Double Heat: Menage Firefighter Romance MFM

by Vanessa Kinney

  “I’m fine,” I answer, blowing hot air through my nostrils and pulling away from his touch. I cross my arms and walk toward the front door. I’m nearly there when King’s hands grab my shoulder.

  He turns me around and his hand dips my head back, forcing me to look at him. “What’s the matter?”

  “I thought you got shot or hurt.” I do one glance over his body, making sure that he really isn’t injured.

  His hand on my chin shakes before I hear him chuckle. “Is that why you came out here running with that broom in hand?”

  I nod. It seemed like a good idea in the moment.

  He picks the broom off the ground and runs his hands through the bristles. “You would have given him some deep scratches with this,” he says, holding back laughter. “Completely swept him away,” he hollers, throwing his head back with laughter.

  I roll my eyes and try not to laugh at his lame jokes. “I was coming to your rescue, jerk.”

  He sets the broom aside and brings a hand to my waist, pulling me toward me. “Thanks.” He stares into my eyes for so long that I have to look away. That’s when his gaze falls down on my chest. “You realize that you don’t have a shirt on, right?”

  I look down to see my nipples at full attention and pointing straight at him. I try to bring my hands up to cover them, but he holds them at my side. “Don’t. Let me enjoy the sight for a little longer.” After a couple of forceful pulls, I break free of his grasp and hold a breast in each palm. My cheeks are burning red, but I turn my attention to the door.

  There are several deep gashes on it. Some of them are at least six inches long and two inches deep.

  King grows serious and runs his finger along the grooves.

  “What do you think could do that much damage?”

  He looks a little closer and squints his eyes. “The only thing that comes to mind is a axe. The kind that firemen use to break into a burning building. Whoever was out here wanted to get in your apartment badly.”

  I run one finger along the groove, thinking of what would have happened if the person had gotten through. There would have been no way for me to defend myself. Not against an axe-wielding psychopath. And certainly not with a broom.

  I pull King’s chest against mine and sink my head into his body. If he hadn’t been here to protect me, I would be a complete and total mess. The only reason that I’m still able to keep myself together is cause of him.

  “Don’t leave me,” I breathe out.

  King’s hand moves through my hair and pushes my head against his chest. “Never.”

  Chapter 12

  It’s been two weeks since the attack on my door. King and I have every reason to believe that it was Tommy, but we don’t have any evidence to prove it.

  Meanwhile, King’s moved in with me. He sleeps on the couch outside and helps me when I wake up drenched in sweat and screaming. Every night, it’s a battle for me to get to sleep.

  I need King by my side, holding me and sitting next to me. It’s the only way that I can calm myself down enough to close my eyes.

  Although, the sleep only lasts for a couple hours. Every time I close my eyes, I see Tommy banging his axe against the door outside. Or Tommy at the side of my bed watching me sleep.

  I can’t escape him no matter what I do. He’s affected every part of my life.

  I can’t sleep. I can’t even paint anymore. Nothing about the loft feels safe anymore, even with King here.

  Lucky for me, Jean’s been able to buy some time for me. Appeasing the rich clients that have bought my work. I don’t know how long he can keep it up for, but I’m thankful he’s not pushing me to produce.

  Since King’s moved in, we’ve been working on fixing the apartment here and there. Trying to bring it back to normal. At least, as much as we can. Although, it will never feel like it used to anymore. Not after Tommy’s violated it over and over.

  I curl up on the couch and look at the clock. King should be home in thirty minutes.

  Home?

  Why does it seem like King and I are one happy family all of a sudden? I can’t help; but think what will happen after all this is over.

  I sip my cup of scalding hot tea and think of that hot, passionate night in my room. Nothing’s happened since then. Neither of us have made any moves toward the other.

  At least ones that are intentional.

  I let a smile break on my face as I remember the countless times I’ve caught King checking me out. I’ll never admit it to him right now, but I like the attention he gives me.

  The way he stops washing the dishes when I bend over to place them in the cabinet, his eyes undressing me. Or the way he clears his throat and his cheeks grow red when I catch him. I’ll never confront him about it. Only because I do the same.

  Over the last two weeks, there have been countless nights where he’s come home covered in oil and sweat. Sometimes forgetting that I’m home and undressing in the living room before hopping in the shower. Giving me eyefuls of his hard body and the package between his legs. Or even the accidental towel slips when he gets out of the shower.

  At least he says that they’re accidental. Part of me thinks that he’s lying. Just cause we’ve been apart for four years doesn’t mean I forgot his tells.

  The little smirk or twinkle in his eyes when he thinks he’s been clever and pulling a fast one over me. It didn’t work on me back then and it won’t work right now.

  I take a big gulp of my tea, letting the hot, sugary liquid burn my throat. Forcing me to wake up from my little dreamworld.

  If it weren’t for everything with Tommy, everything about this would be so perfect. Spending late nights with King, watching old romantic movies that we used to adore. Sharing every little detail from over the last four years that both of us had missed.

  Each day that passes, I can feel myself forgiving him a little more. The cold metal lock breaking around my heart. I find myself getting closer and closer to him. Telling myself that he’s been here with me when no one else was. Protecting and consoling me like no one else can.

  I walk to the kitchen, setting the mug in the sink. I lean against it and let my imagination take hold.

  Behind me the front doorknob jiggles a little. I spin around and press my back against the counter-top, body freezing. I watch it for a moment before I open a drawer and pull out a knife.

  It jiggles a little more before I hear the jingle of keys. The audible click of the locks fills the room and my grip tightens around the handle of my knife. All of my concentration is on the doorknob.

  The door opens slowly and King peeks his head inside. He looks at me standing there. His gaze falling on the knife in my hand. “Sorry. Hands are a little greasy and couldn’t get a grip on the knob.” He sets down his work duffel bag and walks toward me, taking the knife away and setting it aside.

  I can’t help it. Every little sound has me on edge.

  “I don’t feel safe in this place anymore,” I say for the umpteenth time.

  He pulls me in closer and strokes my hair. I don’t even care that his hands are dirty. All I need right now is just him by my side.

  “I know. I know,” he repeats over and over. “No one is going to hurt you while I’m here.”

  I just pull him closer and feel everything give way. I let him hold my body and he guides me to the couch. He rocks with me for a couple minutes before lifting himself up. “Where were we?”

  He walks over to the sink, washes his hands, and picks up a painting from the corner of the room.

  I point to the nail at the other corner of the living room. This is our daily ritual.

  King comes home. Together we put back pieces of the apartment. Fragments of what once was there before Tommy broke it all.

  King says that it’s the only way that I can move on. Some days it helps more than others.

  I wasn’t feeling it today.

  King gets to the tip of his toes, his brown work boots bending. He lifts the painting above his head and
tries to catch the string behind it. The back of his shirt rises and gives way to the muscles on his back.

  I bite my lip and take him in. I could eat him up right now. Covered in sweat and all.

  “Am I close?”

  “A little more.”

  He gets closer to the wall and gets at the tip of his toes, making his work shirt rise more. I take in the intricate tattoos on his back and watch him struggle, his skin turning a lovely hue of dark red as he breathes hard. When he finally gets the string on the nail, he lets out a breath and brings his hands to his knees.

  There’s a pool of sweat on his brow. I pick myself up and walk toward him, this time taking him by the chin. He looks at me with those blue prisms, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

  He’s about to open his mouth, when I place a finger on his lips. I pull him up and open my mouth slightly, giving him a light peck on the lips. He brings a hand behind my back and pulls me in for a deeper one, not wanting to let go. After a couple hearty slaps of our lips, I manage to pull away from his hot embrace.

  He runs the tip of his tongue along the middle of his lips. “What was that for?”

  “Just a little thanks for everything you’ve done the last couple weeks.” I peel away from him and and sway my hips side to side. I can feel his gaze on my ass and let him get a longer look before I slink into the bathroom to wash the grease out of my hair.

  “You’re never going to get rid of me if you keep doing things like that,” he shouts before I close the door.

  I turn around and poke my head between the small opening. “Oh, really?” I roll my eyes like the thought had never crossed my mind. “And why would I want to get rid of you?”

  I catch his right lip lift up in his signature smirk. I close the door and grip the bathroom sink. I bring a hand to my heart and feel it beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

  Slowly, but surely I’m falling back in love with Arthur “King” Stone.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter 13

  “All right, if something happens and I’m not here, just flick this switch,” King says, pointing to the newly installed light switch by the bedroom door.

  He closes the door and flips it down, and there’s an audible click of the locks. A little red light above my bed flicks on to let me know that the locks are in. King’s phone chirps.

  He flips it open and speaks into it. “Camilla, can you hear me?” His voice sounds off next to my head on the loud speaker.

  “Loud and clear.” He gives me a thumbs up and hangs up.

  “Is all of this really necessary?” I lift myself off the bed and look around my bedroom. A trail of wires spreads from the light switch that King’s standing next to and to the speaker behind me. The window now have a metal frame that I can close and lock if someone tries to come up the fire exit outside.

  Tommy hasn’t made any moves since the axe incident. It’s been quiet on that front and everything finally feels like it is getting back to normal. I’ve been able to paint and even got some work done for Jean, which he was super ecstatic about.

  “Probably not, but I want to make sure that you’re okay while I’m gone. Unfortunately, I can’t be here to protect you 24/7. This is for peace of mind for me as well.” He sets a screwdriver down to the side and flicks the switch up.

  The red light above my bed turns off and there’s a click at the bedroom door. He turns the knob and opens the door. “Ta-da.” He walks in between the door and opens his hands wide like a magician.

  I laugh a little and roll my eyes. “How do I know you’re not doing this just to trap me inside for your own reasons?” I quip, while making my way toward him.

  There’s something about him that’s pulling me toward him. Maybe, it’s the white wife-beater that hugs his chiseled chest. Or that stupid smirk of his.

  Every day that passes by, I feel like I’m loosing myself to him.

  He smiles and watches me, holding his hands open for me to fall against his chest. These last couple weeks have been so hard on both of us. Although nothing sexual has gone down there is so much tension in the air that I could cut it with a butter knife. Little kisses here and there are the only things that kept me going lately.

  Both of us are too scared to take it a little further. To take that next step into the unknown of whatever this is between us. Possibly breaking what we already have.

  I press my hands on his chest feeling the toughness of his muscles. He rests his chin on the top of my head and starts to hum. The vibrations move from the top of my head and down to my core. Putting us on the same frequencies.

  Both of us have the same idea in mind. There’s no need for words. Only action.

  Both of us need a little break. Something to break up the monotonousness of it all.

  My hands leave his chest and wander down. He sways me side to side to the rhythm of his humming. I can almost recognize the tune if I just give it a little more of my attention. Unfortunately for him, there’s something more important on my mind.

  My hands circle around the denim oil-covered work jeans and take a firm grip of his ass. I squeeze my palms together and enjoy the little hop of surprise.

  He presses his body against me. I bite and pull seductively on his wife-beater. I let my hand wander for a moment away from one of his cheeks, stretching out with a carefree hand to flick the switch behind him.

  The red strobe light behind me turns on. The light bounces off the wall around us. A second later, the locks click into place.

  Nowhere he can run.

  “Looks like we have a Code Red,” I tease, walking backward and pulling him towards the bed.

  He doesn’t try to stop me. We both know that his lunch break ends in ten minutes, but these are the perks of being the boss.

  “Is that right?” he mumbles. His hands glide down the side of my hourglass body, stopping behind just above the waist.

  I look back at his fingers with fake disapproval. Out of the corner of my eyes, a grin spreads on his face along with his fingers on my ass. With shivering anticipation, his palms fall lower and rest on my ass for a moment before squeezing tight.

  I spin around and let out a little yelp. I push him away, the warmth of his hands leaving my body. For a second, I regret my decision. But it goes away as quickly as it appeared.

  He falls down on the mattress. The sheets unfurl into the air and a pillow bounces off the bed. His body lifts a couple inches into the air from the spring of the mattress.

  Every other second, the red tint from the light bounces off his face. Illuminating the gleam of sweat on his body. He’s been working so hard to keep me safe.

  He should be rewarded for that. He will be rewarded. In due time.

  King plays it cool and props his head on his palm, a finger curling in front. Beckoning me forward.

  Always so sly and in control. That’s the King that I know.

  I roll my eyes until I’m sure he can see the whites. That’s when my footing gets taken away. I’m falling down to the ground before I feel King’s hands at my sides. Fast like a rattlesnake, he attacks me and throws me onto the bed.

  I fall hard on his chest and he holds me still with his hands. I force the breath out of his lungs, blowing my bangs away from my eyes. We both let out a little laugh before we look into each other’s eyes.

  The intensity of his gaze sends a whirl of blood rushing to my face. I turn away from his stare, heart beating faster than ever before. I feel like I’m about to give a speech in front of a crowd of people. I can feel the sweat gather on my palms just like pre-show jitters.

  I sink my head into the crevice of his chest and hide away. I know what’s coming up next. Something that I haven’t done in years. It’s been so long that I’m left wondering if I’m even good at it anymore.

  I rub my thighs together and feel the wetness between my legs. At least that part of my body is working. I’d been waiting for this moment ever since that night on my bed. Befor
e we were rudely interrupted by a axe wielding crazy.

  A hand moves through my hair and the other down the middle of my back. A shiver rolls up my body, forcing my head up. The moment my mouth is out in the open, he attacks. His lips touch mine with a hunger I’ve never seen before. A hand of his resting firmly on my ass.

  That was always his favorite part of my body.

  Never in my life have I felt so small and insignificant than in his arms. I could curl up and dream away the world if it meant being next to him. No one could take me away from him, not even Tommy.

  King makes the first move. He’s always been braver than me. Veins that run as cold as ice.

  His tongue slips into my mouth and I welcome it. The same familiar feeling from weeks ago. It ignites something inside of me.

  I run my hand down the side of his jaw, letting the hard stubble of his beard prick my skin. I press my hips down on him and and feel the hardness of his cock between my legs.

  I can hardly wait for the next moments. A soft murmur leave my lips and I force my tongue into his mouth, his eyes opening in surprise.

  Neither of us are holding back. We attack each other’s bodies over and over, trying to remember each other’s curves and bumps.

  Each roving pass of arms removes an article of clothing. By the end of it, both of us lay bare in front of each. Tattered remains of our clothes mix with the sheets of the bed.

  I cover myself for a moment. Unsure of how to feel. It’s been so long and it doesn’t help that I don’t even feel welcomed in my own home anymore.

  I steal a glance at his cock. Hard and erect, like I remember it to be. He catches me, but says nothing.

  He reaches out with a finger and moves a curl of my brown hair from my eyes, tucking it away behind my ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” His hand leaves my ear and goes down to my fingers that cover my breasts.