“Do you still think you can handle this?” he asked me finally. “Do you still want anything to do with me?”
“Is that what tonight was about?” I exhaled softly, blinking up at him. “Trying to scare me off?”
“I’m not trying to scare you off. I’m trying to show you who I really am, Des--”
“Well I already told you, I can handle it,” I said firmly. “I want all of you, Rory. Even the parts you’re not proud of. There’s nothing you can show me or tell me that’s going to make me run away. Not bad memories or burning houses or--”
“I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.
“Y-you what?”
“I love you, Des,” he said. “I’ve loved you since we were little kids. Ever since that day my mother dropped me off on your doorstep.”
“Rory…” my lips fell apart and all of my breath slipped out. I felt dizzy and my arms were weightless and numb as I wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer to me. “I’ve always loved you, too.”
His lips found mine, and we kissed.
Then we turned away from the giant wooden skeleton of a house that never was, and Rory held my hand as he walked me back towards the car.
After spending the night revisiting our past, it was time to make some new memories...
***
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Rory offered when we got back to his apartment.
“That’d be nice, thanks,” I nodded. I slipped off my denim jacket, then I followed him towards the kitchen.
The apartment felt strangely quiet without Charlotte. I was drifting around the empty kitchen when something on the countertop caught my eye, a colorful magic marker drawing.
“Oh… I was supposed to give that to you earlier,” Rory smiled when he saw me staring at the picture. “That’s from Charlotte, to you.”
“She drew me a picture?” I gasped.
“I think technically it’s supposed to be a thank you card,” Rory smiled, uncorking a bottle of wine and emptying it into two glasses.
I lifted up the sheet of thick, pink construction paper. Along the top, in impressively neat block letters, Charlotte had written, “THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FRIEND!” Underneath that, there were three stick figures drawn in magic marker. Rory was drawn in all black, and he had a giant smile across his round face. My stick figure was also smiling, and had a crazy mane of kinky black curls. Between the two of us, Charlie had drawn herself. We were all holding hands, and Charlie and I were wearing matching pink dresses.
“This is amazing!” I said. “I’ll have to write her a thank you card back!”
“You made quite the impression on her,” Rory grinned, slipping up behind me with the pair of wine glasses. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you. I think she might be obsessed…”
“Oh, really?” I smiled, taking one of the wine glasses and cradling it under my chin.
“Mhmm,” Rory murmured. Then, in a low whisper, he added, “And so am I.”
I felt his rock-hard body press into me from behind, and I instantly melted backwards into him as he gently brushed aside my black curls and planted his lips on my bare neck.
“I’ve been a little obsessed lately, myself,” I confessed, rolling my head to the side as his mouth kissed a trail towards my jaw.
“Have you?”
I nodded, and I felt his hands wrap around my hips from behind, squeezing into me through my thin cotton sundress.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night at the pool,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks color as I spoke.
“What do you remember about that night?”
“Everything,” I murmured. “What you did to me…”
“Could you be more specific?”
My cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink and I bit down on my bottom lip. I felt torn between being bashful and brave, but the pounding heat that was flooding my panties seemed to indicate that brave was going to win the fight.
“The way you touched me,” I said.
“Touched you where?”
“Here,” I planted my hands over his and slid them down towards my throbbing sex.
He ran his palm across my stomach, then he pointed his hand down and cupped my pussy through my skirt. I could feel my panties fogging with the damp heat that was rolling out of me, and I knew that he could feel it, too. His breathing was getting heavier and heavier…
“What else?” he grunted into my ear.
“I can’t stop thinking about the way your cock looked through your briefs,” I confessed, pressing my hand behind me and running my fingers along the stiff outline of his shaft protruding through his torn up denim jeans.
“Were you checking out my cock?” he exhaled, leaving a hot cloud of breath on my neck.
“Maybe,” I confessed. My cheeks darkened even more, but I was too full of fire to waste time being shy. “I wish I could have gotten a better look, or maybe even a taste…”
“Mmm,” Rory exhaled again. His breathing was getting husky and strained, and he gripped my pussy again through my dress as he rolled his hips into my ass from behind.
“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Rory grunted. “We aren’t done talking about you yet…”
“Why don’t you tell me what you remember from that night?” I suggested, tracing my tongue over my lips.
“I could do that,” Rory whispered. “But I’d rather show you…”
He slipped down so that he was crouching behind me on his knees, then he ran his palms up the backs of my thighs and pressed up the hem of my dress to reveal my bare ass, barely covered with a pink thong.
His hands continued climbing up my back, pressing down and easing me forward until I bent down and rested my elbows on the countertop and my ass in the air. Then he slid back down, crouching between my legs.
He gripped my knees and guided them apart, then he filled the space between my thighs with his tongue.
“This is what I haven’t been able to get out of my head,” he grunted as he lapped up the slick juices that had spread from my lips. “The way you taste....”
My mound quivered through my panties, and I blushed as he ran his tongue along the curve of my ass, tasting every soaking wet inch of me.
I was panting for breath, and the teasing was almost more than I could take. I needed him… now.
Rory seemed to read my mind, because the next thing I knew he had swept me off of my feet and thrown me over his shoulder like I was a rag doll. I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me towards the bedroom.
He dropped me down onto the mattress gently, then he kneeled down on the bed and started to roll up the hem of my dress. I lifted my hips and raised my arms so he could pull it over my head, then I sunk back on the bed. He sat back to look at me and his hand gripped his erection, squeezing through his jeans.
“Show me,” I said. “I want to see all of you.”
Rory raised an eyebrow, but he grinned and slowly reached for the fly of his jeans. He had them down and around his ankles in two seconds flat, and when he rolled down the waistband of his briefs I was paralyzed by the sight of him.
He was hung like a baseball bat. I’m not kidding; you could hit a home run with the amount of wood he had between his legs.
“You sure you can handle it?” he asked, giving his cock a tug.
“How many times are you going to make me answer that question?” I asked breathlessly. “I’m not changing my answer.”
He grunted in satisfaction, then he got a condom from the nightstand. I watched as he rolled it on, enveloping his giant cock in tight black latex.
“Black condoms?” I couldn’t help but tease.
“They match my wardrobe,” Rory winked. Then he crawled forward, positioning his body over mine and peeling off my panties.
He tugged at my underwear, pulling them down and then flinging them to the side. He moved his hand between my thighs and slipped his fingers into m
y slit. My skin was already slick and hot, ready for him, but he still tested my opening with his fingers; first one, then two. I moaned softly as I felt his digits dig all the way into my depths, until they prodded the spongy end of my tunnel.
Then he slid his fingers out and spread my legs apart. He gripped his shaft and guided it towards my dripping wet hole.
“You ready?” he asked me.
I was no longer capable of speaking, so I nodded my head silently and gripped the bed sheets in my fists as he slowly eased himself into my entrance.
I felt the burning sting of my walls stretching around his girth as he slid deeper and deeper inside of me, until I was full of him. That’s when the burn turned into a sizzling hot satisfaction.
He held himself all the way inside of me as he guided my thighs up into the air. Then he planted his hand directly over my mound and rolled his thumb over my clitoris as he drew his hips back.
One thrust was all it took to send me out of the solar system. Gravity disappeared. I didn’t need air anymore. His fingers were massaging my clit, and he had angled his cock so that every thrust was like a suckerpunch to my g spot.
I had never felt anything like it, and I was immediately overwhelmed. My entire body was filled with fire and sparks, and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into a cloud of white stars.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Rory grunted as he drove himself deep inside of me. His muscles contracted and sweat beaded over his chest, and he sucked in his bottom lip. He clenched his hand around my breast and squeezed, and my entire body trembled.
“Rory, oh God--” I gasped, just as I felt my body slip over the edge into pure bliss.
He slipped over the edge, with me. As the climax roared through my body, Rory heaved one final thrust between my thighs before he exploded.
He didn’t pull out afterwards. Instead, he stayed inside me as our bodies melted together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | RORY
“Alright, boys,” Josh Hudson announced, rubbing his palms together as he glanced at the eleven other Firehouse 56 crew members arranged around the poker table. “It’s time for the moment of truth…”
“By ‘moment of truth,’ I assume you’re referring to the victory speech I’m going to give after I clean you suckers out,” Troy Hart wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, flaunting the hand of cards pinched between his thumb and index finger.
It was Monday night and, after weeks of successfully evading invitations to join in the weekly Firehouse 56 poker game, I had finally found myself planted around the table with the rest of the crew.
Apparently playing poker every Monday night in the vehicle bay was a longstanding tradition for the crew at Firehouse 56. I had assumed right off the bat that I would hate it -- mostly because I assumed right off the bat that I would hate my colleagues. But I had been wrong on both counts; after a few rounds of beer and a few hands of poker, I found myself warming up to the idea of the tradition… and to the other members of the crew.
Well, most of them, anyways...
“Jesus, Troy,” Logan Ford rolled his eyes. “If you get any cockier, I’m gonna start thinking that you’re compensating for something…”
“Oh, he’s definitely compensating!” Bryce McKinley chimed in. “Underneath his cocky exterior and model good looks, our friend Troy here is just a hollow shell of a man with a teeny, tiny, withered up little--”
“Cock,” Logan finished for him.
“Actually, I was going to say heart,” Bryce said. Then he shrugged his shoulders, “But heart, cock… they’re basically the same thing.”
“Hell no, they aren’t basically the same thing!” Walker Wright whooped, shaking his head. “I don’t agree with that for one second!”
“Why not?”
“Well for a start, they serve two completely different functions!” Walker said. “A man fucks with his cock, but he loves with his heart.”
“So now you’re trying to tell us there’s a difference between fucking and loving, too?!” Logan demanded, raising his eyebrows skeptically.
“Does it matter?” Bryce shrugged. “When it comes to Troy Hart, it’s pretty safe to assume that both would be equally underwhelming.”
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information,” Troy grinned, unscathed by the banter. “My cock is a national treasure. I bet if you Googled it, you’d find all 5-star reviews!”
“Great,” Josh rolled his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll all have a really fun time Googling ‘Troy Hart’s cock’ later. But in the meantime, we have a game to play…”
“Right,” Troy said, remembering the cards in his hand. “Maybe if you all can stop thinking about my cock for five seconds, you can suck on this!” He flung his hand down on the table, face-up.
“That’s what you were bragging about?” Duke Williams glanced up over the top of his own hand of cards. “A straight?!”
“You think you can beat that?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone at this table can beat that,” Duke scoffed, shaking his head. Then he dropped his own hand on the table with a dramatic, “Bam!”
“Oh shit!” Josh heckled. “Someone call the Olsen twins, because we’ve got ourselves a Full House!”
“What’s that you were saying about a victory speech, Troy?”
“And THIS is exactly why I hate playing with you motherfuckers!” Troy grunted, kicking back from the table and stomping away.
“What’s his problem?” Brady Hudson frowned, watching Troy storm off.
“Sore loser,” Duke shrugged. Then he turned to the rest of the table, “Is anyone gonna beat my full house, or what?”
“Not me,” Bryce sighed, slamming his hand down the table.
“Count me out.”
One by one, the guys around the table dropped their hands in defeat, until I was the only one left with a hand of cards.
“Alright McAlister, let’s see what you’re hiding over there,” Josh asked me. “You got something that can bring Mr. March to his knees?”
“Pfft, yeah right!” Duke chuckled, taking a sip of beer. “Daddy Daycare probably thinks we’re playing Go Fish.”
“Dude, you got a problem with Go Fish?” Bryce raised his eyebrows defensively.
“Hey man, to each their own,” Duke shrugged, leaning back in his chair and resting his heels on the edge of the table. “If that’s what you want to play, maybe we can set up a kids table for you.”
“Very funny,” Bryce scowled.
I kept my face blank behind my hand of cards as I eased back into my seat behind the table.
“Go Fish,” I said, stroking my chin through my beard. “Hey Bryce, can you remind me again how that game goes?”
Bryce’s eyes narrowed, then a grin turned up at the corner of his mouth. He seemed to be picking up what I was putting down.
“It’s really simple,” he said. “You’re just trying to get four of a kind.”
“Hmm,” I nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds a little bit like poker, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does,” Bryce nodded, glancing towards Duke.
“Tell me something,” I said, stroking my chin again. “If we were playing Go Fish… what would you call this?”
I tossed my cards on the table and they landed, splayed out, in the perfect fan.
“Shiiit,” Josh whistled, standing up to admire my hand. “I’m not sure what you call that in Go Fish, but in poker we call that a royal motherfucking flush!”
The guys at the table immediately started hooting and hollering, all crowding around my side of the table to jostle my shoulders or congratulate me with a slap on the back.
Even Duke Williams seemed mildly impressed,
“Well played, bro,” he sniffed, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t suspect that poker face for a second.”
On cue, a couple of the guys launched into chanting the chorus of Lady Gaga’s ‘Poker Face.’ I just rolled my eyes and grinned.
> “Who’s down for another round?” Josh asked, scooping up all the cards and shuffling them back into a deck.
“Actually, I should probably head home,” Bryce said, drowning the remainder of his beer. “It must be getting late--”
“Booo!” one of the guys hissed, cupping his hands around his mouth. Another voice chimed in, “Come on Dad, stay out past curfew tonight!”
Bryce just chuckled.
“Hey, I’m more than happy to stick around if you boys wanna pitch in to pay for my babysitter,” he shrugged.
“Quit being cheap, McKinley,” Walker rolled his eyes and gave Bryce’s shoulder a shake. “What’s she charging you, anyways? Five bucks an hour?”
Josh and Brady exchanged a glance, then both shook their heads and chuckled.
“What?” Walker asked, sounding perplexed.
“Five bucks?” Josh raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Forgive me, it’s been a few years since I’ve picked up a Babysitters Club book,” Walker smirked sarcastically. “What’s the going rate these days? Ten bucks?”
“Try twenty,” Josh said.
“Jesus Christ,” Walker whistled. “Twenty bucks an hour?! For that price, you better come home to find your kid speaking mandarin and doing long division.”
“That’ll cost you extra,” I grinned, shaking my head. “My babysitter back in Boston used to charge me an extra ten bucks for homework help.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Walker shook his head. “What little swindlers!”
“Speaking of swindlers,” Bryce said as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “My sitter charges time-and-a-half if I keep her past 9 p.m. on a school night. Which means--” he paused to glance at his wrist, then he grimaced “--that it’s time for me to get the hell out of here.”
We said our goodbyes as Bryce headed towards the rear exit at the back of the vehicle bay, then Josh turned to me,
“What about you, McAlister?” he asked. “You wanna bow out before your sitter runs up the meter on you?”
The Complete Firehouse 56 Series Page 74