by Zoe Norman
I huff a laugh. “Well, they can join the gaggles of women staring at your ass and shooting daggers at me!”
We both look at each other, locking eyes, and start laughing hysterically. Owen puts his arm around my shoulders, pulls me close, and kisses me on the top of the head.
“It’s hard being so damn irresistible, isn’t it?” he howls.
“Very. Let’s go play check out your friends, shall we?”
Owen and I spend time down by the football game. He introduces me to some of the other girlfriends and the handful of firehouse wives. We watch the guys play before Owen joins the game. I run back at one point, grabbing my bag and blanket, and sit down on the sidelines with a few ladies. One in particular, Angela, is really nice. She’s dating a fireman who works in one of the other firehouses. They have been together for a couple of years, and she has had the same issues I have with the groupies.
“Huh. That bitch over there, with the crazy, red hair and the ‘I’m not actually trying to cover my ass’ bikini? She actually seduced Jimmy last year at this party—or at least tried to. He told me all about it and I told her off. She’s such a slut. She’s moved on now to another firehouse since she’s already worked her way through ours and Owen’s with no luck.” Angela’s thick New York accent is a something I could listen to for hours. She uses her hands to talk as well and has almost knocked me out on more than one occasion while telling me stories about the groupies. It’s clear that she’s not a fan of them, and I tell myself that Angela and I could be good friends.
About an hour later, the boys decide to stop playing as it’s getting dark and the food needs to be prepared. Owen does not cook often at home, but I know he can because he made dinner for me a lot when we were first dating. As the guys start to walk over to the fire pits that have already been built and set ablaze, Owen comes over to me, that amazing grin flashing across his face. When he gets to where Angela and I are sitting, he reaches for my hand, which I give him happily, and he pulls me to my feet, right into his waiting arms. He kisses me softly, his arms stroking my back.
“Your skin is warm from the sun,” he murmurs against my mouth.
I smile as he continues to kiss me, relishing his hands on me.
“And you smell good, like the beach,” he mouths over the sensitive skin of my neck.
I hum in acknowledgement of his compliment.
“And every time I’ve looked at you today and reminded myself that the most beautiful woman on this beach is mine, my heart has felt like it was going to explode out of my chest.”
I still. I’m a little surprised at this unexpected, oddly timed declaration of love from him. What’s brought this on? And why at the fireman beach barbecue of all places? I pull back and look into his eyes. He looks…unreadable. Even weirder.
“You okay?” I inquire, wanting to know what’s going on.
There are hoots and catcalls in the background, people yelling, “Get a room!” in our direction, but I don’t really notice that. Owen looks over my shoulder, concern etched in his eyes.
“I love you more than anything or anyone I’ve ever loved, Olivia. You know that, right?”
I nod. There is something up, and it’s kinda freaking me out.
“Molly is here,” he says quietly as he lowers his eyes. “She’s dating the chief of one of the other firehouses. They’ve been together for a while now. But I wanted you to know so you wouldn’t be surprised.”
He looks absolutely crestfallen. It kind of hurts my heart to see his face like this. He must be terrified that I’m going to lose it.
It occurs to me I can do one of two things. I can do just that—fall apart, walk away, go home, and sulk. Fight with him. Hate myself. This woman’s unexpected presence in our lives has separated us once already. I don’t want that to happen again. So the alternative is for me to suck it up, be a big girl, and remember that he asked me to live with him, that I do live with him, that he reminds me that he loves me every chance he gets, and that he has eyes for only me. So for once, I’m just going to trust him. Trust that he loves me as much as he says and shows me he does. Oh, and then I’m going to thank God I wore the sexiest bikini I own to this thing. At least I’ll look hot while I have an internal panic attack.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s just have some fun. I’m a big girl. I can check my jealousy.”
He smiles and leans back down, wrapping me in his arms. He squeezes me so tight it almost hurts and buries his head in my neck, in my hair, taking deep breaths.
“Jesus, you’re amazing,” he breathes into my neck. “I’m not sure I deserve you.”
I give him one more squeeze and put my hands on his upper chest, pushing him back. “I could say the same. Come on. Let’s go help them make some barbecue.”
We walk over to the pit, Owen’s arm casually around my shoulders, my arm around his waist, my hand in his back pocket. Owen joins his firehouse brothers over at the grills, and I help Angela and a couple of the other girls set up the buffet. In no time at all, dinner is ready, and Owen and I get our food and set up a little place to sit next to the bonfire. Everyone scatters around, getting comfortable, and the guys start telling stories.
“So then Andy comes running out of the bathroom, naked from the waist down, slamming right into the commissioner. I haven’t laughed so hard in my whole life!”
“Fucking probie. Almost got us in a shit-ton of trouble. Thank God Chuck had his famous chocolate chip cookies coming out of the oven! Saved our asses.”
Everyone chuckles at the story.
When I go to take a sip of my beer, I realize that it’s empty. I am sitting between Owen’s legs, my back to his front, relaxed. I turn my head upward to look at him and he plants a kiss on my forehead.
“My beer’s empty. I’m gonna go grab another one. Want one?”
“Yeah. That would be great, baby. Thanks.”
He kisses me again, this time on the lips, and slaps me on the ass when I get up.
I walk over to the table and start opening and closing coolers, looking for the pale ale I was drinking before and actually enjoyed. I’m not much of a beer drinker, but someone brought some interesting small-batch brews that I like.
“If you’re looking for the small batch, they’re over here,” a quiet, somewhat familiar female voice says from the other side of the table.
I look in the direction of the voice, and as my eyes adjust to the dark, I realize who it is. Molly.
“Oh, thanks,” I murmur. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I start to walk toward the cooler she’s pointing to.
She stands staring at me, and I try very hard to not look at her or give away how uncomfortable this makes me. I remind myself that no one would benefit from me feeding into any of my jealous feelings. In fact, it would just really undo a lot of the good Owen and I have had recently.
“You’re Owen’s girlfriend, right?”
I stop hunting through the cooler and freeze. I pause and plaster a smile on my face that I hope comes across as genuine.
“Yeah, I am.” I put my hand out to shake her hand. “I’m Olivia. You’re Molly, right?”
She looks shocked that not only do I know her name, but I’m being civil. The last time I saw her, I left Owen. I don’t have a lot of good reasons to not freak the fuck out, so the fact that I’m not makes me feel good, like the stronger woman.
“Uh, yeah, I’m Molly. How long have you and Owen been together now?”
“Just about a year. I, um, just moved in. So…”
Her eyes grow a little wide and some emotion passes over her face, although, in the dark, I can’t quite make out what it is. “Oh...that’s nice.” She puts her head down and then looks back up at me. “Owen is a really good guy. You’re a lucky girl. We didn’t work out, but I’m glad he found someone to love.”
With that, she walks away. Huh? That has to be the most bizarre ex experience I have ever had. I wonder if she just wanted to hear me speak, hear me confirm it. I think back on r
elationships I’ve been in in the past, mostly high school, where I saw the new girlfriend and I just needed to hear them speak, needed for it to be made real. Maybe that’s what she’s doing.
I finally grab two beers from the cooler and slam it shut. Then I walk back to Owen and kneel in front of him, offering him his beer.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“I saw you talking to Molly.” He looks nervous.
I don’t blame him. He has every right and reason to be concerned right now. Current meeting ex generally doesn’t go well. God help us, it definitely didn’t last time. But I’m not looking to ruin his night by playing games, so I nod my head.
“Yeah, I’m fine. She just asked who I was. Said you were a good guy, which of course I already knew. Said you two didn’t make it, which is pretty fucking evident, and she said she was happy for you. Then she walked away.” I lean forward on one hand and give him a kiss. “Nothing to worry about. I’m okay. She’s okay. We’re okay. It’s all good.”
He lets out a breath I imagine he’s been holding since he realized Molly was up at the drink table with me. I smile at him and turn myself around to sit back against him as I was before I left. The night wears on, the guys telling stories, the women sharing gossip, and all of the above drinking too much. Owen holds me in a death grip the entire night. It’s a hell of a lot of fun.
Owen and I have a very healthy buzz going on. I find myself giggling a lot and him teasing me mercilessly. At one point, a few of the women get up to play a very embarrassing game of volleyball, myself included. The men hoot and holler as most of us are still bikini clad. It’s kind of hot. When we’re done making fools of ourselves, I start to stumble over toward Owen, who is now standing, waiting for me. The look on his face is...whoa. I stop in my tracks, mesmerized by it. It sucks the air out of my lungs and sets every nerve ending in my body on fire.
He crooks a finger at me, beckoning me closer. I find my legs and start walking toward him. I stop about half a foot from him, our eyes never losing contact.
“I want to take you to the tent now,” he murmurs so only I can hear.
I’m mesmerized and nod in agreement. Owen holds out his hand. As I reach to take it, he grabs my wrist and pull me into him. A small gasp escapes my lips at the same time he palms the back of my neck. Our mouths meet in a long, wet kiss.
He whispers in my ear, “I have been holding back all night. I need you so badly.” His tongue finds the spot under my ear that drives me crazy. Oh God.
He leads me to the tent, and I climb in, Owen at my heels. As soon as we are both inside, he pulls my shoulder and flips me onto my back. Before I know what has happened, he is holding my foot in his hand and kissing the inside of my ankle. His eyes never leave mine.
“You. Are. So. Beautiful,” he whispers between kisses that are slowly moving up my calf. “I. Am. The. Luckiest. Man. Alive.” My heart soars at his words. “Please. Let. Me. Love. You. Right. Now.”
I nod yes, and his mouth is now where me bikini starts. His lips hovers over my most sensitive parts, and he plants a chaste kiss. I don’t think I’d have had as big a response if his lips were meeting bare flesh. What he’s doing is so erotic and loving that it causes every pleasure center in my body to explode.
“I love you,” I whisper as he pulls my bikini bottoms down.
He nods and lowers his head. Everything after that is just bliss.
NEARLY A MONTH AND a half after Olivia moved in, we are finally settling into our new normal routine. The oddly sized boxes that lined the living room wall have long been unpacked, flattened, and recycled; my bookshelves have never been so full. They’re not full of books, mind you, but instead, full of…stuff. I don’t remember most of these things at Olivia’s apartment in Chelsea, but she swears they were there.
One of the many upsides of having her for a roommate, besides the obvious reasons, is that I always have clean towels, which is pretty awesome. I still don’t know how she gets them to smell so damn good. They smell like her…and I like it. My old apartment has been girlified. Guess it’s a small price to pay for getting the girl.
Of no fault of our own, the last two weeks we have been absolutely swamped with work. One of the men in my company was out with the flu and ended up in the hospital for dehydration. Add to that, we had some guys out on vacation, so we were already running at an absolute minimum. I’ve been pulling double shifts every other night and the whacky schedule has me beat. As for Olivia, her research deadline on her most recent grant project got bumped up. My girl has been putting in long hours at her office and overtaken my office at the apartment as hers. She works into the early morning, crunching numbers and getting her research ready to present next week.
When I am home, I go to bed alone. I try to get her to come to bed with me, even if it’s just to snuggle and talk, although sex would be nice. With regret and, dare I say, longing, she turns me down in order to meet her deadline. I understand and am supportive and proud of what she’s doing, but I’m greedy and want my girlfriend back.
I usually come home just as Olivia is starting her day. After a quick kiss and nuzzle, we take turns with the shower. I lie on the bed while Olivia gets ready for her day and we take the opportunity to catch up on each other’s day, talk about the day ahead, and discuss anything that needs addressing. We feed each other bagels and coffee before Olivia runs out the door, and once the door is locked, I’m lights out for a few hours before tackling the rest of the day and my next shift.
Our nights have not been much of an improvement on our days. Monday, we tried to plan dinner together, but Olivia got home late. I ended up reverting to my bachelor days and had cereal for dinner. I was passed out in bed by the time Olivia finally came home.
Tuesday, we made it home around the same time. Olivia tried to piece a meal together from what little we had in the fridge. By the time she was ready to give up and order in, she found me asleep on the couch.
Wednesday night was more of the same, except that this time we both passed out on the couch. And last night, in a desperate effort to reconnect, we ended up naked in bed but couldn’t find the energy to do much more than touch each other and kiss—although making out with Olivia is pretty awesome.
We have kept in touch during the day with text messages and sexting, trying to keep ourselves connected. I know this crazy schedule is only for a short time, and in another week, our lives will return to normal, but I miss my girl.
Owen: I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you desperately. Tell me something sexy.
Olivia: I miss you too. So much, that I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me. I’m soaking wet.
Owen: Fuck. You can’t begin to know how bad I want to taste you right now.
Olivia: Are you hard for me?
Owen: Like granite. Come here and help me out?
Olivia: I wish I could...go stroke that glorious cock in the bathroom thinking about my lips around it.
Owen: I almost just came in my pants.
Olivia: LOL Better get to the bathroom.
After a quick meal, I settle into the couch to watch my favorite TV show. It feels like forever since I’ve had a night to kick up my feet and relax. I’ve been working nonstop at the firehouse, and tomorrow is my first day off in ten days. Olivia makes her way out of the kitchen and sits next to me on the couch. I instinctively wrap my arm around her as she settles in beside me. I’ve missed just being with her.
This isn’t exactly how I saw things going when I asked Olivia to move in with me. I thought we’d be fucking like porn stars every waking moment. It’s not that we don’t want to be fucking like our lives depend on it—believe me—we do. But our schedules just haven’t been jiving. Thing is, now that I have a moment to breathe, I just want to relax, have three fingers of scotch, and let my mind wander into nothingness.
While I flip the TV on to ESPN, Olivia curls her legs under her and snuggles into my side. Casually, she lifts up the edge o
f my faded DBag’s concert T-shirt and begins to draw lazy circles on my belly. I pull her tighter and to my side and give her a chaste kiss on her temple while Olivia rests her head on my chest and inhales deeply, breathing me in. This feels good. It feels right. Everything is as it should be—us together, absorbing each other and having a moment to relax.
Although I barely have enough energy to lift a glass of scotch to my mouth, I pull Olivia onto my lap and envelope her with my strong arms. I nuzzle my nose along the curve of her ear before lightly nipping at her earlobe. She mewls and places a hand on the back of my neck, her thumb and fingers massaging my skin.
“I’ve missed kissing you,” I murmur, dotting faint kisses along her jaw. “I’ve missed holding you like this. I’ve missed hearing you gasp when I touch you.” I delicately grasp Olivia’s breast and brush my thumb across a taut nipple. She inhales sharply at my touch and I can’t restrain my smile as I continue kissing down her neck. She loves it when I talk to her when we make love and she’s beginning to fall under my spell. We need this time to reconnect—sleep, relaxing and all else be damned.
“And I’ve missed your taste on my tongue and the way your eyes flutter when I bring you to the brink,” I continue. I lay Olivia back on the couch and hover above her, lowering myself to brush my lips across hers. We’re close enough to be connected, but far apart enough to tease.
“I’ve missed you too. Make me do all that, baby. Make me gasp and moan. Touch me. Taste me. Make love to me.”
I cover her open mouth with mine and slowly dip my tongue inside. Olivia captures it and gives it a few quick sucks before swirling her sweet tongue with mine. A deep groan rumbles at the back of my throat as I press my lips harder and more urgently to hers. My hand fumbles with the hem of her shirt as I push it up and cup the underside of her breast. This time, it’s Olivia who moans and shifts underneath me as I press my growing erection against her heat.
