FILF_Fireman I'd like to...

by Savannah May

  I’m in my gym before dawn, running hard then lifting heavy to pummel my body into submission.

  “You’re early,” Grace says softly, emerging from the house and pulling the door firmly shut behind her.

  She comes down the path toward me where I’m stopped in stunned amazement.

  “Don’t look so horrified.” She laughs shyly.

  “That’s not horror, that’s stunned admiration,” I husk out. Christ, my mouth almost slipped into the word adoration. Every one of my limbs is pulsating with renewed desire for her. I never would have dreamed she could put herself together so perfectly after seeing the dump she lives in. She’s like a different woman, but still the same challenging, partly insecure girl on the cusp of something. “You look incredible.”

  She smiles at that, hearing the genuine wonderment in my voice, no casual line. Her confidence visibly picks up and she sashays down the path toward toward me as I watch, my smile stretching my jaw muscles.

  When she comes about a foot away she does a little twirl for me. Her high heel catches in the broken cement of the walkway and she stumbles. One second she’s going down, next she’s in my arms. Her soft flesh is pressed into my shield of freshly-pumped chest, lining my torso. Her curves sliding into my ridges makes my cock stiffen in moments.

  She tips her face up to me, eyes wide with expectation, maybe a tremor of fear. Surely she can feel the bulge of me pulsating against her stomach. Does she think I’m going to attack her right here on the sidewalk? What is she so scared of?

  I thread her arm through mine and walk her back to the car where Henry stands with the door open for us.

  She leans forward to climb in and her dress tightens around her perfect ass. Shit, the bride is going to be seriously upstaged at this wedding. And I have no idea how I’m going to keep my hands off Grace for the entire day but the knowledge that I can keep her beside me for all of it is incredible. As I slide in behind her and Henry closes the door on us, all I want to do is push her back along the seat and ravage every inch of her.

  She smiles at me nervously, as though she knows what I’m thinking. Then I remember what an ordeal this must be for her, now that I know about her buried lack of confidence. Today, I’m determined to slash through that and make her sense of her own worth grow. As I take her hand in mine, I realize again how much I’m actually looking forward to spending the whole day with Grace.

  “You look so breath-takingly beautiful,” I tell her, “those flowers I got you pale in comparison.” That may have sounded cheesy but Grace laughs out loud and I can tell she’s happy. That feels exceptionally strange to me, that I should be satiated by my date’s contentment.

  “Honestly?” she whispers. “I’ve been up since five so I could get into the bathroom. Alone.”

  “I’m sure that place is tough for you.” She shrugs me off but her face tightens and I know I’m right.

  “Thank you for the bouquet. Are they, um, dahlias?”

  “Peonies. Let’s have a glass of champagne,” I add, pulling open the bar and pouring from the bottle I opened just before picking her up.

  “Isn’t it a little early to start drinking,” she says, looking around as though she might get in trouble, forgetting we’re entirely secure in our own little universe in back of my car.

  “A toast to the happy couple.”

  “Is that what we are?” she stammers.

  “I meant the bride and groom,” I say, squeezing her fingers.

  “Oh right,” she whispers. “But I really shouldn’t. I’m not supposed to.” “I won’t tell if you won’t,” I say with a wicked glint.

  I can see that barrier wobbling and Grace trying to shore it up against what must seem like the tornado of my seduction.

  “What happened to you, Gracie?”

  Her eyes flick immediately to the back of Henry’s head. Like the thought of him knowing anything about her makes her squeamish. I hit the button that slides the screen into place and turn toward her. But not before I hand her the flute with an insistent gaze, insisting she share with me. Then I settle back, my knee crooked under me so I can swivel and give Grace my entire attention.

  “I was sent away,” she whispers in a very small voice, it would be almost indecipherable if I weren’t paying such close attention.

  “I already knew you’d been in the system. We both know that I give work experience to women in your situation to help them get back on their feet.”

  “Yeah but I bet you never took one of those women out on the town before.”

  “That’s true. I know it goes against code to ask but what were you in for?”

  She squirms and for a moment I think she’s going to clam right up. I pick up her hand again, wrapping her in my fist and she makes an effort.

  “For being an idiot,” she says.

  I wait, not letting that be all she tells me. I want to know all of her.

  She inhales all the air in the car.

  “I was caught carrying.” “You were made a mule against your will?” “You think I’m way more innocent than I am. I knew what I was doing but I never made anything out of it other than the fantasy that Carl, the guy that asked me to do it, really liked me.” I wrap Grace under my bicep and she instinctively settles into the hard curves and ridges of my chest and underarm. It’s like she was created to be there.

  “Everyone does crazy things for love and to be loved,” I tell her.

  She sighs.

  “I don’t feel like I’ll ever truly get over this. Not the love part although I know I have walls up against being tricked by a man.” “It takes time. You have to take it slow so you know it’s safe to give your trust.”

  “Was that slow for you? Our first meeting?” she asks.

  “What can I say? I was bowled over by you. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” “Slumming it.” “Why do you always talk about yourself like that?” “I shouldn’t.” “No you really shouldn't.” “I don’t mean to be victimy, it’s like I said, I feel that shame is ingrained in me now, like a tattoo branding my skin forever.”

  “You aren’t being a victim by sharing the way you feel with me. I want you to do that.”

  “You do? Why?”

  “So you can let out your emotions and move through this sense you’re not good enough.” “You don’t think I’m damaged goods?”

  “You may be for now, but like a perfect piece of porcelain, you can be put back together.”

  “But the cracks will always be there.” “Not if they’re repaired by the master.”

  She lifts her head to gaze up at me and it takes a whole lot of strength not to press my mouth onto hers and show her how precious she is. First she has to find that for herself but that doesn't mean I can’t show her the route.

  Chapter 17

  Grace

  Against all my expectations, Hopper doesn’t turn cold. He doesn’t nail on me or change his attitude toward me at all. After the way he skedaddled off as fast as his limo could carry him after dropping me home last night, I half expected that he wouldn't show for me.

  He’d told me what time to be ready but I lay awake half the night sure that he was covering his bases until he could find someone else. I never expected him to show. Which I guess goes to show that it doesn’t do any good to anticipate bad outcomes for everything.

  Telling him about what happened and not having him do a complete turnabout on me is liberating. When we pull up at the venue, Hopper climbs out of the back seat behind me and takes my hand like a real boyfriend. He must see how gobsmacked I am by the mansion sitting on a manicured lawn that sweeps down to a sparkling ocean.

  “It’s okay, it’s just a house,” he whispers, tipping down to my ear so his face gets entangled in my hair. Just that makes my insides go all skittery. Hopper does crazy things to my body just by coming close. Just with a few fingers grazing over my skin. I can’t help but wonder what he’d do if he had me stripped naked, alone, where he could do whatever he wanted with me.
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br />   “Such a big one,” I murmur. If he hadn’t informed me it was a private house on the way here, I’d have assumed it was a hotel or some kind of private yacht club.

  “Yeah, well they still have bathrooms they have to use like normal people. Just think of that if anyone tries to intimidate you.”

  He makes me laugh with his irreverence for the upper class society. That relaxes me and I lean into the side of his chest, relishing the solidity of the flexing muscle.

  Hopper tucks my arm through his and I have a momentary fantasy of me being the bride today and him my groom. I have to push that out fast. With me on his arm, he still keeps his fingers entwined through mine, resting on his thick forearm. I’m sure he does it to keep my heart skittering around in my chest from the heat of his touch. He leads me up the wide steps to the magnificent entrance and we enter.

  A table fit for a king’s breakfast is set up in the foyer and piled high with gifts. Henry follows us and sets an exquisitely wrapped box down before retreating. I half wish I could go with him. He’s bound to have way more fun in the servants quarters. If that’s what you call them. I only know that word from watching Downtown Abbey inside jail. And taking a lot of shit from the women for being stuck up and not watching Idol or Big Brother, or all the other endless reality shows they watched to take themselves away from their unreal personal reality. A great favorite with the inmates was the millionaire matchmaker show. They’d shout catcalls at the contestant hunting down a wife, offering him all sorts of lewd opportunities if he cared to spring them out of prison. If those women could see me now, what the hell would they think of me, Grace Hart, being a player on one of those types of dates with my own billionaire?

  I’m feeling pretty good about myself. Knowing that Hopper thinks I’m beautiful and walking into the glamorous celebration on his arm. We certainly attract a lot of stares. Too many actually. The nerves pick up in my tummy as I quiz myself on why everyone’s looking at us.

  “Hopper, Darling, you’re here at last.”

  A stunning woman with a curtain of red gold hair falling in waves over one shoulder, envelops Hopper in her arms. With a side swipe of her skinny elbow, she deftly manages to knock me out of his hold. A surge of annoyance flies through me, knowing that she shoved me on purpose. It’s swiftly followed by the impulse to wrench her off of my man.

  Calm down, Grace. He’s not yours. It’s probably better she has him. She looks more like his type.

  It seems like I can’t quite let myself believe in Hopper’s teasing of his people. I’m still anticipating the worst. I’ve just settled myself into the acceptance of the reality I see in front of me, when Hopper extracts himself firmly from the woman’s grasp. He reaches out for me and draws me in close, nestling me into the firm abs running down his right side. Why is my heart pounding like this all over again?

  “Sophie I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Grace Hart.”

  “Oh,” she mewls, with something like a pout, which looks dumb on a woman her age. She must be thirty easily because women in their twenties don’t Botox their face, do they? “I thought you brought a cousin or something. You never said you were off the market.”

  “Yes, we’ve been dating quietly for, how long is it now, Angel?” He turns to me and I gulp at being put on the spot. And at being called Angel in front of others. Sophie won’t stop squinting at me. Her face is like a pendulum switching between cuteness and loathing, depending on whether Hopper is looking at her or not. And I’m sure she recognizes me or something equally ridiculous.

  “Um, must be close to a year,” I announce, getting into the game.

  “A year, yeah that’s about right.” Hopper flashes his demonic grin and tugs me in closer to his broad chest.

  “Well you kept that very quiet,” Sophie says in her boarding school whine and looks me up and down, taking in everything. I’m sure she’s priced my entire outfit in her head and I’m relieved I didn't try to pass off anything I own for this gig. Hopper was so right to send me out with his charge card. Under Sophie’s relentless scrutiny, I’d have had to slink out back to the other side of the tracks where I belong.

  Hopper doesn’t seem to mind her eagle-eyed inspection. He even seems to be relishing the joke we’re playing. His smile is huge as we wander around the cocktail party, getting into full swing now that it’s noon. He hands me another glass of champagne and leans in to whisper in my ear.

  “You’re the most gorgeous woman here, you know?” His breath tickles at the top of my lobe and makes me shiver. I don’t really believe that, but I’m glad he says it. My nerves recede like a wave with his reassurance. All of a sudden it seems I really don’t want to let him down playing my part. And not only because of the huge stipend he’s paying me.

  “I hope I’m up to this challenge,” I say. “It feels like everyone swivels their heads to stare as we walk past. It’s more unnerving than a haunted house.”

  “They’re thinking the same as me – that you’re too beautiful to be real.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I laugh. “I’m a fake. The clothes are doing all the work, if I took them off I’d be a writhing hot mess.” “Is that a promise?” he smirks. “because I’m up for testing that particular challenge any time.”

  Before I get to reply, another willowy princess glides up to us. She opens her mouth to speak but before she does, Hopper, pretending he hadn’t noticed her, turns to me and plants a huge kiss on my mouth. The girl changes her mind and veers off toward the bar.

  “What was that?” I hiss. Smiling but letting him know he’s taking liberties. He’s blatantly ignoring the house rules and doing whatever he wants like always. Although my body is thumping, my lips trembling from the meeting with his firm ones.

  “We have to make it look genuine. You said yourself they’re all examining us. You’re a unique species. They’ve never seen me with a date before.” “Never?” I repeat, incredulously. I'm not sure whether to believe him. He says he runs in this circle so at at his age, how can he not once have been at an event with a girlfriend?

  “Not even once,” he grins.

  “So you’re a certified lone wolf?”

  “It’s always been too much hassle to keep up the dating game.”

  “So all this just to fend off some eager mothers.” “You have no idea how eager,” he says. “The last one caught me in the washroom and threw herself at me. Begging me to take her daughter in marriage and her body in the john.”

  “Oh my god,” I laugh.

  For all his experience and power, Hopper has a hysterically funny sense of humor about his world. He’s also so easy to be with, I feel like we’ve known each other way longer than a week. And I keep forgetting he’s my boss and I’m the minion hired to do a job here.

  “So do tell, ‘cause we’re all taking bets,” Sophie pops up at Hopper’s side and curls her fingers around his forearm, “Where did you two meet?”

  “It was at the...” Hopper starts.

  “No, I want to hear it from-” she interrupts him, “er, what was your name again?”

  “Her name is Grace,” Hopper announces, harshly. I get the feeling he doesn’t have much time for feminine wiles. I don’t either.

  “That’s it, Grace, of course,” Sophie says. “How did you meet my Darling Hopper?”

  “It was in Chicago, while he was there on business,” I say, coming up with a place I know he frequents and where I’m praying Sophie is less likely to have any acquaintance.

  “Oh, are you one of the Oak Park Harts?” she inquires.

  Damn.

  “Stop inquiring about my girlfriend’s pedigree,” Hopper rescues me smoothly. “You’ll have plenty of time to look her up in the social register.

  He moves us on out of Sophie’s reach but I’m shaking. I feel exposed and shame washes up into my gut.

  “What if she does?” I murmur through gritted but force-smiling teeth.

  “She’d have to learn the alphabet first.” he says.

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nbsp; I can’t help but laugh. His hand on my hip is distracting and comforting at the same time. I try to put the terror of being uncovered out of my mind.

  Chapter 18

  Hopper

  The event goes even better than I’d hoped. Grace looks absolutely incredible, every inch the perfect girlfriend. She’s as nervous as a little Bambi and I admit I like the way she clings to my arm throughout the afternoon. The vultures follow us everywhere as we move about the estate.

  I could feel their eyes on us and the snarky convos they were having with each other, picking faults that weren't even there. No wonder Grace was nervous. These women are venomous. If she drank a few too many glasses of champagne I couldn’t blame her.

  “No more,” I told her though, after she reached at a passing tray for another.

  “Last one,” she giggled.

  We sit on chairs lined on the beach for the wedding, facing the sunset. Grace moves to the edge of hers so her thigh presses into mine as though she’d like to merge into my strength and security. I feel a kind of security too, from her body lining mine. She’s turned out to be so much more than the beard I wanted as a shield from the hungry mob. Grace is gorgeous and feisty and smart. Any man would be happy to keep her around.

  Finally all the self-penned poetic vows of the torturous ceremony are over.

  “Let’s get a drink,” I tell her. Her face turns to me and I see her eyes are full of tears. “What is it, Baby?”

  Fuck, a wash of something unrecognizable flows through my gut. I put my arm around her and she rests her head on my shoulder, heaving interior sobs. I love how brave she is, making attempts to force down her emotion. But I also wish she felt free to exhale them all into my embrace so she could be free of them.