Groomed For Love: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance

by Flora Ferrari

  “I’m trying to be mad at you for calling me a kid and you’re asking me to move in… Telling me you called me that to prep your mom so she didn’t keel over when she finds out you’re shacked up with someone half your age?” she asks almost sarcastically.

  I frown in agreement, nodding my head.

  “That’s about the size of it. And my Brooklyn accent? It always comes out when I talk to her, it’s the only language she speaks,” I shrug.

  There’s a split second of relief in her eyes, and the tiniest hint of her lip about to curl into a smile. But it’s short-lived.

  “This is happening way too fast,” she says suddenly, her face creasing with worry all over again.

  I did want to take it slow, but she’s kinda forced my hand here.

  I don’t think it’s moving fast enough, but I figured she’d need a few days before I sprung the move in with me idea.

  Every cell in my body wants to get up, go over to her and take her in my arms.

  Take her back to bed so we can start over.

  But I know a little more about her now, and now is the right time to give Naomi a little space, but I don’t feel like giving her so much space that she leaves.

  “It’s been a big couple of days for you,” I reason with her. “We can take things slow. I’m just being honest about what you heard me say on the phone is all,” I remind her.

  She looks more confused than ever now, but at least she’s not so angry.

  “Listen,” I continue. “I said you should stay here for a few days anyway, at least until you figure out what you want. Ignore everything I just said if you want, but I can’t hide the fact I’m crazy about you even if I tried.”

  Her look softens and that lip quivers again.

  “Just don’t walk out of here, Naomi. Because I don’t think I’d make it if you did,” I tell her, my own voice cracking with emotion.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Naomi

  My brother Chet always tells me that when I’m tired, when I’m hungry, I act like my shoe size, not my age.

  Like a kid.

  Hearing Parker explain patiently, but with concern about what I overheard him saying to his elderly mom on the phone, I can’t help but feel stupid.

  I’m accusing him of calling me ‘just a kid’, so why am I acting like one to prove it?

  I guess I feel torn between feeling scared like a little kid with everything that’s happened today and feeling more grown up than I ever have. What Parker and I have done together so far definitely qualifies as grown up stuff.

  Stuff I thought I’d never share with anyone in my whole life, let alone with someone as perfect as Parker.

  I admit to Parker this is all happening too fast, and once he tells me how he understands, just doesn’t want me to go I know I’m in the right place.

  I could say the dumbest things or act like a child and he’d still be here, waiting for me.

  Like he says, whenever I’m ready and if it’s what I really want.

  I think it is what I want, I mean. I know he’s what I want. I just don’t want to commit to anything on the spot.

  Being so tired, so hungry, and with nowhere else to go right now.

  Moose scratches at the door again, and barks.

  With Parker’s say so I let him in and he trots straight past both of us, back to the room I was just in, and jumps up on the bed.

  Parker smiles to himself and shakes his head a little.

  “I know Moose wants you to stay as well,” he admits. “Looks like he’s gonna want to keep you company for a while too,” he adds.

  “And you don’t?” I ask him, suddenly worried I’ve put him off or maybe acted too crazy for one day.

  “I do, you know I do,” he says gently, coming over and brushing my hair over my ear. “But maybe just go have a lie down. Get some sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up,” he recommends.

  I have so much I suddenly want to tell him. I want him to come back to bed, want him to take me as his own like he said he would.

  But Parker’s eyes are clear and calm as he gently but firmly orders me to go take a nap.

  “I’m sorry, Parker,” I tell him before I go back to bed without him. “Sorry for overreacting, I mean.”

  He smiles and tells me not to worry, reminding me I’ve had more than enough trauma for one day, that he doesn’t hold it against me and he’s glad I’m staying.

  “Moose would be lost without you around too, by the way,” he adds before I walk like a zombie back to bed, and curling up to Moose beside me falling asleep instantly.

  The sound of my phone ringing wakes me at the same time the smell of food cooking reaches my nostrils.

  The door’s ajar and once I wake up Moose by fishing for my phone which is somehow by the bed now, he lets himself out once he knows he’s done his job of watching over me.

  It’s Chet calling, and although not a great time, I pick up.

  He is my brother after all and he’s not in the habit of just calling to say hi.

  Something must be up.

  Turns out he just caught a news story about some city folk claiming they saw an off-duty cop disarm a mugger as he walked his dog from a dog salon with a girl who looks just like me.

  Plot twist? He didn’t arrest the mugger, but gave him fifty bucks and told him to go buy a meal.

  “Sound like something you’d be mixed up in sis?” he asks me point-blank.

  For the first time in his life though, he actually sounds concerned, which worries me more than anything.

  “Oh fine,” I tell him. “Yeah there was some trouble, but I’m okay, Chet,” I tell him.

  Out of a job and nowhere to live officially, but I’m fine.

  “Where are you?” he groans. “I’ll come get you or wire you money for a bus ticket home. I told you it wouldn’t work out in the city. Just come on home, Naomi. Now,” he adds, his voice grinding a little, like it always does when he starts bossing me around.

  Also, the main reason I’d never go home and the only reason I left in the first place is Chet and his attitude.

  “I’m not coming home, Chet.” I remind him and for once in my life feel good about standing my ground with him, sick of feeling like I owe him something or even anything.

  I get another wave of cooking, and my stomach growls loudly.

  “Uh, is everything okay with you?” I ask out of politeness. “Because I have to go,” I tell him honestly.

  “I’m fine, Naomi. I just wish you’d grow up and come back home. Where you belong,” he says again, sounding like a man who needs to go get a life instead of controlling mine.

  “I’ll call you in a day or two, Chet,” I lie. “Just really gotta run now, but I’m fine. No need to worry.”

  Before he can say anything else, I hang up and feel instant relief before I power down my phone for good measure.

  I can’t believe I let him tell me what to do for so many years, mostly because I just never knew any better. Never even had the chance to make my own way in the world.

  He’s my brother, sure. But he’s not my keeper.

  There’s a soft knock on the door and I can see Parker’s huge frame waiting patiently like he’s a guest in his own damned house.

  “You can come in,” I remind him. “It’s your house.”

  I don’t mean to sound curt, but my brother kind of has that effect on everyone he talks to, me most of all.

  Parker makes an embarrassed face as he pokes it around the door. “Just wondered if you felt like eating?” he says meekly.

  I have to smile, almost laugh really. He looks so sheepish like he’s really intruding.

  “I’m starving,” I confess, but let him know I need the bathroom too.

  “To freshen up, I mean,” I add. Trying to sound sophisticated, not gross like I feel.

  “There’s a bathroom by the back door,” he says with a grin. A grin I find a little suspicious as he returns innocently to the kitchen.

  Moose
is on a mat in the kitchen I can tell is just for him, keeping an eye on things and no doubt waiting for his share of whatever delicious things I can smell cooking.

  But once I find the bathroom tucked away by the back door, a different smell hits me.

  Then I see all the candles and rose petals once I open the door.

  The huge antique tub is steaming in the center of a black and white tiled, old-school bathroom. Real brass taps and pipes gleam through the candlelit steam, infused with a scent that only reminds me of Parker.

  Woodsy, a little sweet but more spice and freshness than anything.

  “It’s just beautiful,” I hear myself exclaiming, eventually turning to see Parker with his eyes fixed on me, scanning me again from head to toe.

  “It sure is,” he sighs to himself before asking which I want first, bath or dinner?

  I hadn’t realized I’d slept late enough for either and I really can’t decide on the spot.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” he says finally, tearing himself away from me to give me some privacy.

  “There’s plenty of everything, and it’ll stay hot for a while, so take your time,” he calls over his shoulder, and then I hear him asking Moose if he wants something.

  Moose barks loudly and I can hear Parker getting his partner’s dinner ready too as I decide a soak in the tub is probably just what the doctor ordered.

  I haven’t had a real bath in months.

  I mean, there’s the single shower head in my apartment, but I barely even fit under that.

  This tub though, the whole bathroom. It’s like something out of a magazine.

  Despite all the steam, it’s the perfect temperature for me, liking things a little hotter than most.

  In no time, I’ve stripped down to nothing and easing myself into a magical world of deep hot water, bubbles, and that oh so delicious scent that I try to remind myself to ask Parker about before I slip into a full bath coma.

  Forgetting about everything, all my troubles, even my own body as I float downstream in the miracle that is a properly run bath.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Parker

  Once I know Moose has adopted Naomi too, I know I’m doing the right thing. But I can’t help but feel a little stab of hurt when he decides to watch over her, in her bed. Without me there.

  It should be me in there, but like I told her, taking her time to make up her mind about what she wants is fine by me.

  But that doesn’t mean I can’t make up for our little fight or even do a little this or that while she sleeps to make sure she knows how much I care about her once she wakes up.

  Moose too.

  He’s done great the past few days, saved my ass, and protected Naomi like any officer who deserves a medal of bravery would.

  If it was up to me, I’d apply for his citation myself, but if it were up to me he’d get a medal every day of the week.

  While she’s been sleeping I’ve done some thinking too. Reminding myself about what I decided originally.

  Show her what life could be like instead of trying to convince her with just words.

  If she’s with me, she’s my queen and this is her palace. She can have whatever she wants, whenever she wants.

  My mom’s words echo in my mind too, as much as I hate to admit it.

  She’s right.

  I shouldn’t wait a second longer to start a family, not like my dad did.

  He was a great father, but it left us far too little time together by the time I was old enough.

  Back in the day, you wouldn’t start a family unless you could afford it. And ironically, you also needed time as well as money, which for most hard working folks was spent earning the money they needed just to get by.

  No credit cards in my dad’s day. And no real handouts either. Or so he kept reminding me.

  I never knew just how much he’d saved, how much he’d invested for his own family's future until he passed.

  I never got a chance to really thank him for that.

  Maybe the highest honor is to have a family of my own. Pass on everything I’ve learned as well as everything we have to our kids.

  Naomi and me.

  That’s where my mind’s at right now, but like I keep telling myself.

  Leave it up to her to decide. No strings. Remember?

  Yeah, yeah, yeah.

  I’m trying to tell myself that.

  But I don’t want her even talking about walking away again, not until she sees how Moose and I treat our queen.

  I’m not a bad cook.

  I’m a great cook actually, so after I deal with some lingering paperwork and bills, I set to work on a feast fit for our queen.

  A whole sirloin roast with all my favorite trimmings, including gravy from scratch and vegetables from the garden is a no-brainer.

  Dessert I’m okay with, but with time being a factor, I order in the best pecan pie I know from the local deli.

  There’s another call to the florist for roses and a quick call to my man downtown. The one who makes me my cologne.

  Can he do the same in like a bath thing? Yes, he can.

  Within the hour, I’m all set, and even Moose hasn’t stirred to interrupt anything.

  It’s just perfect. The perfect afternoon to get the perfect evening ready for my girl.

  I feel a weird excitement. Not like I’m thinking what’s in any of this for me. Just wanting to make someone realize just know how much they mean to me, how special they are. It lights me up inside.

  Like when Moose gets his rewards and treats, but I hate to say it, old buddy… Naomi ain’t no Moose.

  She’s the Queen of Queens and tonight is all about her.

  I leave her to it, and lifting my eyes to the heavens, pray that I don’t get called in for work.

  I waited months to have the full three day weekend off, but now that the guys downtown know I’m not staying out of town after all… It kinda puts me unofficially back on call.

  Moose seems to read my mind, and looking up at me from his mat in the kitchen, he lets me know with a single glance what we both know.

  What my dad taught me and what I’ve learned every day since.

  Cops are cops. And the call could come at any second. It’s always in the back of our minds, even when we’re having downtime.

  “Just one night, huh?” I suggest to him, silently praying to the gods of justice to cut me some slack, even though I’ve been handed the greatest treasure ever in the form of Naomi.

  Just one night to show her how special she is.

  With all the final touches, including feeding Moose before anyone else, I fill the time Naomi has in her bath with getting things just right.

  Moose lets me off the hook once he sees his own feast I’ve made ready for him, and wastes no time in shooting out back to get all dirty again to bury a bone I’ve kept for him too. Reminding myself why I never give him bones in the first place.

  He buries them and then keeps guard over them, even when they stink terribly and he digs them up all over again.

  I want to check in on Naomi a thousand times, but force myself to give her that space we talked about.

  If she doesn’t agree to stay and doesn’t want anything physical?

  No. I can’t think like that. But I can at least give a girl an hour or so in the tub by herself.

  Doing whatever she needs to do.

  That’s fine.

  But when I feel the urge to check on her, me checking the clock every two seconds, I know I’m might be out of my depth. Just a little.

  Until I hear her calling my name.

  Not in panic, or anger. Not like she’s in trouble.

  It’s a low, sexy call.

  Like the mating call an Alpha male longs to hear when he’s been roaming the wild, desolate wilderness for so long.

  It’s a silky, smooth sound that has an invitation and a proposition all rolled in one word.

  “Parker?”

  The word is like a flood of heat to m
y groin, and my heart starts to pound in my ears.

  In one single word, she’s told me everything I need to hear.

  She’s not mad anymore. She’ll stay and most of all.

  She wants me to need her, feed her and then breed her.

  I just know she does.

  Taking my time, I pick up the towels and robe I deliberately left out of the bathroom, slowly making my way to her and knocking gently on the door.

  She giggles a little. “Get in here, silly,” she says. Half laughing, but with a quiver of need and emotion in her voice.

  And I know it’s not just about wanting a towel.

  The bubbles have subsided a little, and she has one leg up on the side of the thick tub.

  Her proud chest like a pair of islands, the scented foam breaking against them which makes me growl with a newfound hardness once I see her like this.

  “I wanted a towel,” she says, pouting. “But seeing as you’re here, maybe you can help wash my back?” she says, stumbling a little with her attempt at sexy but it’s more than I need to feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  “And your front?” I counter, shivering a breath as I step closer, scooping up the washcloth floating between her legs in the still steaming bathwater.

  Her trembling hand presses over mine, her baby blues looking up at me with a dozen candles burning in each one.

  “How ‘bout I do your front, mister?” she offers, gnawing her lip and closing her eyes, quaking under what I know is her own desperate need for my touch that’s required nowhere near her back.

  The food can wait. I’ve timed it so. And Moose is occupied for at least another hour, maybe more with his own treats.

  “I want you so bad,” I tell her. “Want you like nothing else on earth.”

  All my control. My so-called patience flying out the window once I see her pleasure cave rippling underwater as she spreads her thick thighs wider. The little tuft of blond above her sweet pussy waving at me like a victory flag.

  Her tight, virgin pussy and it’s welcoming hole, twitching as she fights not to wriggle and squirm.

  Fighting the urge not to touch herself so she can have another of those magical orgasms I know she’s capable of.