The Fireman's Feisty BBW

by Ella Roane

  Stella’s resulting smile tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing to me, but she takes mercy. She bites the meatball clean from the stick. Her eyes close as she savors the taste.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say without having meant to say it aloud. But now that the words are out there, I don’t back down. “It’s not fair how beautiful you are. I never had a chance.”

  Stella’s eyes open to look at me, but they just as quickly narrow. “You are a smooth talker,” she says. “Makes me think you’ve had lots of practice. Makes me think I’m one of many and that you’re just feeding me lines. But if that’s the case, why are you working so hard? You could have had me last night. You could have had me again this morning. I could’ve rocked your world all week long.”

  “Mmhmm,” I say, “and then dumped me at the end of it.”

  She rolls her eyes, but her smile stays playful. “Things have a natural progression. Why force them into being something they’re not?”

  “Why not get out of the way and let things be what they are?” I shoot back. “Trying to convince me that I don’t want to marry you isn’t going to work. You are the rest of my life. You’re my everything.”

  Her smile slips away, and her eyes become haunted with a darkness I’ve never seen there before. “But why? You don’t even know me.”

  I take a moment, trying to think of a way to explain how I feel.

  “Have you ever taken someone to the hospital who’s at death’s door, but you look at them and you know they’re going to make it, they’re going to be okay?”

  Stella shrugs one perfect shoulder. “Yeah, a couple of times. But that’s not the same.”

  “Sure, it is,” I tell her. “But let’s not talk about that. Ask me anything, anything at all that you want to know about me.” I don’t add “your future husband” to the end even though the words sound in my head.

  She picks up a stick of salad and bites off the tip end. Her eyes go wide with wonder. “How do they make this so good? It looks so simple!”

  I toss a scampi popper in my mouth and wait patiently for her to unfold the mysteries of my life to suit her curiosity.

  She eventually nods as if agreeing with herself on what to lead with, then asks, “Tell me about your cousin.”

  I smile big. She couldn’t have started with an easier topic? “Her name’s Suzanne. She’s the single mother of Oscar, my number one and only nephew—at least that’s how I think of him. She works as the curator for a museum in Ontario, Canada.”

  “Oh, wow! That’s a long way away. But they used to live here?”

  “Yeah, they came to stay with me after her husband took off with the babysitter.”

  Stella winces. “Ouch…”

  I wave a hand of dismissal. “He did her a favor. Now she’s free to find someone who truly deserves her love.”

  “How long did they stay with you?”

  “About six months, long enough for her to put herself together again and realize there’s someone out there who will be so much more to her than him.”

  Stella smiles, and it reaches her eyes. They soften with a depth of caring that again makes me want her on her back with me inside of her.

  I tell Stella all about my cousin and her son, how wonderful they are and how happy they are now. She asks me about my favorite foods, hobbies, and even what side of the bed I like to sleep on. I answer them all, holding nothing back. I’m an open book.

  “And why did you become a firefighter?” Her gaze intensifies when she asks the question. This means something to her.

  “Well, that’s because of my little brother. See, my mom worked two and sometimes three jobs to keep us fed and a roof over our heads. She did great, but it didn’t leave much time for parenting.”

  I pause to take a bite of a pork and chive bun, and Stella fills the silence for me.

  “So, you did the parenting, didn’t you?” Her eyes regain the deep, soulful caring that they’d held earlier.

  I nod, swallow my bite, then answer. “Yep, I did the parenting.”

  “How much older are you than him?” she asks, a worry frown forming between her brows.

  I shrugged my shoulders, trying to be nonchalant. “A bit less than four years.” I’d done what was needed. I wouldn’t change much about my childhood, other than to make it easier for my mom. But as for me, I don’t regret having been the stand-in parent for my younger brother. Being who he needed me to be made me the man I am today.

  “And how old were you when you started having to look after him?” she asks.

  I pause to think. “I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s just always how it was.” I think some more. “I guess it happened gradually.”

  “Your dad wasn’t around?” Stella rolls her eyes to the heavens and shakes her head. “The things I ask. Please, let me know if I go too far.”

  I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it. “Nothing’s too far for you.” It earns me another one of her pretty blushes. But then I get on with answering her question. “Dad died when I was five, but he was sick for a couple of years before that. He broke his back on the job and sort of…” The memories come back to me, sweeping away all the years between then and now. I have to clear my throat before going on. “He sort of wasted away after that. His body got… smaller. I thought he was the strongest man in the world when I was little, but after the accident, his body grew frail. But he told me I was strong, strong enough for everyone. It was him who taught me how to take care of my brother while Mom was at work. Then one day he went into the hospital and, well, never came out.”

  Stella’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. It’s that kind of reaction that keeps me from sharing my childhood with others. I don’t want them to see me as someone to pity. I’m not a scared little boy. I never was. I was a little boy with all the strength and courage my parents gave me, and they gave me a lot. That’s what people don’t understand when I tell them about my formative years. But somehow, I don’t mind Stella looking at me that way. I don’t feel pitied. I just feel loved, seen, and known.

  Stella clears her throat and swipes away an escaping tear. “So how does that tie into you becoming a firefighter because of your little brother? I swear, if you tell me it’s because your house burned down and something happened to your brother, I’m gonna break down in full-blown sobs right here and now.”

  I laugh and give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “No, nothing like that. I’ve always just been my little brother’s protector, so when he came home and told me he was going to become a firefighter, I knew I had to do the same. Otherwise—”

  “Otherwise,” Stella says, interrupting me, “you wouldn’t have been there to protect him.”

  I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. “Exactly.” She gets me. She is the one.

  She leans her shoulder into mine, and I wrap my arm around her. We take turns feeding each other until the food becomes forgotten.

  I take her lips with mine, and she gives in with a gentle surrender I haven’t seen in her before. She moans as my kisses trail down her neck, and her leg drags up mine when I pull her hips closer against me.

  Stella captures my face with her hands and guides me to look at her. “Is there somewhere else we can go? Someplace more private?” She bites her bottom lip as she waits for my answer.

  I hesitate. I almost tell her no. If we go somewhere private, I’m afraid of what I’ll do. I don’t think I’ll be able to resist her. She’s too wonderful, too perfect, and I’m too far in love. If I don’t tell her no now, there’s no way I’ll be able to tell her no later.

  “I—” I start to say, but Stella interrupts. She does it with one word. It’s a word that slays me.

  “Please,” she says.

  “Yes, my love.”

  Chapter 19

  Stella

  I don’t know where we’re going. I only know I’m with him. We’re back on his bike, driving through the cold night. The moon has lifted itself into the sky, and stars twinkle like voyeu
ristic fans of us. Two lovers, alone in the world.

  That’s how it feels. Me and Brad. Nothing else exists. There’s just us and an infinity of time before us. I’ve never felt more complete. My heart has never felt more full. And I realize with a start that I have within me for the first time in my life a complete absence of fear.

  Leaning in closer against Brad’s back, I tighten my arms around his waist. The hum of the bike intensifies ever so slightly as we go up a steep hill, followed by a sharp deacceleration.

  Brad leans to the side, and I lean with him, matching his movements perfectly. The nose of the bike turns to cut across the road. It looks as though we will be driving into the chaotic spread of trees before us, but as we enter their domain, a path becomes visible.

  The bike moves slower, but its balance never falters. Over lumps and bumps and small turns, we follow the weaving path through the forest domain until, like magic, the trees stop at the edge of a glade. The moon shines down upon it like its own personal spotlight.

  Brad brings the bike to a slow rolling stop near the center of the fairy glade. The forest surrounds it on three sides, but the fourth is open to empty air as the earth falls away in a cliff overlooking a distant river.

  Staying on the back of the bike, I pull the helmet off my head. Brad does the same.

  “How did you find this place?” I ask, spellbound by its beauty.

  “A buddy of mine is a herbologist,” Brad says. “We found this place while hunting wild ginseng.”

  “And is this buddy a girl or a guy?” I ask, feeling a niggle of insecurity and jealousy.

  Brad laughs and rubs his hand along my exposed thigh at his hip. “Does it matter?”

  I swing a leg over the back of the bike to dismount it, but I put a hand on Brad’s shoulder to keep him from doing the same. I then climb back on the bike, but this time I do it in front of him, facing him. My thighs are spread wide, and he’s between them. The dress slits allow me to drape my bare legs over his. The dress’s center flap keeps my modest bits modest.

  “It matters… A little,” I admit. “I guess it’s like giving a girl a bouquet of flowers you’ve already given to someone else. There are just some things you want to believe that are just for you.”

  Brad’s smile is slow to come, and his eyes seem to drink me in. “There’s only been you here with me like this. No one else.”

  I believe him all the way down to the very spark of my soul.

  His arms tighten around my waist, and my hands cup the back of his head. We lose each other in a kiss that has me barely noticing when one of his hands slips under my dress at the front. I gasp into his mouth when his thumb strokes up my center over my panties. His touch makes me wiggle, and I lever myself higher by squeezing my thighs and lifting myself up. If I’d thought that was going to buy me a moment of relief from his teasing touch, I was mistaken. My new height gives him better access to me. His fingers slip under the narrow wedge of cloth covering my most sensitive parts. His thumb trails the edge of my lips before sliding between them.

  The pad of his thumb rubs the spot just above my most precious opening and then swirls its way slowly upward until it’s my clit that he’s circling.

  Pleasure and the need for something more builds inside of me. My hips rock up and down with the need to ride him.

  “Please,” I whisper against his lips. “I need to. I need you.” I grind my hips

  I angle my hips so that I can grind myself against him. His hand is trapped, but I use its position well. My body shakes with its growing need for release as I take my pleasure into my own control. But yet, it’s not enough. I want more. I want him.

  “Please!” I cry out, not bothering to keep my voice low.

  “Tell me what you want,” Brad growls. “I need to hear you say it.”

  “I need you inside of me,” I whimper. “I need your cock.”

  “Baby, I told you. You’re not getting that until you marry me. I didn’t even bring a condom. I didn’t want to take a chance of breaking down and losing myself inside of you. But I can give you these…”

  His strong arm loops itself low around my hips at the same time as his other hand shifts. I cry out, filling the night air with my scream when two of his fingers thrust to their full depth inside of me. His thumb stays on my clit. Soon, I’m sucking his hand for all I’m worth. Gyrating my hips up and down and writhing against him. His lips and teeth tease and nip my neck, but I want more.

  My hands fly to the tie that holds my wraparound dress together. My fingers shake with urgency as I race against my coming orgasm. I need my dress open. I need to be exposed to him. I need to give all of myself to him.

  Finally, I manage it, and the night air caresses my bare skin. My bra fastens in the front, and I release the girls from its harsh hold, laying myself bare for him. Then I lay back on his bike, pulling him down over me.

  His kisses travel down my throat and chest until his mouth captures one of my nipples. He sucks it in hard, and I arch up into his mouth. All the while, his fingers take me. But still, it’s not enough. I need him. All of him!

  “Fuck me, please,” I beg. “I need you inside of me, really inside of me. I don’t want to come like this. I want to come on you, and I want you inside of me.”

  “Marry me,” Brad demands. His fingers stop thrusting, which leaves my insides screaming in complaint. “Marry me,” he says again, before capturing my other nipple to abuse it with his tongue, lips, and teeth.

  I wriggle my hips, trying my best to get from him what I need, but it’s no use. If I want all of him, I’ll have to give in. But is agreeing to spend my life with a man who loves me to the stars and back actually a surrender of anything? Or is it a triumph…?

  “Marry me,” Brad demands again, this time even abandoning my nipples.

  I reach my hands over my head and grasp the bike’s handlebars. I wiggle, moan and arch my back, but nothing relieves the intense need Brad has created within me. My head feels like it’s going to explode. My whole identity wants to shatter. A part of me needs him more than I need to protect myself. Somehow, I begin and end with him. There is no existence without him.

  I squeeze my core around his still fingers, but it does me no good. I gasp in the night air in great gulps, but I still feel like I’m drowning. I can’t do this. I can’t give him what he wants—but if I don’t give him what he wants, I can’t have what I need.

  “Marry me,” Brad demands again.

  Tears sting my eyes, and a pain scores the inside of my chest. It is as though scar tissue has ripped open to release what I’ve been holding back. Love. Unfiltered, unashamed, and fearless love.

  A sob escapes me, and I nod my head. “Yes,” I cry out. “Yes, I’ll marry you!”

  Brad’s hands are a flurry of motion. Then I feel his smooth, hard head pressing at the entrance of my core. He pauses. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  My eyes are wide, and my entire body is trembling, yet I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I nod my head and whisper, “yes.”

  Brad’s heavy thickness fills me in one long hard thrust. I wrap my arms and legs around him, holding him as tight as I can. He follows one thrust with another, each one driving me closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Despite that, my mind races with the weight of what I’ve just agreed to do, yet I find I’m okay with it. No, that’s not right. I’m happy. Truly happy.

  Laughter bubbles up through my throat and mingles with my moans. Only Brad’s mouth on mine gives my joyful cries pause, and even then, they mutate into a happy hum.

  “I love you,” I say and mean it with all my heart, body, and soul.

  “Not more than I love you,” Brad manages to get out before gritting his teeth and sinking his face into the curve of my neck.

  My breath catches as he swells even larger inside of me.

  “Oh, God!” I cry as his driving hips and relentlessly thrusting cock send me over the edge. The tension that had built up in my co
re releases, sending waves of heady pleasure coursing through me.

  A molten heat warms me at my core as Brad’s body shudders and a deep groan vibrates its way up and out of his chest. Two more thrusts have him collapsing on top of me. His arms hold me tight. Eventually, his mouth finds mine once more.

  “No going back?” he asks, worry squinting his smoky eyes.

  I’ve had him now, after all. I can understand how he’d be worried I might go back on my word. But there is no going back, not for me. He’s won me over. Now he’s stuck with me for the rest of our beautiful, wonderful lives. I know that things won’t always be easy, but we’ll face life together. And maybe I won’t have him until we’re old and gray. That’s the reality of being with someone who does the work he does, but I’m willing to face the pain to have the joy. I’ll cherish every day we have.

  “No going back,” I tell him. “I’m yours. Forever.”

  Chapter 20

  Brad

  How did I get so lucky? I wonder, marveling, watching my baby girl juggle tasks. The weeks since we got engaged have been the happiest of my life.

  “Mom,” Stella says into the phone as she weaves a path between the stacked packing boxes.

  It’s been three weeks since that night in the glade. Now our wedding is only two weeks away. We’ve worked out a lot of the details. I moved in with Stella in order to help her pack up her place so that she can move in with me.

  “Yes, yes. You heard me right. I’m getting married!” Stella says.

  I hear Stella’s mother say something in reply, but I can’t quite make out the words. Stella shoots me a nervous glance. Followed by an awkward smile.

  “Yes,” Stella says, lowering her voice even though there’s no point. I’m right here in the room with her. “I’m sure.” She pauses. “Yes, it’s the firefighter I told you about.” Stella follows up her words by blowing me a kiss.