Her Yankee Doodle Daddy (The Fireworks Series )

by Rebecca Gallo

  “Thank you,” I whisper before kissing him softly.

  He releases his grip and leans forward to kiss the base of my throat. Beneath me, I can feel his hardness and I grind against him.

  “Don’t be a tease, Libby. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands these days and all I think about is fucking you.”

  I laugh softly. “Aren’t you a little too young to be retired?”

  “Not when you start right out of high school.”

  “Did you always want to be a firefighter?”

  “Yep,” he answers with certainty. “My dad was a Fire Chief and I wanted to be just like him.”

  I brush the back of my fingers across his cheeks. “That’s sweet.”

  “Not as sweet as your pussy.”

  “Way to ruin a moment, Duke. I’m trying to get to know you.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says, sealing his apology with a kiss. “What else do you want to know?”

  He indulges every one of my questions, no matter how trivial or probing. The most surprising answers are about his two ex-wives. Both marriages ended for the same reason – he was gone all of the time.

  “They got lonely. One of them found the cure to their loneliness in someone else’s bed and the other realized she was okay with being lonely but didn’t want to constantly worry about my safety.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  He shifts, pressing his hard length against my center. “Are we done? ‘Cause I’ve had enough talking and now I’m ready for you to ride me.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.

  Duke tightens his grip on me as he stands and carries me into the house. He stops every few feet to kiss me, sometimes light and playful, sometimes hard and searing.

  “I bought you something today,” he says once he’s deposited me on the bed. He plucks a large black shopping bag from the top of his dresser and drops it in my lap.

  I peek inside and laugh. “Panties! You bought me replacement panties?” I pull out pair after pair and notice they’re all lace and pretty much impractical. “How in the world did you even know my size?”

  “Libby,” he says gruffly as he unbuckles his belt. “I don’t want to talk about your fucking panties or how I guessed your size. You’re mine and I take care of what’s mine. Now, get on your knees because it’s time I fuck your mouth.”

  He shoves his pants down his thighs and frees his cock from his boxer briefs. Just as he begins to stroke it, we’re interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

  “Son of a bitch,” he hisses. He quickly shoves his cock back inside his underwear and buttons his jeans. “Someone better be dead,” he bellows.

  I follow him to the front door and when he opens it, Mitch is standing on the other side.

  “Sorry to bother you,” he says. “Just looking for Libby. Had a hunch she might be here.”

  Duke opens the door and steps aside to let Mitch in the house. “It’s kind of late,” Duke rumbles.

  “It’s okay,” I assure him, which earns me a stern look in response.

  “Did you get a chance to make that list? It’ll help us out when we’re checking the local pawn shops.”

  I reach inside my pocket and pull out a piece of paper. “Yes, I did. I hope it helps.”

  Mitch takes the slip of paper and looks it over before tucking it inside a notebook. “Do you have any idea who might have done this? Ex-boyfriend with a grudge? Maybe a jealous co-worker?”

  “I just broke up with someone. His name is Bronson James but I don’t think he’d do this. He’d actually have to be interested in me.”

  Duke grunts beside me.

  “Anyone else?” Mitch writes down something in his notebook and then looks up at me.

  “Not really,” I say because truthfully, no one comes to mind.

  “What about those movers?” Duke asks. “They tried to scam her out of five-hundred-dollars, and I don’t think they were too happy when I stepped in.”

  Mitch smiles. “Saving the day again, Duke? I thought you were retired.”

  “When it comes to helping a beautiful woman, I’ll gladly step in.”

  Mitch asks me for the name of the moving company and anything else I might remember about the three guys. He writes down everything I say and occasionally, Duke offers information he remembers.

  “Do you have an invoice,” Mitch asks.

  “Yes, but it’s probably inside my house,” I answer.

  “If you could get it to us, it could be helpful.”

  I nod and tell Mitch I’ll get it first thing in the morning.

  “Thanks for your time, Libby,” he says, extending his hand toward me. Then he flicks his eyes to Duke and smiles. “I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  The moment Mitch steps onto the porch, Duke closes the front door and locks it. He turns his heated gaze on me and grins devilishly.

  “Get in the bedroom, Libby,” he purrs. “On your knees like a good girl because it’s time to suck Daddy’s cock.”

  Duke

  Next to me, Libby is fast asleep. Her lips are still swollen from my cock, her cheeks are flushed and there’s a soft smile on her lips. The look of total contentment. I slide out of bed and pad into the kitchen for a bottle of cold water. Leaning against the counter, I take a sip and glance out the window facing Libby’s house.

  What the fuck? There’s a light on inside and I can barely make out a shadowy figure through the blinds but it’s crystal clear someone is in Libby’s house.

  Back for more, motherfucker?

  I hurry back to the bedroom to check on Libby (still sound asleep), pull on a pair of jeans and grab my cell phone. I fire off a text to Mitch before I head out the door and over to Libby’s place. The front door is slightly ajar and I’m quiet as I open the new screen door before slipping inside the house.

  My gut clenches with nerves because this could either be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done or the bravest. I also can’t believe the audacity of this crook, coming back for seconds? Really?

  I can hear the sound of boxes opening but my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I pull it out and see Mitch’s reply: Stay put a-hole. Let me play cops and robbers, ok?

  Too late.

  Sweat drips down my temple as I walk slowly down the hall toward the light spilling out from the guest bedroom. I lean against the wall, breathe in deeply before taking my first glance inside.

  The man rifling through Libby’s boxes is dressed in all black. Black jeans, black hoodie, black tennis shoes. He’s not big enough to be Mr. Beefcake from the moving company and he doesn’t look like any of Beekcake’s friends.

  “Who the fuck are you?” My voice startles the man. I stalk toward him, forcing him to stumble over several boxes which is the perfect opportunity for me to lunge. I reach for the front of his hoodie and grab, twisting the thick fabric in my fist. “I said, who the fuck are you?”

  “Bronson?” He says, almost a little unsure.

  This is Bronson? Libby’s ex, Bronson? I should punch him in the dick for wasting eight years of Libby’s life and then I should break his nose for stealing from her. But neither of those things happen because Mitch storms into the room.

  “It’s about time you got here,” I say, dragging Bronson with me. “This asshole is all yours.”

  Mitch takes over, first cuffing Bronson before beginning to question him. I head outside and spot Libby on the porch of my house.

  “What’s happening,” she asks as she rushes down the stairs and into my arms. I smooth her hair and kiss the top of her head.

  “It’s all under control, baby. Don’t worry.”

  She tilts her head up and I can see the fear in her big blue eyes. “I woke up and you were gone. When I went to the kitchen, I saw the lights on in my house. I went to get dressed and saw the police cars.”

  She looks past my shoulder just as Mitch brings Bronson out onto the porch.

  “Oh my god,” she screeches, pushing past me. “Bronson! You br
oke into my house?”

  “I’m sorry, Libs. You took something accidentally and I needed to get it back,” he says apologetically.

  “And it was in my underwear drawer?”

  His face turns bright red. “No… uh, those were… Jesus, I think I’m going to use my right to remain silent for this one.”

  Mitch holds up a bag of pills. “We think he was looking for a stash. Found these on his person.”

  Libby storms forward, out of my arms, and slaps Bronson hard across the face. “Asshole! You’re dealing? Or using? Actually, I don’t want to know! Just give me back my jewelry box.”

  “Can’t. I sold it all. I needed cash fast.”

  Libby slaps him again and then begins to cry. I come up behind her and fold her into my arms. “It’s okay, baby. Mitch will track everything down. I promise we’ll get it all back.”

  She sniffles. “Just take me back to your place.”

  * * *

  In the morning, Mitch sends me a text letting me know Bronson gave them the name of the pawn shop where he sold the jewelry and they were going to recover the items. Libby will be relieved when I tell her.

  While I’m fixing my coffee, I notice the calendar on the wall. Time sure does fly when you’re having fun and tomorrow is the Fourth of July. Milltown puts on the best fireworks display in the area and I can’t wait to watch them with Libby. She’s definitely an unexpected firecracker after a series of duds.

  She shuffles into the kitchen, her red curls a mess, her eyes red and swollen.

  “How ya doing?” I ask her softly.

  She shakes her head. “I still can’t believe it was Bronson. Now I know why he lost interest in me, in our relationship. Drugs. God, he’s so stupid!”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” My hand slides up her arm and squeezes her shoulder gently. “I’ve got good news though. Bronson told Mitch the name of the pawn shop he went to and they’re sending someone to recover your items.”

  She closes her eyes and her body sags with relief. “Thank god.” She slurps her coffee and her eyes dart back to the window. “I’m off today so I guess that means more unpacking.”

  “I’ll get dressed and then we can head over.”

  She places a hand on my chest and smiles sweetly. “Can I have some time to myself? Just to process everything?”

  One eyebrow lifts. “I thought we were in agreement, Libby. You belong to me.”

  Her hands pop up in surrender. “I’m not arguing with you, Duke. I just need a few hours alone.”

  I purse my lips and think about her request. “Okay. But you’re mine tonight.”

  She smiles. “Absolutely.”

  I drain the last of my coffee and place the mug in the sink. “Tomorrow is the Fourth of July and Milltown really does it right. I thought we could have a picnic while we watch the fireworks.”

  “Sounds great! Do you want me to make something?”

  “How about some more of those homemade chocolate chip cookies,” I tease.

  She rolls her eyes. “You know, I can actually bake!”

  I reach out, circling her waist with my hands and bend down to kiss her. “Then surprise me,” I murmur against her lips.

  Three hours later, the smoke alarm in Libby’s house squeals so loud I can hear it all the way in my bedroom. I rush through my house and onto the porch. Smoke is streaming from the kitchen window as Libby bursts through the screen door, coughing and waving a hand in front of her face.

  “Stay put,” I tell her before I head inside.

  The stove is on fire. As in, flames coming from the oven. I search her kitchen for a fire extinguisher and luckily, there’s one under the sink. It’s a little dusty but hopefully it’s still charged. I find the pin and pull it before grabbing the nozzle and aiming it at the stove. My hand squeezes the trigger and a cloud of white shoots from the tip. I sweep the nozzle in front of the stove, making sure to aim it at the base of the fire until I’m confident it’s been extinguished.

  When I’m finished, I set the cannister down and call the fire department to have them come and check things out. I’ll probably get shit for this but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

  Libby’s on the front porch, gnawing on her thumbnail, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “You have got to stop crying, baby,” I tell her softly as I pull her into my arms. “It’s just a little grease fire. Who knows when that stove was last cleaned?”

  “Why is this so hard?” She sobs against my shoulder. “Why does the universe hate me?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “The universe doesn’t hate you, baby. The universe is sending you a message and you’re not listening.”

  Libby looks up at me with a pout as she wipes stray tears from her cheeks. “And what’s the message, Duke?”

  I grin. “You’re living in the wrong house, Libby.”

  Libby

  “No, absolutely not,” I say firmly.

  “Daddy knows best,” he hums.

  Our conversation is temporarily put on hold when a fire engine and a police cruiser pull up in front of my house. I try to hide my embarrassment with a hand over my face. The neighbors probably hate me. Well, all but one.

  Mitch exits the cruiser and I spot the small wooden jewelry box in his hand. I feel relieved when he hands it to me and I open it. Every single piece is there, including the emerald ring my great-great-grandfather bought for my great-grandmother on her sixteenth birthday.

  “Thank you so much for getting this back so quickly,” I say.

  “It’s my job,” Mitch replies with a shrug. “You should also know Bronson’s in the panty-selling business. As in, he’s been selling your panties online for cash. When you moved out, you took his source of income too.”

  I scrunch up my nose in disgust. “That’s so gross. Isn’t it illegal?”

  “Nope. Totally legit and pretty lucrative if you know what you’re doing.” Mitch looks back at the firemen who are slowly approaching. “Can’t catch a break, can you Libby?”

  “I guess not.”

  The firemen smile as they walk past me and enter the house; Duke hot on their heels.

  Mitch’s radio starts to squawk, and he listens carefully for a moment. “Sounds like I need to deal with a robbery. Stay out of trouble.” He winks right before he turns to leave.

  Inside, Duke and the other firefighters look thick as thieves. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re just standing around bullshitting, which is pretty much confirmed when they all laugh simultaneously.

  “Everything ok?” I ask hesitantly.

  Duke holds out an arm, beckoning me. “It’s all good, baby. Just as I suspected, a grease fire.”

  “Guess I won’t be cooking for a while,” I say even though I didn’t really cook that often before.

  “The stove at my place works great,” Duke says with a wink.

  The other firefighters start to back away. “This is getting a little personal. Duke, you don’t need to start fires to see us, ok?” One of them jokes.

  “Ha ha assholes,” Duke replies. “See you guys tomorrow?”

  They nod and assure him they’ll be at the Fourth of July festivities before leaving.

  “Grab some clothes and meet me next door,” Duke tells me.

  “I’ve got to call the landlord. I’ll be over in a little while.”

  He levels me with a glacial stare. “Libby, this isn’t up for discussion. I’ll do whatever I need to do to get you out of your lease but you’re moving in with me.”

  “Duke…”

  He places a hand on my shoulder, spins me and then bends me over the countertop. He lands a firm smack on my ass. “No arguments, Libby. Now, pack a bag and we’ll worry about the rest later.”

  An hour is apparently too long for Duke to wait. He bursts into my bedroom, grabs me around the knees and slings me over his shoulder.

  “You’re taking too long,” he grumbles in response to my protests.

  He doesn’t set me down until we’re i
n the bedroom, his icy blue gaze heating me.

  “I wasn’t even finished,” I pout.

  “I’ll get your bags when you finally admit this is your home, this is where you belong.”

  “Duke…”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear it, Libby. Home is where the heart is, and you’ve had mine since day one.”

  “Really?”

  He kneels down in front of me and wraps his arms around my knees. “Yes, baby. Don’t you feel it? It started out as a tiny little spark and now it’s a full-blown raging inferno.”

  When it comes to love, I’ve never been confident like Duke but even I can admit he’s made me look at things differently. He’s responsible for this sexual awakening I’m currently experiencing and deep down, I know he’s the only one I trust to push my boundaries.

  “I feel it,” I admit with a shy smile.

  Libby

  The Fourth of July has never been my favorite holiday. I’ve always been chicken-shit when it comes to fireworks, fearful they’ll somehow burn me. But this year, it’s different. Maybe it has something to do with the silver fox sex god holding my hand as we make our way through Milltown’s Fourth of July festivities. Duke does look fucking delicious in his red shorts and tight navy-blue t-shirt. And the aviators he’s sporting? Lord have mercy, get the hose and spray me down.

  “In case I haven’t told you, you look beautiful,” Duke says softly.

  I’m taking a risk tonight wearing a sweet little red and white striped sun-dress and I made sure to put on my favorite red lipstick that pops against my porcelain complexion.

  “But I hope you’re not wearing any panties,” Duke rumbles with a salacious grin.

  The sun is beginning to set, and it seems like the whole town is out, searching for the perfect spot to watch fireworks. Duke and I are no different and I’m perfectly content to let him lead the way. Until it seems like we’re moving away from the crowd.

  “Um, will we be able to see the fireworks?” I ask when Duke stops and begins to shake out the blanket we brought.