Inflame: Midnight Cove #1

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Inflame: Midnight Cove #1 Page 6

by Laramie Briscoe


  “I knew you working here wouldn’t be forever, Em. Don’t think I’ll be upset if you do decide to quit or cut it down to one day a week. You’ve worked hard your whole life, it’s time you let your hair down and have a good time. Do something you enjoy doing. It won’t be the end of my world,” she smiles softly. “I’ll miss you because you’ve become such a good friend to me, but the co-worker will find another co-worker.”

  I’m thinking much harder than I’ve ever thought about changing my life. This is all thanks to Ash, and it amazes me how one date with someone can make me question the decisions I’ve made so far. I never thought showing someone what I like to do in my spare time would lead to me possibly changing my life. I’ve never had that kind of courage before. Who knows, maybe I’ve been waiting for someone like him to pull the spunk out of me. “I think I’d like to give up one day a week if that’s okay. See how it works out.”

  Bridget gives me a real smile, there’s no irritation behind it. She honestly looks happy for me, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen... “That would be good. I have a teenager who’d love to take that day for you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I realize I’ve set forth something into motion I might never be able to stop. The scary thing is, I don’t think I want this to end. I think I want to see what kind of a woman I can become with Ash around.

  I never believed in one person being able to change your whole life. That was Sabrina. She went on one date with her now husband and the next day she told everyone she loved him. The following week they were engaged. I always gave her the side-eye, especially when she’d look at me with a syrupy smile on her face telling me. Girl, when you know he’s the one, then you know he’s the one.

  This whole not believing stuff? I have a feeling it’s about to backfire on me in a huge way, and I’ll be the one eating my words. As I clock out for the day, hanging up my apron, I leave with a lighter step than I’ve had in years, looking forward to possibly spending some more time with Ash.

  Nine

  Ash

  When I wake up again, I’m hard as a rock, brought upon by dreams of Emma and her ass bent over that pool table last night. It’s not very often I’m alone in my house. Hell, it’s not very often I’m alone period.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I roll over onto my back, running my hand down my chest and stomach, pushing it below the band of my boxers. I’m at full attention when I grasp my dick. I don’t expect this to last long. It’s been a while since I even jerked it. Jerking it isn’t exactly something you want to do when you know your daughter’s on the other side of your bedroom door. It’s never been something I’m comfortable with, so I’ve gone without instead of giving into basic needs.

  Those needs are now knocking on the door. I grit my teeth as I drag my palm up my length, then push it back down. God, it feels so damn good. Better than it actually should. I’m not a teenager dealing with out of control hormones anymore. I’m a grown man who should be able to control myself, but it’s been too fucking long, and all I can think about is the woman I was with last night.

  The way her long hair curled at the ends, the tips brushing where her nipples would be if they weren’t hidden behind her clothes. Closing my eyes, I wonder what they look like, are they sensitive? Does Em like them being sucked or bitten? Yes. I decide quickly. Yes, she does.

  That decision turns quickly into a fantasy. One where I’m licking and sucking on her nipples, biting, scoring them with my teeth, leaving marks so that everyone knows she’s mine. I push my boxers completely off, spreading my legs wide on the bed.

  She’s there, kneeling in the middle of my legs on her knees. There’s a naughty smile on her face as she looks at my cock, standing at attention for her, begging to be taken between her lips. When fantasy Emma takes it, I shiver, my body shaking with the need to let go. And while this is about gratification, I kind of want this session to last at least a few minutes.

  Reaching down underneath me, I grab my balls while I fuck the circle my hand has made, imagining I’ve got my fingers threaded through Em’s hair, holding her mouth on me, while I thrust into her warm mouth.

  “Fuck,” I moan, tilting my head against the pillow. I didn’t realize how long it’d been since I did this. I’m already about to blow.

  “Take it,” I tell imaginary Emma. “Take it all,” in my mind I’m thrusting down her throat, and she’s sucking my cock like a goddamn Hoover.

  My feet flex as I stave off the orgasm. Imaginary Emma tells me to fuck her, in the most sex kitten of voices I’ve ever heard, and I want to do as she’s asked.

  I’m in between dream and reality here. Turning over onto my stomach I fuck my hand, letting my dick push against my comforter, mimicking thrusting into her hot pussy. Sweat drips down my chest, as I thrust harder, needing to get deeper. Grasping the headboard with one hand while I continue to fuck my other, I use the leverage to swing my hips out, then thrust in.

  “Oh God,” I throw my head back, sweat pouring down my cheeks and throat. “Fuck,” I keep thrusting. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” My rhythm falters, and warmth splatters all against my hand, up my stomach as I pull my cock back towards me, drops hitting my chin as I pant, grunting one last time before I collapse.

  “Shit,” I roll over, although it takes some effort on my part. With my clean hand, I wipe my eyes, trying to catch my breath. “Damn,” I push my hand down my stomach, trying to calm myself, but I’m sensitive, and the touch makes my skin jump.

  A laugh creeps out, and I have to shake my head. Whoever thought at my age I’d still be doing this? Definitely not me, but when it happens with me and Em, I’m sure it’ll be just as explosive as this session was. Of that, I have no doubt.

  Glancing at the clock, I realize I need to get ready for our date and hope like hell I can look at her without remembering this the entire night. If I can’t, this will either be the longest or shortest date of my life.

  Ten

  Emma

  When he knocks, my heart thuds in my chest. Glancing around my apartment, I hope it’s good enough. He’s got a house, that’s an actual home. This is the kind of stuff I worry about when other people come here. It’s not about how I see myself, but how they see me. I’ve been on my own for a while, and I’ve worked hard to have what I do. Honestly, it’s not much, but it’s mine, and I’m proud of it.

  Opening the door, I smile widely as I see him standing where we basically made out last night. It’s taken every bit of restraint I have to not to incessantly text him all day.

  “Hey,” he greets me with a smile probably as big as mine is.

  “Hey yourself, come on in,” I step back, so he has room to walk over the threshold.

  For many years this kind of night has played out in my mind. Not with other guys, although I dated a few others, it’s always been with him. I’ve wondered how it would go, hell I’ve thought up a million scenarios. Maybe more if I'm honest with myself. None of them even manage to live up to the living, breathing man standing in front of me. I didn’t realize how much I would love having all his attention. It’s more empowering than I thought it would be.

  When I move aside, he takes the space my body was, putting his hand on my hip, leaning in to kiss me. It’s not as aggressive as the kiss last night was, but it’s enough to heat me up. Especially when I’ve relived the kisses of last night every moment I stopped working. Clearing my throat, I do my best not to let my voice sound as shaky as I feel.

  “I ordered take out for us. I’ve been busy all day, and I figure cooking was the last thing you wanted to do, too,” I grab his coat, hanging it on the back of one of my kitchen chairs. Not having a coat closet makes situations like this slightly awkward.

  “Is this one of your cupcakes?” He asks, awe in his voice as he looks at the ones that will make up my latest bouquet.

  I blush at the attention since this is something I don’t share with a lot of people. “Yeah, you can eat it as soon as I take a picture of it. I just did this
for Instagram.”

  “You’re not selling these?”

  I shake my head. “No, not yet anyway, but I hope to be. That’s why I’m taking the picture. Talking to you last night got me thinking about my future. I don’t think I want to be working at Bridget’s the rest of my life. So it’s time to put the work in for what I want my actual career to be.”

  “These colors are Syd’s favorite,” he remarks.

  “I know, she’s always wearing pink and neon green shoelaces.”

  His eyes meet mine as the two of us stare at each other. There’s a softness to his. “You noticed that about her?”

  I nod. “Kinda hard not to.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he scoffs. “Her mom didn’t know she doesn’t like tacos.”

  “Ouch,” I wince as I think about how much it would hurt my feelings if my mom didn’t know what my favorite foods are. “That’s got to be tough on Syd.”

  “She’s a resilient kid, and I think I’ve taught her everyone deserves a chance,” he pulls his hat down a bit further over his eyes. It’s what I’ve come to understand is a nervous gesture. “But Court needs to bring it and prove to Syd she knows what she’s doing.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing a great job for the both of you.”

  He smiles, straight white teeth showing behind the beard. “I like to think I do,” he looks back at the bouquet. “How much would you charge for this? It’s something Syd would love. Her favorite colors and she likes sweets.”

  “You can have it,” I do my best to try and get him to take it.

  He argues. “No, I want to be your first customer.”

  “You’re not exactly my first customer.”

  “Damn Em, bust my balls why you’re at it.”

  Feeling my cheeks get warm, I laugh. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve had a few customers, but nobody for anything like this yet. I just wanted to try something different. I haven’t seen anyone else doing these, and I was kinda hoping to corner the market. At least for this town. This was me just giving it a try.”

  “Then let me be the first to buy the prototype.”

  It feels uncomfortable to me, asking him to purchase this. I made it because I wanted to, not because I thought he’d buy it. “Taking your money just seems wrong.”

  “And not paying for it just seems wrong to me,” he analyzes the cupcakes that mimic carnations with his eyes. “I mean this shit had to take a lot of time.”

  It did, but I don’t want him to know exactly how much.

  “This is true artwork,” he continues, heaping on the praise. “I’ve never seen anyone else make something like this with icing.”

  “Then you aren’t looking hard enough.”

  “Don’t,” he reaches out, cupping my cheek in the palm of his hand. “Don’t downplay your talent. This is great work, even me, someone who has no idea how to even ice a cake the regular way can tell this is something special.”

  It’s hard, but I finally give in, sighing deeply. “Forty dollars and the cupcakes are yours. I’ll wrap them up for you before you leave so they’ll be fresh for her tomorrow.”

  He reaches into his wallet, pulling out forty bucks. In the middle of all this, for some reason, I’m captivated by the way his hands work. The way the ink moves along with his skin. “Now was that so hard?”

  If he only knew. I take his money with a shaking hand, swallowing roughly when his palm touches mine.

  * * *

  Ash

  “It’s hard knowing my worth,” she admits, softly. “I’ve been in this comfort zone for so long. How much time have I wasted? When I could have been working towards something these last few years. Like what have I done besides finish high school and then start working? It’s something I had to do, but now that I realize where I am, I thought I’d be so much further than this by now.”

  I don’t like the sad look that’s overtaken her face. “Hey, no time is wasted, we’re learning every day. You know taking little experiences and making them bigger. Before you know it, we’ve lived an entire life. Every single moment you’ve lived has made you into the woman I’m standing here with tonight. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.’

  A small smile stretches across her face, it shows off a small dimple in her cheek, little lines at the side of her eyes. “I wouldn’t trade anything for you either.”

  “Good,” I lean down, kissing her on the cheek. “I don’t think I want you trying to trade me.”

  “C’mon,” she walks us over to her counter. “Let’s eat.”

  A few hours later we’ve finished our food, and we’ve had a few beers. It feels like a million years since I’ve sat on the couch with a beautiful woman and tried to act like it didn’t matter. When in fact it does matter. I haven’t sat on a couch with a woman since I was married. The couple of hookups I engaged in were done at hotels, that way there’d be no accident with Syd seeing them.

  We’re watching a movie, something that came out almost a year ago. Neither one of us has seen it. Her because she hadn’t wanted to see it in the theatre, me because I didn’t even know it came out. Adult movies, adult times, those are hard for me to come by, so I’m enjoying this more than I can say.

  “Do you mind if I snuggle in?” She asks, putting her arms around my waist. “This place is drafty, and it’ll get cold tonight, especially if we get the storm we’re supposed to. The heater can’t keep up, so I normally pile on the blankets.”

  Does she even have to ask me if she can get closer? I open up my arms to her, giving her the spot she’s so sweetly asked for. “C’mon in here.”

  Reaching over I put my beer on her side table, it allows my hands to be free. Wrapping my arms around her, I sneak my nose into the spot where her neck and shoulder meet. “You smell good,” my voice is soft, my eyes are getting lazy.

  “It’s my shampoo,” she whispers. “I love the smell of it.”

  “I do too,” I twist a piece of her hair around my finger.

  Before I know it, I’m leaning in, kissing against the soft skin of her neck. The noise she makes in the back of her throat is enough for me to know she’s enjoying herself. I’m not sure how we get there, but the next thing I know, she’s laying on the couch, I’m in between her spread thighs, and we’re kissing like two teenagers on their first date.

  My hands move down, gripping the hem of her shirt in my hands. We break apart long enough for me to pull it up and over her head. Her nails are trailing down my back, scoring skin that hasn’t felt a touch like this in such a long time. I’m moaning now, grinding my length against her, wanting her to feel how hard I am.

  “Ash,” she breathes, sighing as I wrench my lips away from hers.

  Moving down her throat and onto her chest, I plan to touch every single part of her I can see. Her nipples are hard, poking through the lace of her bra. Pulling down the material, I close my lips over the left, sucking slightly as I take the right in between my thumb and forefinger, worrying the tight nub. The groan I release is loud, deep, and conjures up moisture in my boxer briefs as I feel the head of my cock leaking against the cotton. At this point it’s been so long since I’ve had anything besides my own hand, I might come from grinding against her.

  She’s pushing up, allowing my hardness to rub against the softness of her core. “You feel so good,” I pause my assault on her breasts.

  “You do too,” she answers back, hooking her legs around my waist. “Do you have protection?”

  That’s when reality begins to creep in. I didn’t come here for this with her, and I don’t have one night stands unless they’re planned. “No,” I groan as I pull myself away from her.

  She giggles, but I can hear the strained tension. “Then we better stop, because I don’t either.”

  Stopping is a good idea, but telling that to my hard dick? Tough.

  The two of us disentangle our limbs from one another, both breathing heavily. I want nothing more than to suggest we do something about our aro
usal, but at the same time, I know it’s not a good idea. Pulling my tight jeans away from my crotch, I rest my head against the back of the couch.

  “I’m sorry,” she’s putting her shirt back on, covering up the magnificent rack she has.

  “Don’t apologize,” I clear my throat. “Neither one of us planned this, and we weren’t prepared. I’m an adult,” I let out a pained laugh. “But damn this sucks.”

  She looks at me, her lips in a pout. “It does suck,” she agrees.

  Being responsible is the last thing I want to do, but she deserves it. We deserve it. Settling back against the couch, I open my arms up again. “Let’s finish this movie, and then I’ll be a good guy and go home.”

  Emma bites her lip. “Okay.”

  When she gets comfortable, I look down at her, hooking her chin with my finger, forcing her gaze to mine. “Just know next time, I’ll be prepared.”

  She giggles. “So will I.”

  Eleven

  Ash

  It’s been a slow day at the firehouse. Definitely better than sitting at home by myself, but I haven’t seen Syd since she went to her mom’s, and I’m missing her. My phone vibrates inside my pants, when I pull it out, I see a text from my mom.

  Mom: I picked up Syd at school. She wants to see you, just wanted to make sure you aren’t on a call.

  It’s been too long since I wrapped my arms around my girl. My fingers actually shake with excitement as I text my mom back.

  A: We’re here, please bring her by. I missed her!

  “What’s got you smiling like that?” Gunner asks as we sit across from each other at the table. I’m eating a sandwich, and he’s working on a speech he’s preparing to give at our annual award ceremony. “A text from your date?”

 

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