His Firecracker: Sassy Girls Series

by Reynolds, Rory

  “You don’t sound happy about that. I thought the nursery was your Disneyland? You know, the happiest place on Earth…”

  I can’t help but laugh a little at that even though laughing is the last thing I want to do. “Yeah, but working a double means I have to call this really hot guy I know and cancel my date with him.”

  “Ahh. I see. That does sound terrible. The poor schmuck.”

  “It sucks. I was really looking forward to seeing him.”

  “He was really looking forward to seeing you too.”

  My smile widens at that. I love that he was looking forward to seeing me too and that he might be just as disappointed at having to cancel as I am. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

  “What if I were to bring you something to eat during your break?”

  I think about that for a second. I didn’t tell Sara about my date with Drake when she asked earlier, and if he comes up here, it’ll take less than a minute for everyone to know that I’m dating someone.

  …And I don’t hate the idea. My privacy has been everything to me. I’ve been in hiding for so long that its second nature to keep everyone at arms-length. The less people know about you, the less they can tell someone if anyone ever comes asking questions. I’ve been here for three years now, and nothing has happened. I’ve got friends. Even if most of them are just co-workers. I’m dating for the first time since I ran from Frankie. Maybe it’s time to stop worrying about letting people in… perhaps it’s time to just live.

  “Or we could reschedule…” Drake says into my silence.

  “Sorry… I was just thinking.”

  “It’s okay if you don’t want me to come up there. I know it’s your workplace and important to you.”

  God, this man is so dang sweet. “I would love it if you’d bring me something to eat. And I’d like to reschedule our date.”

  “I can do that. Any requests?”

  “Surprise me.”

  * * *

  I’m back in my favorite rocking chair, feeding the newest arrival. I gently caress the fiery-red curls on the baby girls head. Little Ophelia was born with a whole head of curls, and she hates hats. Every time I put her little cap on, she screams bloody murder. So, her red curls are crazy and free, just like this little one’s spirit. I love all of the babies that come through here, but something about this baby has struck a chord with me.

  There is a light tapping on the big window that overlooks the nursery, and I don’t even try to hide my stupid-big grin when I see it’s Drake. He’s holding what looks like a picnic basket and a blanket. I open the door and wave Drake inside.

  “Is it okay that I’m in here?” Drake asks, looking unsure.

  “It’s not strictly according to policy since you don’t have a baby in the nursery, but…”

  Drake smiles, and my heart skips a beat in my chest. How is it that one crooked smile from this man can make me swoon? What is it about him? He looks around the room, then through the big window, satisfied with whatever he sees, he quickly closes the distance between us then presses a quick kiss to my lips.

  Just that small contact is enough to jump-start my libido. If I didn’t have a baby in my arms and if I weren’t at work—in the most inappropriate place ever—I’d climb the man like a tree and kiss him until neither of us could remember our names.

  “Let me finish up with this little one, and I’ll call down to have one of the aides come sit with the babies while I’m gone.”

  Ten minutes later, a very perturbed Chance enters the nursery. Crap. “Hey Chance! I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

  “Cathleen called out.”

  “Oh no, she has the flu too?”

  “Everyone has the fucking flu.”

  “Language!” I scold.

  “They are infants, they don’t give a shit,” Chance says with attitude.

  “Well, they might not care, but I do. What is wrong with you?”

  Chance’s eyes flick over my shoulder to where Drake is standing. His eyes narrow on me, and I feel extremely uncomfortable. Maybe Drake was right where Chance was concerned. I thought we were just friends and he obviously wanted to be something more. Crappity crap crap.

  “Nothing is wrong. Everything is just fucking fine,” Chance says in a tone that says things are decidedly not ‘fucking fine.’

  I mentally shake my head and decide to let it go. I feel guilty that Chance got the wrong idea, but I didn’t ever do anything to give him any hope that there would be more between us than friendly lunches.

  “Thanks for watching the babies. Page me if you need anything.”

  Chance rolls his eyes and plops down at the desk, pulling out his phone. Normally, I would say something about no phones in the nursery, but I let it go too. No sense in nitpicking with someone who is looking to pick a fight already.

  Drake holds the door open for me, a very grumpy look on his face causing his scars to stand out starkly. Even though Chance didn’t say a single word to him, I still feel sort of like they just fought over me like a couple of dogs with a bone. Ridiculous. I lead the way to the breakroom and cringe when I see Dr. Givens sitting at a table with one of the nurses. From the looks of it, she is getting a huge dose of the ‘charm’ Dr. Givens likes to pass around to the female staff. I just hope she’s actually receptive to his advances.

  “Why don’t we go see if anyone is in the on-call room. It’ll give us a little more privacy.”

  “Lead the way, firecracker.”

  Thankfully, the on-call room is empty. The door snicks closed, and I’m alone with Drake for the first time ever. In a room with a bed. Ho-boy maybe this wasn’t the best idea because now all I can think about is that kiss last night and the way his big hands felt on my body. I’m suddenly not even the slightest bit hungry for food.

  Drake sets the basket down on the cot and turns to me with a sexy smirk. “Cozy.”

  I look around the room, it’s a little bigger than a closet with nothing but a cot and a small shelf and a couple hooks on the wall. It’s made for function and not comfort. My mind firmly in the gutter is telling me exactly how functional that small bed could be. I’ve got imaginary-Drake halfway undressed in my mind when flesh and blood Drake pulls me into his arms.

  Those amazing hands of his hold me pinned to his chest while he presses gentle kisses to my forehead, cheeks, nose, until finally, finally, his lips find mine. When he lightly sucks on my lower lip, my mind short circuits and I fling myself at him. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down as I raise up on tiptoe to kiss him. His lips part and our tongues meet in a smooth caress. I can’t get enough of his cinnamon-y flavor. Over and over, our lips sear together. It’s the sweetest battle of wills to see who will give up control of the kiss. The best part is that no matter who is victorious, we will both be winners. This is a battle that has no real loser.

  “You wreck my control, firecracker.” Drake trails kisses up and down my neck, lightly grazing me with his teeth. Arousal unlike any I’ve ever felt before burns through my veins and I want nothing more than to strip him bare and push him down on the cot. I’ve never wanted a man more than I want him.

  “Good,” I moan as he sucks my earlobe, driving me positively insane. “Control is overrated.”

  “I didn’t come here for this…” Drake’s mouth says one thing, but the way his hands explore my curves says something else entirely. “You should eat.” Even as he says the words, he takes my lips in another kiss.

  “Not hungry,” I pant into his lips. His cock is a hard bar of steel between our bodies, and I can’t help rubbing against it. He pushes his leg between mine and instead of teasing him, I find myself grinding against his thigh. My pussy is so wet that I can feel my panties clinging to my wet folds.

  He groans. “You’re definitely hungry, firecracker.”

  “Starved,” I agree, deepening our kiss as my body moves against his. Drake grips my ass, guiding my frantic movements until they are long, slow overexaggerated motions
. Somehow, he knows exactly what my body needs. Under his control, I find the perfect combination of pressure and movement that has me teetering on the edge of release. Oh Lord, do I need the release. How long has it been? Months. Months and months since my last orgasm. How have I not missed this?

  “You’re going to rub this little pussy all over me until you come.” Drake’s naughty words ratchet up my need. “That’s it, little firecracker. Get there.”

  I kiss him with frenetic need. I kiss him like I want to crawl inside him and never leave. The whole while he guides my movements, encouraging me with his hand on my hip, his tongue in my mouth, his big, hard thigh pushing up against my core. I’m so close… my orgasm is just within reach, but I just… can’t… get there.

  I let out a frustrated noise and move a little faster. Drake’s grip tightens on my hip until I know I’ll have five perfect bruises from his fingertips and oh God, that just does something to me. “Shh… relax, love. Just let go.”

  Hah! Easy for him to say, I’m coiled so damn tight I might burst and not in a good way. Drake buries his other hand in my hair, gripping it tight until it borders on painful. He gentles our kiss until each drag of his tongue against mine is drugging.

  With one hand on my hip, gripping me tightly, and the other in my hair, I’m at his mercy. He controls everything from our kiss to the movement of my hips. And just like that, I let go. I give up my hard-won control. Its equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

  Giving up control in any way is a terrible idea. Giving up control of my body to a man is something I swore I would never, ever do again. Then why is it so damn easy giving up control to Drake? Why does it feel so right? Before I can analyze it to death, my orgasm crashes over me. Wave after wave of pure unadulterated bliss crashes over me.

  “That’s it, come for me.”

  Drake doesn’t stop kissing me even after I’m a boneless mess in his arms. Still, he kisses me. My pussy is so sensitive that the slightest flexing of his thigh causes me to twitch. My nipples are taut peeks, almost desperate for attention. Even though I just had the best orgasm of my life, I feel unsatisfied. I want more. I want to be filled with him. I want to feel his cock buried deep inside me, claiming me.

  I move my hands to his belt buckle and whimper when he catches my hands up in his and presses gentle kisses to them. “Not this time.”

  “But I want it,” I say with a petulant whine that makes me cringe a little. Desperate much, Joselynn? Jesus.

  Drake gives me a big smile, showing me his perfectly ruined smile, the one that I know for a fact, not many people see. He’s the king of the smirk, just a quick tip of the lips so he doesn’t draw more attention to the scarred side of his face. I love this worry-free smile. I love that it is reserved for me and his nieces and nephew.

  “When I finally get my cock inside your tight little pussy, I’m going to spend hours buried inside you. A quick fuck in the on-call room is not going to cut it.”

  Everything low in my belly clenches in response to his words. I want that. I want that so damn bad. But this doesn’t have to be sex. There are other things I can do for him. I picture getting down on my knees in front of him. I imagine his big cock springing free from his jeans and into my waiting hands. I wonder what he looks like… circumcised or not? What will he taste like?

  “None of that either,” Drake interrupts my fantasy as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. “If you so much as touch my cock, I’m going to fuck you here and now and as we’ve already discussed, that is not how our first time is going to go down.”

  Somehow, we manage to get our libidos under control enough to unpack the food Drake brought. Chicken salad sandwiches with fresh fruit and sliced cheeses. There is a bottle of sparkling grape juice and two plastic cups. I can’t help giggling when he hands me a cup with the Dark Knight himself printed on it.

  Drake gives a little shrug. “Blake threatened to cut off some important bits if I broke any of the ‘good glasses.’ I decided to play it safe.”

  “Good plan… I like your bits exactly where they are.”

  The food is delicious, and the company is even better. I hate that our time is so limited, but we make the most of it. By the time Drake is walking me back to the nursery, I feel almost like we had a real date and am no longer disappointed that we had to cancel our original plans.

  After a chaste kiss outside the nursery doors I’m practically floating my way back to work. I don’t know if it was the orgasm or if it’s just Drake himself, but I am lighter and happier than I’ve been in longer than I can remember. Chance leaves without a word. Thankfully, the rest of my shift goes by without a problem. Dr. Givens completely ignores me the few times he comes in, choosing instead to spend his time at the nurses’ station.

  When Pheobe comes in, I am beyond relieved. My feet are killing me, and my eyes feel like sandpaper. I give her all of the details on our patients and quickly make my way to my locker. I want to get my stuff and get out of here so that I can collapse into bed and not wake up for at least ten hours.

  * * *

  A loud knock drags me up from a dead sleep. I stumble to the door, bleary-eyed, barely remembering to throw on my robe as I go. I look out the peephole and don’t recognize the man on the other side of the door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Delivery for a Miss. Brooks.”

  “I’m not expecting any packages,” I tell the stranger, ever cautious. The paranoia of years in hiding is hardwired.

  The man shifts on his feet, looking impatient. He lifts his arms, and a big bouquet of flowers comes into view. I only hesitate for a moment before deciding to unlock the many locks on my door. I’ve never gotten a flower delivery before, but then again, I’ve never dated before either. At least not in this lifetime.

  I sign the slip accepting the flowers and quickly relock the door. As soon as I’m hidden behind my door, I bury my face in the beautiful bouquet taking in the rich scent of the flowers. They are gorgeous. Pink roses, lilies, little purple flowers I can never remember the name of but are one of my favorites. I pull the card from its holder. It’s a plain white cardstock, but that doesn’t matter because the three words written in bold, masculine script are enough.

  I miss you.

  The card isn’t signed, but I don’t care. There is only one person who would send me flowers, and I know exactly who it is. Excitedly, I grab my phone and send Drake a thank you text. I’ve only been asleep for three hours, but I can’t find it in myself to be annoyed at being woken up. I mean, if my sleep has to be interrupted, having a surprise flower delivery is a damn good reason.

  I decide to go ahead and take a shower and get ready for the day. I’ll never be able to get back to sleep with the excited butterflies flitting around in my stomach. There are a few texts waiting for me when I’m out of the shower from Drake.

  It was my pleasure, firecracker.

  I thought you’d still be in bed.

  Silly man. He sent the flowers, of course, I’m awake. Had a special delivery that dragged me out of bed at this godawful early hour. Totally worth it.

  His response is instantaneous.

  What are you up to today?

  I have a ton of chores I should do. Laundry and dishes are a must. I haven’t dusted in so long my apartment is one cobweb away from haunted house status. I need to go grocery shopping, too. The list feels endless, and I have no desire to do any of it. I’d much rather spend time with Drake, but I know he’s helping Blake today since Hutch left this morning to take care of some emergency out of state with one of his clients.

  Just going to do housework and I need to go grocery shopping, or I’m going to be eating my mail for sustenance.

  Ha! It would certainly be a high fiber diet.

  I laugh at Drake’s stupid joke. Dork.

  Always for you.

  And now I’m swooning. Those butterflies are more like hummingbirds now. I’m totally falling for this man, and instead of the idea terrifying me, it excites m
e. I feel alive for the first time in so long. It’s a feeling I don’t think I’ll ever stop craving.

  8

  Drake

  I haven’t seen Joselynn in four fucking days, and it is driving me insane. Texting and talking on the phone isn’t enough. I’ve never been one for talking on the phone, but I find myself looking forward to every phone call. We talk for hours after she gets off of work, only hanging up when she’s yawning, and I can tell she’s struggling to stay awake.

  I can’t even guess at how many times I’ve taken myself in hand and stroked my cock in the days since I last had my hands on her. No matter how many times I bring myself to orgasm, it doesn’t quench my thirst for her. It barely takes the edge off. I’m worried that I’m going to fall on her like a ravenous beast when I first lay eyes on her.

  “I’m so glad Hutch is coming home today,” Blake says, breaking me out of my sulk.

  “You miss him?”

  Blake snorts. “Yeah, but I that’s not why I’m glad he’ll be home.”

  “You going to tell me or make me play twenty questions?” I snap.

  Blake waves her hands in my direction. “That right there! You’re grumpy and refuse to leave the damn house to go see your girlfriend even though I’ve told you repeatedly I’m fine.”

  She’s not entirely wrong. I am grumpy. I love being here for my sister and her family, but when I agreed to move in and help, I didn’t have anything else going on in my life. Now it feels like being torn in two. Helping my family is a no brainer, but I also want to spend every minute possible with Joselynn.

  “Please tell me you’re seeing her tonight.”

  I roll my eyes and throw the pair of socks I just balled up at my sister’s head. She dodges with a laugh. “Yes, I’m going to see Joselynn tonight. She’s going to cook dinner, and we are watching a movie at her place.”

  “Ooo. Drake and Joselynn sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—” I throw another pair of socks at my idiot sister causing her to fall into a fit of laughter until she’s clutching her lower stomach and saying ‘ow’ between giggles.