Wild Irish_Wild & Noble

by Shyla Colt

  “Thank you.”

  We move to a red velvet love seat after we hang out coats, and she hooks her arm in mine.

  “This place is swank. I can’t remember the last time I went somewhere this nice.”

  “Now that’s a shame because you deserve to be treated like a queen daily.” She ducks her head. “We moved from friends to more. I had to level up my game.”

  She shifts her weight around.

  “You’re nervous why?” I ask.

  “What do you mean by more?”

  “More than friends, less than labels while we figure everything out. We’ll keep it organic. No pressure. It’s what you want, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “The only word I need to use for you that matters is mine.”

  She gasps. “Z—”

  “Deny it.” I trail my fingers up her back, and she shivers.

  “I-I don’t belong to anyone.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ll give you whatever you want, but I get to take the lead.” I pause my caress at the base of her spine and massage the tight muscles. She loosens up, and I lean in to flick her earlobe with the tip of my tongue. Instead of pulling away, she melts against me. I wrap my arm around her waist and squeeze her hip. I can’t get enough of touching her. I fantasized about having the right to be at her side like this. I trail my fingers up and down her arm.

  A young blond man with a goatee approaches us. Dressed in all black with a set of night vision glasses on top of his head, he looks more like a spy than a waiter.

  “Good evening. I’m Brandon, and I’ll be your guide through the dining journey tonight. If you follow me back, I’ll guide you to the table with my arm on your shoulder if you’ll hold hands.” I twine my fingers in Noble’s and rise, bringing her with me. He leads us from the low-lit room to the pitch black darkness. My ears work overtime. Conversations, the clinks of glasses, and the rustles of movement seem even louder with my sight gone.

  Brandon stops. “If you reach out in front of you, you’ll find the chair pushed into your table.” I pat the air in front of me until I feel the smooth wood. I pull it out and guide Noble to sit. Slowly, Brandon guides me to my side, and I take my own seat. The next few minutes are full of getting settled and being brought our first course. Brandon leaves us with a promise to return once we signal for him.

  “It’s a bit disorienting not being able to see, isn’t it?” she asks.

  “It’s also exciting.”

  “Zeke.” Her voice takes on a breathless quality.

  “Remember our car ride?” I ask casually as I sample the wine.

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to do the same thing.”

  “Here?” she squeaks.

  “Yes. Just the first part.”

  She clears her throat. “O-okay.”

  Her compliance has me rock hard.

  I keep my voice low enough to stay between us and lean forward. “Now pull down your pants and sit on the edge of your chair.”

  She’s silent and still. I can feel the protest build. I wait, curious to see what she’s going to do. The rustling beneath our table is music to my ears. When she stills, I decide to test her boundaries.

  “Lean back and enjoy your wine, sweetheart.”

  I quietly slip under the large table. The long tablecloth conceals my movements and her state of undress. I feel my way to her carefully. Her scent is a feminine musk, earthy and naturally sweet at the same time. My mouth waters. I pull her pants and panties down together by her ankles, and stroke my way up to her inner thighs. I stop just shy of touching her center. I run a finger between her slippery lips.

  She jerks her hips. I pin her legs down with one arm and ease a finger into her with the other. Her core is molten, and her walls are needy as they flex around me. I ease out slowly and push back in. I increase my speed. Fine tremors run through her body. I could spend all day learning her body, but at the moment, time’s limited.

  Curling my finger, I thrust deeper. Her juices slick my finger, and trail down my hand. I add another finger, and her body stiffens as I stretch her tight hole. She clamps down, giving me what I crave. I continue to stroke her through the orgasm before I remove my fingers and lick them clean. I emerge from beneath the table and take my seat.

  “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m ready for our second course.”

  She gives a shaky laugh. “I’m not sure I can handle it. I just had to gag myself with my napkin.” The imagery is beautiful.

  “Don’t tempt me to return.”

  “Too late. I’m already buttoned and zipped.”

  I tense. “Did I tell you to do that?”

  “Well, no. But you didn’t say not to either.”

  “It’s okay. I know it’s hard for you to let go. Don’t worry. I’m going to change that.”

  “Zeke?”

  “This is my only warning. Next time I’ll have to correct you.”

  “Correct me how?”

  “By taking you over my knee and spanking that round ass of yours.”

  She whimpers.

  “Would you like that?” I ask.

  “I-I’m not sure.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough, sweetness. You buck me at every command. Finish your food, and we’ll move on to the next course.”

  As we enter our second course, I delve into her head. “I don’t want you to think what I want from you is all sexual.”

  “It isn’t?” she whispers.

  “Not by far. I’ll admit, it’s one of the things that made me hesitant to bring up how I feel. I have a dominant streak that runs deep, and you have a strong personality. Can you handle me?”

  “What do you mean by dominant streak?”

  “I need to steer the ship.”

  “And what if I don’t like the direction you’re headed in?”

  “You wouldn’t be a silent partner. The boundaries are yours to set, but I will challenge them. If I think it’s necessary. Answer me this one question … do the things I want to do frighten you, or is it the fact that it forces you from your comfort zone?”

  “What’s wrong with liking where you are?”

  “Absolutely nothing, if you’re happy and growing. You said yourself things have gotten tedious and stale in your life recently.”

  Quiet descends over the table. Did I push too hard too soon?

  “I’m not sure this is the answer though.”

  “You’re not opposed to figuring that out, are you?”

  “No.”

  Pleased with her response, I change the topic. “I hope you can move in those heels. We’re going bowling after this.”

  “Ha. Please. I don’t need gym shoes to send you crying home to your mama.”

  “Big words.”

  “Good player,” she replies confidently.

  “We’ll see about that, Schaffer.”

  “Have my prize ready to collect when I win, Wild.”

  “Oh, you want to raise the stakes?” I’m intrigued by this new side she’s revealing.

  “I do. Winner gets to be in charge for a day.” She suggests.

  “You trying to flip the tables on me?”

  “Maybe,” she purrs.

  I laugh. “I’m game, but you’ll have to earn it.”

  “Believe me. I will.”

  Chapter Four

  Noble

  The key turning in the lock pulls me from my sleep. I rub my eyes and glance at the clock. Five a.m.? Mom’s still asleep. There’s only one other person who has a set of keys. My heart races. Is he hurt? I stumble off the couch and slide across the wooden floor in my socks. The defeat etched onto his smoke-smeared face makes the organ in my chest hurt. This is bad.

  “Zeke?”

  He stares at me blankly. His shoulders shake, and a slow panic detonates inside of me. I’m not used to seeing him like, so raw, and completely out of gas. He rests his head on my shoulder, buries his face into my neck, and unleashes. Tears soak my neck and T
-shirt. The silent sobs rip my insides to shreds. I stroke his downy head. “It’s okay.” I kiss his temple and hold him up. He’s always been there for me. I’m not going to let him down when he needs me most. “I’ve got you. Let it all out.”

  I kick the door shut and walk backward to engage the lock. I move toward the hallway, and he tightens his hold.

  “I’m not going anywhere. We’re moving to my room, okay?”

  He nods, and we manage to shuffle our way together. My ribs protest his tight hold. What the hell happened? Inside of my room, I plop down on my bed and open my arms. He climbs in. The acrid scent of smoke and burnt things surrounds me. He must’ve come here straight from work. His sobs ease and his body relaxes as he drifts into an exhausted sleep. His weight pins me to the bed. I don’t dare move for fear of waking him. I’ve never seen him this wrecked. Did Station 49 lose another firefighter tonight?

  The thought shakes me to my core. Who was it? My eyes well with tears. Is there another family out there entering the grieving process my mother and I still have yet to work our way through? Nausea assaults me. I cling tightly to the man in my arms, saying a thankful prayer he was able to come here tonight. I’ve played hard to get, refusing to label what we’re doing, but the emotions are clear.

  I’m already in over my head because I’m in love with him now. Jesus, help me. I let my own tears fall as I pray for him. Lord protect him, heal him, and show me how I can help. I kiss the face dear to me, reassuring myself with the physical contact that he’s here with me, safe and sound. That this isn’t a dream I’m going to wake up from only to realize he’s gone. My head pounds. I close my eyes. Gratitude fills me when the elixir of sleep washes over me, pulling me down into the darkness where no thoughts can penetrate.

  A full bladder drags me to the word of the living. I wiggle, trying to crawl from beneath the massive deadweight.

  “Don’t go,” Zeke mumbles.

  “I have to pee.” He rolls onto his back. I scramble from beneath him and leap from the bed, hurrying to the bathroom. After relieving myself and washing my hands, I return to find him propped up against the headboard.

  “Sorry to just come here and fall apart on you.”

  I kneel on the bed and grip his face. “Hey, you’re human. I’m always here for you whatever you need. You know that.”

  “Yeah.” He nods.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “We got a call for a house fire last night. The baby was trapped in the back bedroom.” My throat clogs. “The fire kept everyone from reaching him. We broke out the window in the nursery, but he’d inhaled so much smoke. We immediately tried to resuscitate him but he was already turning blue from lack of oxygen, and his body was cold and stiff.” He chokes up. “I ... I had to deliver last rites. H-his family was Catholic and the others working last night were atheists, so it fell to me.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” I pull him into a hug.

  “I couldn’t save him. I had to pray over him knowing if I had just been there faster, he’d be alive.”

  “You know you can’t think like that, baby. You went into a burning building to save lives. It’s more than most people would ever attempt. You go above and beyond each and every day you enter that firehouse ready to answer calls. As much as we hate to admit it, there’s no way everyone can be saved.”

  “I know. But children … they get to me like nothing else does.”

  “I know.” I wipe his face off and kiss his cheeks. “I think you did a courageous thing. In that horrific moment, you gave them some sort of peace and comfort. I know it didn’t feel like much, but I’m quite sure to them it was everything.”

  He hiccups. “I’m a fucking baby right now.”

  “No, honey.” The man I love. I curse myself for my inability to be open and candid. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “I may or may not have some of your clothing laying around.”

  He gives a broken chuckle. “Thief.”

  “Hey, they’re comfy. You lent them to me with no statute of limitation on when they needed to be returned by.”

  “Thank you for being you.” His lips caress mine in the sweetest kiss I’ve ever known.

  Taking his hand, I guide him into my en-suite bathroom.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he mumbles.

  “Yes, I do. You pride yourself on taking care of me. Allow me to do the same for you.”

  “I shouldn’t have come here like this.”

  I place a finger over his lips. “This is the only place you should’ve come. Sit.” I push him down on to the toilet and run a bath. I toss in sandalwood bathing salts and bubble bath. Today he’ll be pampered. I return to tug his white shirt out of his pants and over his head, tossing it into my room. He watches me stiff and stoic. “Stand for me.” He rises. I unbutton and unbuckle his pants, pulling them around his ankles. “Step out and get into the tub.” He follows my request and I quickly scoop up the clothing and take it into the washer. I don’t want any reminders to trigger an intense reaction. He’s dealing with enough right now.

  Returning to the bathroom, I turn off the tap and remove my own clothes, slipping in behind him. This isn’t how I expected our first time naked to go. I soap up a washcloth and scrub away the grime and residue. Little by little, his muscles go lax, and he leans back against me. I want to wrap my body around him and insulate him from the pain and turmoil going on in his mind. The water turns gray from the soot.

  “Let me wash your hair, baby.”

  He gives a short nod of agreement. I grab the cup behind me and fill it with water. “Tilt your head back.” I rinse away the smoke and grab my lavender shampoo. The calming effect will do him good. I massage his scalp.

  “That feels amazing.”

  I perk up at the first sign of life. When his hair rinses free, I pull the plug.

  “Step out, and I’ll grab us towels.” He steps onto the rug. I towel him down with the black Egyptian cotton towel I use when I need a little pick me up. Dried and clean, we brush our teeth before we head into the bedroom. I toss his boxer shorts and an old Station 49 T-shirt onto the bed. I shimmy into a clean nightgown and quickly swap the old sheets for fresh ones.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask as he sinks down onto the side of the bed.

  He runs his fingers through his hair. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

  “I can understand that. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  “I want to shut my brain down.”

  “I know a person who’s really good at helping me do that.” I climb into his lap and wrap my legs around his waist. “Maybe I can return the favor.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Shhh. Let me make you feel good.” I nip at his bottom lip. He growls. He sucks my tongue into his mouth, and I grind into the bulge beneath me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my breasts against his chest as I savor the lingering minty taste on his tongue. I rake my nails gently across his scalp.

  We surface for air, and he grips my hips tightly. “You’re so beautiful.”

  “I want to take my time and taste every inch of you.”

  “Later.” I speak the promise against his lips as I kiss and nibble my way down his neck. I dust his clavicle bone with my tongue.

  “You have on too many clothes.” I tug at his shirt. He rips it over his head, and I explore the lean muscles that ripple with his movement. I tug on his erect nipples. He groans, and I untangle my legs and crawl way to continue my exploration. He buries his head in my hair as I nip and tug at his flesh, observing his responses. His muscles flex and release. Reaching the band of his boxers, I trace the line between them and his belly with my tongue. He strains against the plaid fabric.

  I cup him through the cloth. He jerks his hips toward me, and I chuckle. Finally, I’m the one in control. Any other time I’d tease him. Not today. I hook my thumbs in the sides of his boxers and pull them down. He springs fr
ee. I admire his length and width, stroking the eight inch, mid-sized muscles that curves just slightly to the right. I roll my head around his slit, gathering the pre-cum that spills free.

  He growls.

  “I like it when you make that noise.” I take him into my mouth and open my throat. He thrusts up, and I gag. His fingers twine in my hair and I know nothing about what’s happening is going to be gentle. I gag a few more times before I catch the rhythm and relax my jaw. I take everything he has to give, sucking and tightening my throat as I breath in between the pounding he’s giving my mouth. He groans loudly and pulls my hair taut. I hum. He chokes out a strangled cry as he spills down my throat. I swallow it all and clean him up before I pull away and collapse on the bed beside him.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  I kiss his cheek. “Shhh. Time for more sleep now.”

  He laughs as he pulls the blankets up around us.

  ***

  “Oh,” I moan as I wake soaked in a puddle of my own juices while a tongue laps at my bundle of nerves. I try to roll my hips, seeking more friction, only to find them pinned down.

  “My turn,” Zeke growls. I peer down between my parted legs to meet his blazing green gaze. I shiver under the intensity. He holds me captive as he goes back to work, flicking, stroking, and sucking my clit. I grip the sheets and whimper.

  He pauses. “Your mom left hours ago.” He slaps my thigh. I cry out. “I want to hear you.” He dives back in, thrusting his tongue deep. I arch my back as I explode around him. Moaning, he slurps me down, adding two fingers. His relentless pass sends me tumbling over the edge again, fast on the heels of my first explosion. He adds a third finger.

  “I-I can’t.”

  “You can do it. One more time for me, baby.” He angles his fingers, hitting the spot inside of me that makes my body quake. I struggle to breathe as my entire body tenses. White washes over my vision and I find myself floating in the ether. I come down to feel tears on my face.

  “Wh-what―”

  “Shhh. You found your sweet spot, honey, that’s all. You’re fine.”

  I blink up at him. “I’ve never had that happen to me before.”

  “Good.” He kisses my forehead. My stomach growls.

  “We should get out of bed.”