by Anthology
“Summer…”
We spoke at the same time, and then silence became a pregnant pause as seconds ticked by without additional sound or affirmation.
“It’ll just take a moment…”
“Come here…”
Again, our voices collided with no resolution met, but Ryland turned and propped his crutches against the cabinets before holding his hand out to me. “Please,” he asked, and I was helpless to turn him down. Gulping back my last vestiges of hesitation, I took a shaking step forward and put my hand into his.
“Tell me you want me to drive you home, and I will.” He pulled me into his embrace, one hand cupping my cheek, his thumb slowly rubbing over the bone from the corner of my eye down to my lip. Each breath felt like a tumble further down the rabbit hole, and my body molded itself to his embrace. Any alcohol I’d consumed earlier had already left my body, so there were no excuses.
I ignored his question—two could volley in this game. “Did you like the cookies I made?” Nerves made me reach for the most obvious of questions. I’d made the vegan recipe especially for him, uncertain of how they would turn out without having sampled them first.
Ryland lifted his face, looking up at the ceiling fan as it slowly rotated in the stifling heat of the kitchen, and laughed. My body stiffened with rejection, and I tried to step back. His hands slipped over my shoulders to settle on my hips, drawing me in closer to him. I was surrounded by his thick, muscled body, and the only thing between us was pressed tightly—long and hard—against my center. Excitement, shock, and a crazy desire to run and lock the front door shot through me. I felt jittery like I had this intense sugar rush from eating my favorite strawberry ice cream when he touched me because it was a sweet combination of chills and heat.
Ryland’s lips rubbed against my ear, and his hot breath made a bead of perspiration slide between my breasts. “I loved them, Summer.” His teeth grazed my lobe before he spoke again. “I ate every single one. Thank you.” He ended by kissing my neck, sucking a little at the end before releasing me with a pop that I’m positive resulted in a mark I wouldn’t be able to hide tomorrow. As far as second kisses went I wanted a whole lot more and didn’t think I could wait a respectable amount of time courting between each one.
“I’m happy you liked them.”
The room felt pressurized—between the hot kitchen and Ryland sucking all the air from the space, but that could have been my imagination.
“I did, and I don’t like sharing.” Ryland seemed to be talking about other things, but I let that go and focused on filling my lungs with enough air to keep me conscious.
“I can make you more if you’d like.”
“Mmm.” A guttural humming between his lips was the only response he gave me as I felt fingers inching my summer dress up my legs. I’d worn a bikini, knowing Ryland had a hot tub, but now I found he was using that to his advantage and tugging on the strings, letting my perfect little bows unravel. If this made me a hussy, because I wasn’t about to stop him, I could live with that.
“Ryland.”
“Summer.”
Our mouths met in a joining of tongues and lips seeking out their mates. We stroked each other in a dance of twirling tongues, coaxing more each turn. I ran my hands over his massive shoulders, which were honed by years of training for his dangerous job, and ended up with my fingers tangled in his short but tuggable hair.
Ryland’s fingers managed to untie the knots of my bottoms, and I felt the fabric sliding against my inner thighs and dropping to the floor. I was wetter than a flash flood from my arousal which never in my limited experiences happened before. Ryland’s left hand abandoned its grip on the curve of my hip to cup my sex gently and trace a finger along my slit. He played at my entrance, circling my wet center with agonizing slowness before pushing his finger inside me. Everything below my waist shuddered and clenched around him tightly, drawing a groan from Ryland’s lips.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” It slipped from my mouth, and I dropped my head against Ryland’s rumbling chest in embarrassment.
“Should I look for those car keys?”
He pumped within me, and rational thought fled. I didn’t care if it felt like an inferno inside the kitchen. Satan could have my soul if he gave me one night of this with Ryland—consequences be damned.
“You do that, and I’ll throw them over the fence.” I was dead serious.
RYLAND
“But I’m an injured man. You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
Summer was sexy in the throes of passion. Demanding and unexpectedly fresh.
“I saw you walk without your crutches earlier.” Panting she said each word with a cute pause attempting to catch her breath. “You’re not that injured.”
“Ah, I’m busted, then?”
“A little, but your secret is safe with me.”
I kept the rhythm of my fingers slow, pumping and curled up inside her as I stroked that spot that made her squeak little noises of approval the closer I got to making her come. My dick hurt, pressed up against my shorts, but I didn’t want to rush Summer either. She wasn’t a random fuck, and Ford would cut off my balls if I used her like that.
“Oh, that feels so good.”
“I’ll make it feel better.” Hushing her sexy moans, I kissed her neck again, leaving my mark. I didn’t care if it made me juvenile. Let the guys she worked with see my brand on her skin and know that she was with somebody. I contemplated how to pop in at her job this week hoping that dick doctor she worked with would see it. It was stupid, but he fucked up in the worst way and the twelve year-old-boy in me wanted to make funny faces and stick my tongue out at him.
“Ryland, oh.”
I lifted her right leg up, using the small space between the counter and the drawer handle behind me for her foot to rest on. My hips rolled against her, and her hot pussy dampened the front of my shorts where she was pressed against my straining dick.
“That’s it, Summer. Ride me, baby.” I half-lifted her, unconcerned about my bum knee even though the strain was dulling my own desire.
Summer moaned louder, and I kissed her again in a new spot, sharply coloring her neck. I’d give her a necklace of love bites if she let me. She clamped down on my fingers as I pumped her harder. A guttural cry and a whimper left her leaning against me limply. The deadweight of her body wasn’t much, but my knee decided to give out right then, and I leaned back with a grimace.
“I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Startled, Summer rambled on as I was basked in her post-orgasm weight against me. “I should go, maybe call a cab or something.” She shuddered, and I rubbed my hands up and down her arms to calm her.
“For what?” Was she serious? I wasn’t letting her go anywhere.
“Your knee. Ryland, let me get you some ice. It’s going to swell taking my weight like this.”
Summer was crazy if she thought her slight weight even affected me.
“I want you.”
“Not like this.” Summer began to withdraw, returning to her shy self.
“The hot tub, then. It’ll help my knee, I promise.” Summer gave me a smirk that suggested she knew I was full of bullshit, but I didn’t care. “Come on, at least help me out there if you won’t go and make-out with me.” I teased her.
Huffing, she put a shoulder under my arm and let me lean against her as we skipped the crutches, and like a three-legged race gone wrong, she helped me outside, down the patio step, and into the hot tub. Once I was sitting inside, the circulating water eased the ache in my knee but brought a different kind of ache back with a raging need.
“How are you going to get out if I leave?” Standing outside the tub, she put her hands on her hips, and the motion pushed her breasts up at the neckline of her dress.
“You’re not leaving Summer; give it up.”
She rolled her eyes, but we both knew it was true. Summer wouldn’t leave me out here.
“You know Ford is going to kill us both.” She put her arms int
o the water up to her elbows and swished back and forth, testing it out.
“I’m less worried about Ford, who will have a raging hangover tomorrow, and more concerned that you think this isn’t something more than a casual fuck.” I winced saying it crudely but I wanted her to understand.
“Well isn’t it casual? We’re fooling around.” Her soft, worried voice sounded delicate and fragile, yet a challenge to get a read on.
“It’s not casual for me.” I moved across the hot tub to grip her arms gently but firmly so she couldn’t walk away. “Summer Rose, I’ve had it bad for you since I saw you that day in the ER with Doctor Douche Canoe. Shit, to be honest, I’ve felt this way for years, but I ignored it because I knew Ford would kick my ass and end our friendship.
“I’m done waiting for Ford to grow up and accept how I feel about you. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Heck, I’d ask you to move in if I didn’t think your mother would drive over here with rosary beads and a priest.”
“Pfft.” Summer blew her loose hair from her face and rolled her eyes. Goose bumps peppered her skin, and they weren’t from the balmy evening air. She looked nervous—maybe scared of getting hurt again?
“Yeah, my mom would do that too.” She laughed rolling her eyes.
“I know this is new for both of us but I’ve been harboring these feelings for a while and I don’t think I’m alone in this, am I? I want a relationship with you, and I want everyone to know about it.”
“Ryland…” She leaned from side to side hemming and hawing over what I said.
I was done waiting. I leaned over Summer to get a better grip on her and then lifted her up and over the edge of the tub, uncaring as water sluiced over the side.
“Ryland!” she screamed, flailing as I dumped her inside, sputtering water and smacking my chest.
“There, all settled now.”
“I’ve got my clothes on.” She looked down as her dress billowed up like a balloon in the swirling, bubbling water.
“Not your bottoms,” I reminded her, pulling her close and setting her down on my lap.
“Whose fault is that?”
Summer tried to remain impassive, but I slipped my hands under her dress and pulled it up and off her body in one swift move. She didn’t protest until I tugged at the string holding her top.
“Ryland,” Summer smiled through her little growl and I could see she was shocked, but not pissed, so I took it as a good sign.
“There, blame away, but I find this much more effective in rehabilitating my knee.” My hands drifted under the water, back to her center and circling slowly.
“Tell me you’re not the least bit attracted to me or don’t have feelings for me and I’ll stop.” A slickness not from the water eased the way as I slid my finger inside her again.
“I want you, Ryland.”
“That feels like a but coming…” I hesitated for her to mull over her decision.
“I want you enough to risk pissing off my brother. I know you’ll fight for me because you’re one of the good guys.”
Shifting on the seat in the hot tub, Summer helped me pull my swim trunks off in the water. We were naked, the heat fusing us closer together. Embracing her, she melted into my arms and we rubbed against each other, which only fueled the fire more.
“Yes, please,” Summer begged so prettily, and I obliged, lifting her up over my shaft. Her legs parted wider, and she sank down over me, letting me fill her.
“You are so beautiful.” Words escaped unfiltered from my lips as I whispered whatever soft nonsense men do when their dick is being milked and their brain is devoid of all rational sense. Except I meant every sweet word and every caress against her trembling skin.
Summer lifted and sank down over me in a gentle rhythm. Her breasts bounced in the bubbles, nipples dark against the reflective surface of the water. We were everything and nothing at once, and I didn’t know where I ended and she began. Releasing into her felt like coming home, and at that moment, I knew I didn’t want any of this to change. I’d take the ribbing at the firehouse and Ford kicking my ass as long as I got to hold her like this forever.
“Summer, I love you.”
She shuddered, gripping me tighter. Maybe it was the heat of the hot tub, or my brain, drunk on soft skin against me. She was mine, and I wasn’t holding back my feelings anymore.
“Never let me go, Ryland.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
I’d waited years to say it. I would have given anything for a taste of her sweet lips and carob chocolate chip cookies. Nothing was going to pull us apart, not big brothers, best friends, or nosy coworkers.
Chapter 3
Rose by Sarah M. Cradit
Most people didn’t sign up for the worst day of their lives.
In Brendan’s line of work, he was often the centerpiece of the worst day of others’ lives. Entire worlds obliterated in a fountain of smoke and ash. Beloved family members, gone in an instant from a miscalculated decision or help come too late. People didn’t go into those days knowing this. Nor did Brendan go into his with any foresight into what disasters lurked on the horizon. He could wax about the blessings and curses of this obliviousness until his breath ran out, but life didn’t come with an option for foresight. As with any battle, all anyone could do was come prepared.
Most days, he could stand confident he was prepared, no matter the outcome. No matter the loss.
Today was not this day.
It wasn’t his district. Hell, it wasn’t even a parallel district, which his station would respond to calls for in the hotter, drier months like the one they were in now.
He was familiar with Busch Greenway, of course, but as a lover of nature and a good weekend hike. He was on call outside his shift—by his own choice—so he rarely left the city entirely on his off days, and the Greenway offered one of the best paths within the city. Over five miles of wooded greenspace and he could forget he was even in in St. Louis for a few hours.
It was rare his station ever ventured this far out of district, and that was why they opened this call to volunteers. Station 69 couldn’t afford to leave their own fire district vulnerable, but they also couldn’t turn down their fellow brothers in need. The call to arms was sounded long outside the city, even: Busch Greenway was on fire, and no efforts so far were slowing its progress.
City firefighters were trained for this, but they were not practiced. The techniques in containing a brush fire were vastly different from fighting a blaze in the center of a busy city. Brendan, having grown up in a small Oregon lumber town, learned these skills early as a high school firehouse volunteer. He could still smell that distinct pitch of a forest in flames. Still recalled struggling in the dead of night to draw a containment circle around the fire before it could spread. Mostly, he remembered the comradery of brothers in turnout gear rolling in from neighboring counties and states. At no time in his life had he ever felt the call to something bigger than himself more than those late nights and summers in the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest.
And Rose. All these memories included her as well, for better or worse.
Rose.
High school romances never lasted. Every adult in his life had said so, with dripping self-satisfied confidence, one that didn’t diminish even when he and Rose made it past graduation and packed their bags for the University of Missouri. On trips home, they were greeted with smiles and hugs filled more with surprise than joy that their relationship had survived in the real world.
Brendan wasn’t blind to the challenges. Where he was perfectly content to bury his nose in a book, Rose wanted to fly. She sought thrill after thrill, dragging Brendan along for the ride like a child with a favorite doll. It was she who signed them up as volunteers at the fire department junior year, and then, later, training as professional firefighters. Rose who consistently defied orders, bursting through areas marked unsafe to save a trapped dog or retrieve an irreplaceable photo album. She took every scolding with a
faraway look, one Brendan knew reflected her planning her next adventure. He loved her for her huge heart. He feared her potential for self-destruction.
The world needs more people who aren’t afraid of it, Rose said, the day he finally walked out, her irises flared. Fists ready.
And what happens when you get yourself killed trying to be the hero?
We signed up for these risks, Brendan. Sometimes I think you forget that.
We signed up so we could do good. Together. But there’s rules, Rose. We have them for a reason.
If I followed the rules, more people would die.
They aren’t going to let you stay on if you keep getting in trouble. Everything we’ve worked for…
I love you, but I’m tired of you quoting our values as if you speak for us both.
And I’m tired of you acting like you’re the only one whose feelings and values matter. You think everything you say or do is above reproach because you have good intentions?
Good intentions? Her laugh, then, was so disgustingly unlike her that the need to be away, to be far away from her, rose up so strongly with Brendan he was hardly able to let her finish. I’m going to save the world, Brendan.
He suited up, watching in reflective silence as his brothers were all deployed to different scenes across the district. They didn’t understand why he would volunteer for a job that was guaranteed to run him on back-to-back shifts, potentially for days.
How could they? They’d never slept for the fourth day straight on bare earth with the scent of burning forest hanging in the air. They didn’t know what it was like to wake momentarily to the gift of a sandwich from someone’s wife, and the sense of community as entire towns came together to rally around a common cause.
In that, at least, he and Rose had been simpatico.
The first moment, the exact moment, Brendan knew he loved her was after an acres-wide fire in Tillamook Forest. Her bravery back then had been exhilarating, not dangerous. And when the chief finally gave the all-clear, she’d fallen to her knees and thrown her head back to the sky, her helmet falling to the ground and rolling away. Tears cut an uneven path through the days-thick soot staining her pale face. Watching her, he felt both an intruder in a private moment but also as if he had never been closer to another human being in his life. He had held on to that moment through every fight. It kept him persevering even when they had nothing left but the love and lingering effects of habit.