill the hell out.

  “Freckles.”

  I stiffened at Jake’s voice and kept walking.

  “Erica, come on.”

  My name sounded wrong on his lips and that pissed me off even more. I whirled around. “You cannot take over my life.”

  “We talked about having everyone come in and start the renos. Remember?”

  “Yeah, we talked about it. There was no plan.” I put my hands on my hips. “Actually, let me be clear. No plan I was involved in.”

  “You were in the city. I figured I’d start it for you.”

  “You figured.” We were on the side of the road, and people were blaring their horns as they drove by.

  He hooked his hand through my arm and pulled me back toward the parking lot. “Would you just listen?”

  “Please enlighten me. Because I love when people make all the decisions for me.”

  He raked his fingers through his freshly shorn hair. I tried not to get distracted by the fact that his beard was also trimmed, and he was ridiculously handsome in his aviator sunglasses. He had on an old navy CCFD T-shirt that had been through so many washings it had shrunk enough to cling to his wide chest.

  Not the time for getting distracted. I was mad at him.

  He crowded into me and cupped my face. “You’re strong and perfect and don’t need help from anyone. But I want to help. I want to show you I can be the kind of guy who is here for you.”

  Shocked, I lifted my hands to his wrists and didn’t stop him when he bent down and kissed me right in front of everyone. The mouth I hated that I’d missed for a week.

  The taste that had stalked me all week long—especially in dreams.

  I went up on my toes and kissed him back. There were whoops and whistles coming from the porch, and right then, I didn’t even care. Damn him and his talented mouth and capable hands that made me want things I thought I’d never want again.

  The scary little part that always secretly wanted this man.

 

‹ Prev