Fire in the Hole

by Tymber Dalton

  She could see herself sitting by Brad’s side at Mark’s eventual wedding to some hopefully great guy. Maybe even Jacob, if the kids were lucky.

  She could see it all.

  And she wanted it all.

  Staring at him, she leaned in with a smile. “How’s the ass?”

  “Stuffed, Ma’am.”

  “And your cock?”

  “Hard, Ma’am.”

  “Good.”

  When they returned to the barn and got the horses untacked and turned out into the paddock, she pulled Brad into the tack room and closed the door.

  “Pants down.”

  He immediately unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans and briefs down.

  His cock was hard, all right.

  She knelt in front of him. “Hands behind your back.”

  He complied.

  “Keep them there. Good boys get rewards.” She sucked him down, loving the deep, rolling moan washing through him.

  * * * *

  Holy…fuck!

  He’d thought he had a pretty decent libido before meeting her, but never would he ever have masturbated this much.

  Ever!

  Even if he had, he knew damn well he couldn’t have come this many times in this rapid succession.

  But there he was, struggling to remain upright as she blew him. He desperately wanted to grab her head and fuck her face, but kept his hands behind him as she’d ordered.

  She was sooo good with her mouth, and used her hands to roll his balls along her palm, lightly tugging exactly how he liked as she deep-throated him.

  It only took him a minute to explode, and hard. She held on to his thighs, the only thing keeping him standing. When she stood, she kissed him and he barely remembered to keep his hands behind him.

  “You can move your hands now.”

  He grabbed her and kissed her, hard, not wanting to let her go until he’d shown her how he felt. He cupped the nape of her neck with his left hand and the right splayed across the ass of her jeans so he could grind against her.

  “Thank you, Ma’am,” he said when he finally let her come up for air.

  She almost looked like she wobbled a little on the release, but she wore a smile. “You’re very welcome.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Lara awoke Monday morning feeling achy in the bad way from horseback riding—and achy in the good ways from Brad riding her—she was pleased to find the man kneeling on her side of the bed and smiling at her. He’d awakened her by gently stroking her cheek and calling her name.

  “Good morning, Ma’am.”

  She rolled over to kiss him, immediately spotting her steaming mug of coffee sitting there. “Wow. If you’re trying to spoil me…good job, you.”

  His smile widened. “Yes, Ma’am. And thank you.” He was already dressed in a work shirt and jeans.

  She sat up. “Okay, serious moment. This won’t mess up your daily routine, will it?”

  “No. Because I’m usually waiting until now to go out there anyway. This is perfect timing. Mark’s already left for Wylie’s and to catch the bus.”

  She crooked her finger at him to lean in again for another kiss. “So, loophole for you. If you ever have to get moving earlier than I need to get up, just leave me a good-morning sticky note on my bedside table and make sure my alarm will go off.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes, Ma’am. And frankly? This is the good kind of talking that I really appreciate. To me, this is all wrapped up in what we’re doing. I’m happy taking this slow for you. Because I want it to last.” He stared into her eyes.

  She felt her heart slipping even closer to admitting she loved him. “Me, too.”

  After one last kiss, he was up and gone.

  Getting out of bed, she grabbed her bathrobe, and her coffee, and headed down the hall to her bathroom to start her morning.

  She was at work, sitting at her desk, when her office phone rang a little after nine. “Good morning, Lara Cannon.”

  “It’s time you drop this bullshit charge so I can get on with my life.”

  She’d been perusing listings for a client to show them when they arrived for their appointment at ten. She pulled up short at the tone of the man’s voice, as well as his words.

  “Who is this?”

  Although, before the man answered, her brain had already clicked into place. “You know damn well who this is. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to have to explain to my parents and friends that I was arrested because you’re a bitch?”

  She sat back, fury trying to take over. “Let me tell you something. You are the crazy man who showed up at my apartment and wouldn’t leave. You are the one who fought with the cops when I had to call them. Whatever consequences you need to face for that, that’s on you.”

  Steve’s preliminary hearing was next week. The state attorney’s office had told her they shouldn’t need her testimony beyond the initial report, unless he refused to plead guilty and forced it to go to trial.

  “Drop the fucking charges, Lara. I don’t want this fucking bullshit on my record.”

  “Are you threatening me, Steve? Because if you are, let’s do this. Take it to trial and it’ll be in public record how you treated Everett and Wylie, and the things you said to me. Right there for anyone to find and read. I would strongly suggest you take whatever plea deal they’re offering you, because the last thing you want is me testifying on the stand about your behavior. Now, if you contact me again, I will get a restraining order against you. Again, public record.”

  Trembling, she hung up and stared at her office phone. He’d dialed her direct number, not the main office number, because otherwise Tawny would have buzzed it through on a different line when she transferred the call to her phone.

  He didn’t call back.

  She picked up her cell phone and called Eve’s cell, quickly updating her.

  Eve didn’t sound happy. “He said that, huh? Crap. Still probably not enough for a restraining order, but I’ll put a call in to the state attorney who caught the case and let them know Steve was trying to interfere with a witness. They might want to twist his arm to take the deal before they add witness tampering charges to the mix. I don’t understand why he’s fighting this. They’re offering him a misdemeanor plea deal that doesn’t even come with any jail time, just a minor fine and an anger management course. He goes a year without any other offenses, it’ll be expunged from his record. Frankly, he was lucky. If he was a young black kid instead of an old rich white guy, he’d already be convicted and doing five years in the state corrections system for it.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Absolutely nothing. If he calls you again, hang up. Don’t let him drag you into a conversation. If he shows up, call the cops immediately. And whatever you do, do not threaten him. Besides, dropping the charges isn’t up to you at this point. He still resisted the officers. That’s beyond your control. They don’t let that shit go in this county, even if the original charges they were called for were minor and dropped by the victim.”

  “Can’t get a restraining order, huh?”

  “I’ll talk to the state attorney and ask if we can get one as part of the plea deal. Maybe he’ll voluntarily agree to one. If not, they can ask for it as part of sentencing.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  When Lara ended the call, she sat back and tried to quiet her brain. Eve didn’t sound horribly worried, meaning Lara knew she shouldn’t be.

  But the whole conversation with Steve had felt…odd.

  Weird.

  Off.

  That Steve would keep up this behavior in the first place bothered her.

  And Eve had peeked at his previous divorce cases. There were no allegations of abuse or stalking in either one, just “irreconcilable differences,” which could mean anything from we don’t want to be together anymore, to we hate the sight of each other’s cheating asshole faces.

  After getting up to use the bathroom and refill her cof
fee mug, Lara forced herself to get back to work.

  She wouldn’t waste any more of her life on that loser, and regretted she’d ever gone out with him in the first place, much less had agreed to marry him.

  Thank god I came to my freaking senses.

  * * * *

  Monday afternoon, when Lara arrived home early from work, she didn’t see Brad’s pickup truck parked in its usual spot. That wasn’t unusual, except that when she’d texted him she was on her way home, he’d said he’d meet her there.

  The front door was unlocked, meaning he had to be around. They didn’t leave the door unlocked unless they were close. She walked inside, setting her laptop bag and purse on the dining room table.

  “Brad?” She knew Mark wouldn’t be home until later, over at Jacob’s with him. Jacob’s parents would bring him home after dinner, leaving her and Brad ample free time to have their own fun.

  Then, through the windows, she spotted Brad’s truck parked in the back yard.

  Walking out through the kitchen door, she saw him standing out there—shirtless, yum!—working on…something.

  “Is that a raised bed?” She walked outside to join him and tried not to drool over him. The four-by-four frame was laid out on top of several layers of weed cloth, the brown, plastic sides locked together.

  “Do you like it, Ma’am? I went ahead and bought a pre-made one.” The truck’s tailgate was down, and several bags of dirt and compost were stacked on the bed.

  “What kinds of plants are those?”

  “I got you some starter plants. Rosemary, basil, chives, mint, squash. And tomatoes. Plus several kinds of seeds. I figured I’d let you plant what you wanted. They weren’t expensive. And we can save what seeds we don’t plant now and use them later.”

  “This is amazing.” She started to hug him, but he held out his hands.

  “I’m all sweaty.”

  “So?” She threw her arms around him, loving the sound of his laughter. “I was married to a blacksmith, don’t forget. And spent my fair share of years in SCA and hanging around ren fairs. I know sweaty and grody. If I was on my way to work, maybe that’d be different.”

  He kissed her. “Want to help me mix the dirt and decide where to put everything?”

  “Yes.” She started to return to the house, then turned. “Beer?”

  He smiled. “Yes, please, Ma’am.”

  She hurried and changed clothes, then returned to him with a beer for him and one for her.

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “I should be thanking you. How much do I owe you?”

  “Not a thing. This will be fun.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to garden?”

  “Not a big one like Wylie has. Salad greens and fresh herbs for cooking? That’s different. We’ll use that. I love mint in my tea. Fresh mint? Even better.”

  He unloaded the bags of dirt while she manned the shovel and started mixing everything. Once they had it filled and mixed and leveled, she decided where to put the plants. He’d also purchased several packages of seeds of mixed salad greens.

  Laying all the seedlings out first, then she decided what she wanted where in terms of seeds. “Do you have any suggestions?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Honestly? We didn’t grow much produce. We raised cattle, and Dad was an electrician. So…”

  “Publix?”

  He smirked. “Publix. Or Mr. Meselin across the street. We’d buy stuff from him seasonally. He’d put out watermelons, black-eyed peas, strawberries, all sorts of stuff. And oranges.”

  “How’d he sell it?”

  “The melons, peas, and berries were U-pick. The other stuff, he’d set up a stand at the road under a picnic tent and sell them. And eggs. Jerky. Stuff like that. The oranges, he had a company come in every season to pick all but two rows of trees and they paid him. He used the rest himself, or sold them in his stand.”

  “So that’s how he earned spending money.”

  “Yeah. He raised cattle, too, until the last few years. Then me renting pasture from him helped also. And he received social security.”

  She decided where to plant everything based on how big stuff would get, and they started planting. By the time she’d finished her beer, she was filthy, tired, and happy.

  “There’s a hose bib right there on the side of the house,” he said. “I can rig a timer and sprinkler to water it every day.”

  “No, I’ll do it myself. This is really cool. Thank you. I can’t wait until I can start making my own pesto with fresh basil from my own garden.”

  She caught a glimpse of his smile. “What?”

  * * * *

  Brad couldn’t quit staring at her. She was gorgeous. Even dirty and sweaty and sitting there on the grass staring at their new garden box.

  He loved her.

  Sinking down next to her, he draped an arm around her shoulders. “Want to grab a shower together?”

  “No other chores today?”

  “Just cleaning up this and then dinner.”

  “I think I could be persuaded into a shower with you, mister.” She cocked her head.

  “What?”

  “Just…thinking.”

  “And?”

  She leaned in, nuzzling his nose with hers. “Mister,” she whispered. “I think I like that. What I can call you around others.”

  He smiled. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She grinned. “Yeah, I really like that.” A sad sigh escaped her. “It’s nice coming home to peace and quiet like this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, nothing. Steve called me at work this morning and—”

  He leaned back. “Wait, what? Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

  “Because I didn’t want to think about it.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “He told me to drop the charges, and I basically told him to go fuck himself. Then I called Eve, and she said she’d call the state attorney’s office and inform them what happened.”

  “Okay. This week, we will go to the gun range and practice. You’ve been putting me off long enough about that.”

  “My permit hasn’t come back yet.” She’d checked and had confirmation that the state had received everything, but it would probably take a couple of weeks to process it.

  “Even better. You’ll have time to practice before it gets here.”

  “I can hit the crap out of shit with my baton. Besides, Steve being an ass on the phone does not automatically equate to Steve’s going to do more than be an ass on the phone.”

  “Doesn’t mean he won’t, either.” He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. “If something happens to you, I’m going to end up in jail because I will hunt the fucker down and kill him. Don’t think I won’t. Everett will probably be sitting next to me in the cell.”

  “True.” She knew it was true. Absolutely.

  “Please humor me?”

  “Dinner and shooting date?”

  He smiled. “We’ll take Mark with us. He’s been wanting to go. How about tomorrow? I’m picking him up after summer school. Mama Suarez’s?”

  “How can I resist that?”

  “You can’t.” He leaned in for another kiss. “Because I want to make sure you’re safe if I’m not around to help you.”

  * * * *

  Brad didn’t want to scare her, but he completely believed Steve might be the kind of guy to go off his nut and attack someone. She’d wounded his pride, and he wasn’t a man used to accepting that.

  Not only had she wounded his pride, she’d stood up to him and kept standing up to him, exacerbating the injury.

  They finished picking up the garbage left over from planting and tidied the area. Then Lara joined him in his shower to clean up.

  Which quickly led to them getting dirty.

  He sank to his knees and eagerly went down on her, enjoying the sounds she made, sounds he was quickly growing addicted to.

  He loved her.

&nb
sp; He knew this, and knew it’d probably sound weird if he admitted it to her this soon.

  But…he was sure.

  Pretty damn sure.

  That meant he’d bide his time until he knew she was on the same level he was.

  Meanwhile, he slid two fingers inside her pussy and finger-fucked her as she squirmed on his mouth and he licked and sucked her clit. When she came, she grabbed his head and held on tight, mashing his mouth against her pussy and nearly making him come from how sexy it was.

  Once she’d released him and slumped against the wall to recover, he stood and leaned in for a kiss.

  Then Ma’am came out to play. “Turn around,” she hoarsely ordered. “Hands against the wall.”

  He didn’t hesitate, didn’t question.

  She leaned out of the shower for something and when she pulled the shower curtain closed again, he realized she had the tube of lube in her hand. His head dropped as she pressed two lubed fingers against his rim and slowly started fucking them inside him as she jacked his cock with her other hand.

  Pressing a kiss against his back, she said, “If you can’t come before I get bored, you’ll have to wait until at least tomorrow night to come.”

  That hardened his cock even more. A moan rolled from him, unbidden, as his hips flexed in time with her motions. He started fucking himself back and forth, between her hand on his cock and her fingers in his ass.

  She nipped the back of his shoulder. “Be my good boy.” Then her fingers twisted in his ass, brushing over his prostate, and—

  “Yes!” he gasped as he exploded, his hot cum covering her hand before the shower spray washed it away.

  She giggled, her lips still pressed against him, her fingers still in his ass.

  “What’s so funny, Ma’am?”

  “Your ass kind of squeezed my fingers. That was cool.” She slid her fingers out of his ass then used soap to clean up before letting him pull her into his arms.

  Slowly kissing her, he stared down at her. “You’re just dying to reenact Happy International Women’s Day from Deadpool, aren’t you?”

  She grinned. “Maaaybe. Don’t lie and say you don’t want it.”