The Firefighter's Girl

by Natasha Knight

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know… I just… I’m scared, Sawyer.”

  His heart broke for her and he wanted to promise her she would be ok, that he would take care of everything, and it was true. But the problem they faced was at least partially outside of his power.

  “I’ll take care of you, Rebecca,” he said. “I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  They stayed like that for a long time and when Rebecca fell asleep, he tucked her into the bed on her belly and closed the curtains. But when he went to leave the room, she stirred.

  “Sawyer,” she said.

  He turned to her.

  “Don’t leave me alone.”

  He looked at her then, her tiny form under the blanket, her big eyes looking at him. He went to her and climbed into the bed to cradle her in his arms. He just held her like that until she slept.

  Chapter Seven

  It was early afternoon when Rebecca woke up alone in her room. The first thing she did was touch her still sore bottom. With a groan, she rolled over onto her side and noticed the note lying on the nightstand. She recognized Sawyer’s handwriting and picked it up.

  Rebecca,

  I’m at the fire house. The number is programmed in the house phone if you need to get hold of me. I have some errands to run after work, but will be home in time for dinner. In the meantime, I ordered some clothes for you, which should be here before the end of the day. You’ll need to accept the package when the delivery man comes. I hope I got the sizes right.

  If you’re bored, you can always prepare dinner, just try not to set the house on fire.

  We have an appointment with John tomorrow evening. Try to think of anything else that might be helpful to you, any details that may have slipped your mind in the past days.

  Call me if you need anything and otherwise, I’ll see you around seven tonight. One thing, you’re not to leave the house without me. We can go for a walk this evening after dinner so you can get some fresh air.

  Sawyer

  She put the note back down and got up, pushing the curtains open and looking out into the beautiful blue sky. It was reassuring in a way. That vast sky held promise.

  The chair she had bent over for her spanking remained standing where he had left it. She went to it and touched the tall back, glancing at the corner where she had spent an hour earlier that morning. She then turned and went into the bathroom. The first thing she did there was look at her bottom in the large mirror over the counter and flinched at the sight of the red stripes. The pain was nothing like when he was administering her punishment, but her bottom throbbed still and was more tender in some spots. She’d likely be feeling this for a few days.

  Rebecca switched on the shower and climbed into the tub. She washed her hair and took her time, her mind somehow not obsessing over what was going on, over the possibility of a grim future ahead of her. She felt calm, calmer than she expected to feel. Part of that was because of Sawyer. What he had done for her, taking her in rather than allowing her to wait out the next months in jail, hiring an attorney, a real one, and even taking control of the situation like he had yesterday, it just felt safe. She didn’t worry that it was wrong to feel this way or that even his punishing her was wrong. She just felt safe and cared for.

  The water began to cool and she switched it off, wondering how long she’d been standing there. She dried off and, although she hated to do it, she had to put the awful grey sweat suit back on before going downstairs. She’d be glad when that package came and she could wear normal clothes again. She made a mental note to keep track of how much this was costing Sawyer so she could pay him back when she was able.

  She was hungry and went into the kitchen to find something to eat. His refrigerator was well stocked, considering he was a bachelor, and she fried some eggs and made toast and ate while she went through the cupboards to figure out what to make for dinner. It would have to be pasta and a jar of sauce—especially if he didn’t want her setting the house on fire. He had everything she needed to bake some brownies, but first, she wanted to get some notes down for their meeting with the lawyer.

  It was a little after five p.m. when the doorbell rang and Rebecca saw the UPS truck outside. She ran to the door, smiling wide as she signed to accept the two large boxes. Once he was gone, she opened the first box, desperate to get out of the sweatshirt and pants they had given her to wear at the jail. Inside, she took out the first things she found, which were a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, tight-fitting t-shirt, panties and bra that were exactly her size, along with some socks. She threw the sweat suit out and unpacked the boxes, hanging up the two suits, putting away the shoes and the other things he had bought.

  It felt nice to unpack her new things and when she was done, she stood back and looked at the closet, a satisfied smile on her face. No one had done anything like this for her, no one had thought of her, of taking care of her, in… well… in as long as she could remember.

  Her smile widened as she went downstairs to work on the brownies.

  Before she knew it, it was almost seven and she perked up when she heard a car door close outside. She washed her hands and was slipping her apron over her head when the doorbell rang.

  That was odd, why would Sawyer be ringing his own doorbell? She hesitated for a moment, but went to answer the door on the third ring and was sorry the instant she did because there, standing on the front step, was a reporter and a photographer behind him who snapped a picture before Rebecca could push the door closed. The reporter stuck the toe of his shoe in the door and she was unable to close it.

  “Ms. Banks, I’m Jason Glaston with Channel 7 News with just a few questions for you…”

  “I’m sorry…”

  He pushed the door farther open when she tried to close it again, ignoring her altogether.

  “Ms. Banks, you’re responsible for one man’s death and countless others who lost their homes,” he said. “Can you comment on that? I know the public would like to have some answers.”

  “I…”

  “What’s going on here?” Sawyer asked, coming up the front walk of the house.

  Rebecca exhaled a breath of relief when the photographer lowered his camera and the reporter turned to Sawyer. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t get a chance to when Sawyer stepped too close to him. “I don’t believe you were invited in and what the hell happened to innocent until proven guilty? Get off my property.”

  “Chief Hayes,” he began. “I’m sorry for any confusion, we were just trying…”

  “I said get off my property and if you snap one more photo, you’re going to have a problem with me, am I clear?”

  With that, Rebecca watched as the men fumbled through apologies that were half finished before Sawyer slammed the door shut and turned to her.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  Rebecca realized when Sawyer took her shoulders and squeezed how badly she was shaking.

  “You came just in time,” she said.

  He walked her to the couch, sat her down, and brought her a glass of water. “Drink,” he said. He stood watching her as she took a sip then gulped the glass down and handed it back to him.

  Tears filled her eyes as she processed what the reporter had said. “They think I did it.”

  He sat down next to her and took her hand. “He’s a reporter, Rebecca. He wants a story,” he said, turning her to face him.

  She nodded. “I know that. I do. I just…”

  “Look at me,” he said, taking her face into his hands and holding her. With one thumb, he wiped away a fallen tear. “I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. I know you’re innocent and we’ll prove it to the world.”

  She dropped her gaze, remembering that small untruth she had told Sawyer and the lawyer earlier. But if she told them that, would they no longer believe her about everything else?

  “Look at me, Rebecca,” he said.

  She did, the image of him
blurry through unshed tears.

  “It smells good in here,” he said, smiling. He brought her face closer and sniffed her hair. “You smell like brownies.” His smile grew wider, his eyes gently encouraging a smile from her.

  “I was baking,” she said.

  “And you’ve got a little chocolate on your nose.”

  She reached her hand up to wipe it away, but he was faster, his mouth coming to kiss the very tip of her nose.

  “Mmm,” he said.

  She smiled.

  “And here,” he said, turning her face, still holding it in the palms of his hands. He brought his mouth first to her cheek and kissed. It was a soft, sensual kiss. “And here,” he continued, this time, his lips covered hers and she reached her hands to his wrists, holding onto him, opening her mouth to his, losing herself in the scent of him, in the taste of him, of his mouth on hers, his lips, his tongue, all of him.

  One of his hands moved to the back of her head and his fingers intertwined in her hair as he pushed her backwards on the couch. He didn’t break their kiss as his other hand wrapped around her waist. Hers came to his chest. The weight of him was at first heavy on her, but she welcomed it after a moment, not realizing how long it had been since she had felt like this, since she had been so close, so intimate, with someone like this.

  “Rebecca,” he managed, his mouth at her ear as he pulled her shirt over her head and stripped off her bra, baring her from the waist up. He didn’t pause to look at her and there was no ceremony in the stripping off of her pants and her hands worked frantically to unbutton his shirt just far enough that he could pull it off overhead. She sat up and took in the sight of him, his solid chest and wide shoulders, his tight, muscular stomach. She pressed her hands flat against him, then wrapped each one around a muscled shoulder, then bicep, bringing herself into his chest, trying to disappear in him, disappear in the strength and safety of him.

  Sawyer held her, kissed her neck, biting a little, sending mixed sensations through her, all of which ended as pure heat between her legs and as his mouth wandered down to claim a pebbled nipple, one hand traveled the flat of her belly until he cupped her sex and she moaned at the contact of it, of his hot palm on the whole of her.

  “Rebecca,” he said again while she fumbled with his belt. He pushed her onto her back on the sofa, his eyes devouring her as he stood and pulled off his pants. Her breathing came heavier when she took in the length of his cock and she opened her legs when he brought one knee down between them, lifting her hips and repositioning her so he was inches from her and the head of his cock just touched the wet of her pussy.

  “Sawyer,” she managed, lifting her hips to him.

  One hand again snaked through her hair and he watched her face when he pressed into her, claiming her in one hard thrust. Her mouth opened and she sucked in a ragged breath, gasping at the intrusion, relishing it.

  Sawyer moved inside her, kissing her and watching her alternately. His pupils dilated and she reached her hands from his shoulders to cup his face, wanting to hold him, to watch him as his movements came faster and shorter, her clit rubbing against him on every thrust until he reached once more to kiss her, his eyes remaining open on hers, a sound coming from him when he came, his cock throbbing while her pussy clenched around him, milking him until he stilled and lay the side of his face on her chest, his breath ragged now, sweat hot between their spent bodies.

  * * *

  Sawyer listened to her heartbeat calm, his hand running the length of one naked hip. She turned onto her side and her hand came to his face. Neither of them spoke when she pushed the sweat-slicked hair off his face. He watched her watching him, her eyes even softer than usual, an after-effect of orgasm, he imagined. A chill ran through him at that moment while her little hands traced the contours of his face, his jaw, his shoulder. She was so small, so vulnerable and all he could think was that he loved her. He loved Rebecca Banks. He had fallen in love with her ten years ago when they had gone through the death of his aunt together. He had lost her for too long, but in all those years, even if he had managed to bury his feelings for her, they were still there and they had never changed. He loved Rebecca Banks and he would do anything to keep her.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, resting her hands on his face.

  He studied her, contemplated telling her just what she wanted to know.

  Just then, his cell phone rang from inside the pocket of his pants, breaking the spell between them. When he straightened, Rebecca slipped off the couch and onto the floor, handing him his pants. He found his phone and looked at the display.

  “What is it?” she asked, obviously noticing the change in his expression.

  “It’s John.”

  Her forehead creased with worry when Sawyer answered. It was a brief conversation, and he watched her anxious face as he took in the information that was being passed on to him.

  “I see,” he said. “All right, yes. Tomorrow then.”

  When he ended the call, she knelt up between his legs with her hands on his thighs. “What is it?” she asked. “You look worried.”

  “There’s a development.”

  “What?”

  “Shannon,” he said, shaking his head. “Her parents bailed her out. Do you know who they are? Do you know her last name?” he asked.

  “Ellison,” she said. He could see the goose bumps that covered her flesh.

  “She’s the Arizona governor’s daughter.”

  Chapter Eight

  Neither of them had eaten much that day and most of the brownies sat on the counter untouched.

  “We need to leave in about an hour to get to John’s house in time,” Sawyer said after checking his watch. They were going to have dinner together with John and his wife.

  Rebecca nodded. “I’m anxious.”

  “We’ll get it straightened out, Rebecca. Don’t worry.”

  “What if we don’t?” she asked.

  Sawyer watched her. She’d been growing more and more nervous all day. “Rebecca, it’s important that you stay calm during our meeting today,” he said. “We need to focus on the case and figure out what the DA is planning. With Shannon being who she is, we’ve got an even bigger hill to climb.”

  She nodded, but her gaze danced around and she picked at her fingernails.

  “Rebecca,” he said. “Look at me.”

  She did, but barely.

  “Do you remember what happened the last time you weren’t able to contain your emotions?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I got spanked.”

  He had her attention from the looks of her. “Go into the dining room, close the curtains, take down your pants and panties and wait for me. I’ll be right down,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to help you keep your calm.”

  “I don’t need to be spanked,” she protested.

  “I’m not going to spank you. Go close the curtains and wait for me.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply before heading up the stairs to retrieve what he needed. He returned a few moments later to find her waiting nervously for him in the dining room still fully dressed. He set the things he’d brought down on the table and watched her expression, her eyes growing wider, her mouth opening, her throat working as she swallowed.

  “What is that for?” she asked.

  “It’s to make sure you remember.” He picked up the butt plug and took it out of its package. “I told you to take your pants and panties down. Do it now and bend over the table.”

  She took a step backward. “Um… Sawyer, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “I don’t want to take a chance.”

  “How is a butt plug going to help me to keep my calm?”

  “It will remind you of what will happen if you cannot. Rebecca, we don’t have much time. I need you to stay focused.” He moved toward her and took her in his arms. She turned her face up to his and he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally her mouth. One hand trav
eled down her back and slipped inside her jeans, cupping one bottom cheek. “Remember, I’m responsible for you now. I get to decide what is best for you. Do you remember agreeing to that?”

  She looked up at him and nodded, her eyes wide.

  “Good girl. It won’t be all bad, I promise. And if you’re good, I’ll reward you,” he said, releasing her.

  “Do you have to?”

  He nodded. “Go on,” he said. “Take them down, turn around, and bend over.”

  She watched him while she unbuttoned her jeans as he twisted the lid off the lubricant. He squeezed some onto his fingers and rubbed them together, then turned to watch her reluctantly take first her jeans, then her panties down to her knees.

  “Turn around and bend over all the way, Rebecca,” he said.

  She lay her torso down on the dining room table and he moved behind her. With one hand, he gripped her bottom, caressing it, the last of the marks of the belt having all but faded now. When he pulled one cheek open, she clenched, groaning, and began to straighten.

  “Stay down,” he said.

  She searched his face, her feelings wavering between worry and sheer embarrassment. “Bend over the table now unless you’d like me to spank you first.”

  She shook her head and bent back over.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Good girl. Now pick up the lubricant and spread it over the plug, Rebecca.”

  He watched her do as he said, his cock hard at the sight of her bent as she was, exposed, her bottom bared to him.

  “That’s enough,” he swallowed, his voice betraying his arousal. “Give it to me, Rebecca,” he said.

  She handed it back without looking at him.

  “Now reach back and spread your bottom cheeks open for me.”