Big Hose (a firefighter single mom romantic comedy) (Size Matters Book 2)

by Blake Wilder

  I’d expected her to keep the door ajar as a way of protecting herself from me. The closed door pleased me. Either she was starting to trust me or—as the kiss in the kitchen suggested—she was finished fighting this attraction between us.

  We swung by the kitchen to grab the two cups of coffee she’d made—we both drank it black—and returned to the living room.

  There was something I’d been wanting to know, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure how to ask.

  “George likes you,” she said, opening the door for me without realizing it.

  “He’s a great kid. If it’s not out of place, can I ask about his dad?”

  Hope put her mug on the end table and sighed. “There’s not much to tell. I guess it’s best to say he falls into the category of sperm donor. He’s never seen George. I didn’t even tell him when he was born.”

  I frowned, wondering what kind of guy didn’t want to meet his son, especially one as cool as George. “Old boyfriend?”

  Hope bit her lower lip, the gesture completely adorable. “There’s no way to tell this story without me looking like an idiot.”

  I put my coffee cup on the table and reached for her hand. “I wouldn’t worry about that. I got a whole arsenal of embarrassing stories myself. Bet I’d win in a game of one-upmanship.”

  “I’m tempted to put money on that because this story…” She paused, but I could see the wine had loosened her inhibitions. She was going to tell me, so I didn’t press her.

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. Here it goes. I met Alan my sophomore year of college. I told you my dad was military. That basically meant I grew up in a pretty overprotective environment, and I didn’t date much in high school. When I got out from under my father’s thumb at college, I went a little wild. Parties, drinking, making out with guys.”

  “Just making out?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows at her. I expected her to confess to more, but she nodded.

  “Yeah. Alan was my first. He was this hot frat guy—a junior—and I was crushing hard on him. He invited me to a party one night. Three vodka tonics later, I was in his bedroom at the fraternity house. Ten minutes later, I was no longer a virgin in bed with a passed-out, drunk-off-his-ass naked guy. Three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. When I told Alan, he seemed genuinely shocked to find out we’d had sex. Which isn’t really his fault. I left two seconds after he passed out, and then avoided him like the plague.”

  I sat there for a few seconds before I realized my mouth was hanging open. I closed it, then tried to say something. I didn’t have a clue what.

  Hope giggled. “Ada had the same response. Told you I’d win.”

  “Let me just clarify something,” I said. “You lost your virginity and got pregnant on the same night?”

  She nodded. “I dropped out of school when I found out, moved home, and that was that.”

  “Wow.”

  She laughed, clearly not bothered by my reaction. “I was lucky, actually. My mom and dad have been super supportive and they adore George.”

  “What made you move so far away?” The more I learned about her, the more I wanted to know. She took everything in stride and I liked her easygoing approach to life. She got dealt a tough hand and instead of crying about it, she rolled with it, finding success anyway.

  “Dad retired and they planned to start traveling. The RV was packed and gassed up twenty minutes after he left work that last day. My mom grew up in Kansas, spent her childhood here and she’d always talked about it fondly. Never mentioned the damn tornadoes, though.”

  I laughed.

  “Anyway, I thought it was time for a fresh start somewhere new, so I started looking for teaching jobs online and came across Bootlick.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  She leaned toward me, giving me a pretty good look at her cleavage. I could tell the move was intentional. Hope, in her own awkward way, was trying to flirt. I took the bait because…well…her tits were amazing.

  I reached for her and she shifted closer. I ran my hand over the front of her shirt, squeezing one of her breasts. She released a long, nervous breath.

  “How long has it been?” I murmured as I kissed the side of her neck, reaching for the hem of her shirt, intent on slipping my fingers underneath it for a better feel of her tits.

  “What?” she whispered, her eyes closed, her arms wrapped around my neck. The air in the room had grown warmer. I could smell the wine and coffee on her breath and my mouth watered for a taste.

  I kissed her again, my lips pushing hers open so my tongue could touch her. Hope ran her fingers through my hair, then she tightened her grip. I needed to slow things down. There was no way I was going to take Hope here on the couch with her son sleeping just down the hall.

  Unfortunately, that resolve weakened with each passing minute as we continued to kiss—I ran my mouth along her neck and she shuddered. Then she took one of my earlobes between her teeth, nipping it like she was my personal sex kitten, and my resistance fell away.

  I shifted over her slightly as she lay down on the couch. We kissed for several minutes as she tugged my hair and I reached beneath her shirt and cupped her breast.

  “Hope. We need to slow down, sweetheart. George…”

  Her face was flushed, her breathing labored. “Oh God. Please don’t say that. It’s been so long and I’m so…”

  “How long?” I repeated the question, aware that while my cock was rock hard and uncomfortable as hell in my jeans, Hope’s arousal appeared even more painful.

  “I told you,” she said, wrapping one leg around my thigh, thrusting against it. “Sophomore year.”

  I froze. “You haven’t had sex since the night you got pregnant? The night you lost your virginity?”

  It felt as if someone had doused me with a bucket of ice-cold water.

  Hope looked at me, confused, and I realized she really was tipsy. She’d drunk the whole bottle of wine, and even though we’d only spent a few days together, sober Hope struck me as someone responsible and composed.

  That did not describe drunk Hope.

  “When would I have had sex since then, Jake? I was pregnant, then I had a baby. And I lived with my parents, for God’s sake.”

  I sat up. She’d clearly been privy to the gossip surrounding me, so her behavior right now made no sense to me. “And you thought you’d break that dry spell with me?”

  Hope pushed herself upright as well and I could tell she didn’t know how to respond to my question. “I, um, well, I mean I kind of got the impression that you…” She sighed. “I don’t know how to say this without it sounding bad.”

  I felt my temper rising. “Try it anyway.”

  She must have sensed my anger, and for some reason, it sparked hers. As such, she let it fly. “I heard from several people that you’re good in bed and you aren’t looking for a relationship. I thought it might help me if I…have some casual sex before I seriously get back into the dating game again.”

  My gut ached. Hope was exactly like the women I’d been avoiding the past few months. Just interested in a night or two with my dick, my personality unnecessary. “You’ve had sex one time and you thought a night or two with the Big Hose was a good idea?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What a stupid nickname. I have no idea what fighting fires has to do with sex, but it’s clear I’ve pissed you off somehow.” She blew out a long, slow breath and her features softened. “I thought there was a shared attraction. I know you’re not looking for anything long-term, so I thought there would be no harm, no foul if we acted on it. I didn’t mean to upset you. Truly I didn’t. I’m sorry, Jake.”

  That was when I realized Hope didn’t know about Big Hose.

  God. She didn’t know.

  As if that shoe falling wasn’t enough, the other one dropped right next to it.

  Hope Connor was practically a virgin and I wanted her.

  And not just in my bed.

  She wasn’t wrong to say I didn’t want a relations
hip. Up until about thirty seconds ago, I didn’t.

  But now…

  Fate had a fucking twisted sense of humor because only that bitch would jerk me out of my bachelorhood like this.

  “I’m not mad,” I said, trying to find a way to convince her. I’d been short with her, mistaking everything she’d said.

  “It’s okay.” Her tipsiness was fading fast. Her cheeks were flushed and some of her shyness was returning. “I can see I misunderstood what was happening between us. I guess”—she looked at me as if she still couldn’t quite figure out what the problem was—“you prefer older women?”

  Hope Connor had been in Bootlick five weeks and somehow she’d heard every single one of the stories that circulated around town about me.

  I shook my head. “No, Hope. Age doesn’t have anything to do with this. It was a misunderstanding on my part.”

  She waited for me to explain, but I couldn’t.

  No, I wouldn’t.

  For the first time in my life, I was out with a nice woman who didn’t have a clue what was hanging between my legs. I wasn’t in a hurry to reveal the beast just yet. Because a big part of me—and not just that part—was afraid she’d run screaming. I didn’t want this thing between us to end until I had a chance to prove to her there was more to me than my reputation.

  “What kind of mis—”

  I took the coward’s way out, cutting off her question with a kiss.

  Hope was still for a moment before her hands were back in my hair. God, I loved the way that felt. She shifted and tried to straddle my lap. There was no way she could do that and not feel what I didn’t want her to feel.

  So I stopped her, returning us to the position we’d been in before I nearly fucked up the whole night.

  “Jake,” she whispered.

  “Shhh. It’s okay, Hope.” There was a blanket hanging over the arm of the couch, so I grabbed it, shook it out, and put it over us from the waist down.

  “What are you—”

  “We’re not having sex,” I stressed. “But I can tell you’re hurting.” I unbuttoned her jeans and slid the zipper down. “Let me make you feel better.”

  She lifted her hips to allow me to tug her jeans down.

  “Kick them off,” I directed. “If George comes out, you’re covered up. He won’t see my fingers inside you.”

  She shivered and her jeans and panties hit the floor. “God, yes.”

  I ran my hand along the outside of her bare thigh. Her skin was soft. She felt like silk. Her harsh, excited breathing drove me on, made me harder, hotter. There was nothing I wanted more than to thrust my dick inside her, but I needed to find out just how fucking impossible that was going to be first.

  Hope’s legs parted when my fingers drifted inward, skimming over the light smattering of hair. I dipped lower and touched her clit. Hope’s hips thrust up and she gasped like I’d pulled a trigger.

  Oh yeah. She was primed and ready to go. It wouldn’t take too much effort on my part to push her over.

  “Tell me you at least got an orgasm from the dick of a frat boy,” I murmured as I kissed her cheek.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “So you’re giving them to yourself? With cucumbers?” I asked with a wink.

  She laughed softly. “I considered the cucumber, but felt too stupid to try. I got a vibrator in the mail yesterday, but I was afraid it would be too loud and George would hear.”

  I was already lightheaded from the lack of blood making it to my brain. Every word she said kept pushing me deeper and deeper into a realm of utter disbelief. Hope was practically a virgin and she’d never had an orgasm.

  She was the exact woman I’d spent a lifetime avoiding.

  Now I couldn’t stay away if my life depended on it.

  I ran my finger along her slit. She was just as wet and hot as I expected. I was surprised there wasn’t steam rising from her pussy.

  Moment of truth.

  I slid one finger inside her and knew I was fucked. Her pussy clenched. Even just that one finger was a tight fit.

  “Holy. Shit,” she whispered. Her eyes closed as she started moving against my finger. I slowly added a second, thrusting them in and out a dozen or so times. Then I wiggled my thumb over her clit and just like that, she came.

  I captured her cries with a kiss, trying to mute the sound, so we wouldn’t wake up George. Her inner muscles quivered against my fingers, but I kept them there, loving the feel of it, trying not to imagine how good it would feel against my cock.

  Once she started to settle down, I pulled my fingers out, lifting them to my mouth for a taste as Hope watched me.

  “That was…” She struggled for the word.

  “Amazing,” I said.

  She nodded. “I had no idea it would feel like that.”

  I sat up slowly, gingerly, my dick constricted in the denim. I needed to get the fuck out of here and get home. This hard-on wasn’t going away on its own, which meant jerking off in a cold shower. And sooner would be better than later.

  She pushed herself up, and damn if the astute woman didn’t catch my slight wince. “Jake,” she started to reach for my dick.

  I gripped her wrist. “No. Not with George here.” And not until I could figure out how I was going to fuck her without hurting her. Two fingers stretched her pretty tight and my dick was at least as wide as her wrist.

  “I can tell you’re hurting too,” she insisted.

  “I’m a big boy, Hope. I know how to take care of it.”

  She smiled, but I could tell she wasn’t convinced. “Hardly seems fair considering what you just did for me.”

  I kissed her. “I want to see you again.”

  Hope hugged me, her arms circling my shoulders. “I’d like that too.”

  If I didn’t get out of there, I wouldn’t be able to leave at all. I’d never been much for after-sex cuddling, but I thought it would be nice if Hope and I could strip off all our clothes, slip between her cotton sheets, and hold onto each other until we fell asleep.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure something out.” I stood up and she walked with me to the front door. We kissed again, then I stepped outside. “Lock the door this time.”

  She grinned. “Yes, sir.”

  I waited until I heard the lock snick into place, then I walked to my car.

  It was going to be a long fucking night.

  Five

  Hope

  I parked my car next to the ball field and was surprised when Ada pulled up next to me in the lot.

  George was out of the car in an instant, glove already on his hand. “Can I go now?”

  “Go on,” I said, knowing there was no way I’d be able to keep up with him. He’d been beside himself all week, waiting for tee-ball to begin.

  He darted across the grass to where a group of young boys was already gathered.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Ada when she emerged from her car. My question was answered when her niece, Clara, hopped out.

  “Ike and my sister-in-law both had to work late, so I volunteered to bring the munchkin to practice.”

  Clara wasn’t much more patient than George. “Aunt Ada,” she urged.

  “Go on,” Ada shooed her. “We’re right behind you.”

  I was glad Ada was here. The idea of watching five- and six-year-olds attempt to catch, hit, and throw thrilled me about as much as dental surgery. At least today I’d have someone to talk to.

  My resting bitch face was firmly in place.

  “You’re in a mood,” Ada said.

  I tried for a smile, but failed miserably. “I’m at tee-ball practice, for God’s sake. Pair that with the fact I’m fighting like a dog to get laid and failing, and there’s just not a lot to smile about.”

  “Still can’t manage to make a sex connection with Jake, huh?”

  “No,” I replied grumpily. “And the happy effects of that orgasm have worn off.” I’d told Ada all about dinner with Jake, from t
he spaghetti and the fact I’d drunk too much wine, right down to where he rocked my world with just two fingers.

  Ada was surprised Jake and I hadn’t done the deed, even though I’d explained George was in the house. Her reaction led me to believe he wasn’t the type to hold back from sex for any reason. Especially not when he had a half-naked woman lying next to him. Which had me questioning his desire for me…again.

  “Well, I hope you achieve this hookup sooner rather than later. You’re starting to obsess over the guy. I’m worried you might end up getting hurt.”

  Ada was a good friend, and while I could tell she genuinely liked Jake as a person, she insisted he wasn’t a good bet for the long term. According to her, he’d never—not once in the time she’d known him—spent more than a month with the same woman. I appreciated her warnings and reassured her that my only goal when it came to Jake was one night in paradise—er, his bed. After that, I promised to return to the land of responsible adults, to resist all future bad boys, and to set my mind to the task of finding George a good dad.

  Ada and I headed for the field and I did a double take when I realized Jake was kneeling down in the midst of all the kids.

  “What’s he doing here?” I murmured.

  “Didn’t he tell you? Jake is the coach,” Ada answered.

  And just like that, tee-ball went from the last thing on earth I wanted to do to something I would live for each and every day. I suddenly found my smile.

  Ada groaned. “Shit. It’s already too late. You’re a goner.”

  I wasn’t. Or…at least I hoped I wasn’t.

  All I wanted was sex with Jake, just to get my pesky hormones under control. Then I could commence seriously dating someone who would be a good father to George.

  Jake and I hadn’t managed to seal the deal yet because life kept getting in the way. For two days after what I was referring to as one of the best nights of my adult life, Jake was battling a nearby brush fire. On Friday, George came down with a nasty stomach virus that kept both of us home from school. Then, sadly, it had been Jake’s weekend to be on call at the fire station, so here we were, a week away from that orgasm and seeing each other for the first time.