January On Fire: A Firefighter Fake Marriage Romance

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January On Fire: A Firefighter Fake Marriage Romance Page 12

by Chase Jackson


  “Holy shit!” Aubrey said, her eyes widening as she stared down at her phone screen. “How could you not feel a spark?! Look at this guy!”

  “That is a fine ass man,” Nyah clucked, shaking her head in admiration.

  She held up her phone, and when I glanced down a sudden quiver of excitement pulsed through my body. I recognized the photograph on Aubrey’s phone screen right away; it was a shot that had appeared in a charity calendar a few years ago. Brady was the month of January, posing nonchalantly with a fire hose over his groin.

  “Hello, January!” Nyah purred. “That’s one hell of a way to kick off the new year.”

  “So, um… how’s his firehose?” Vanessa asked, nudging my shoulder and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

  My eyes widened and my cheeks felt like they had been lit on fire. I took another sip of champagne to cool the heat that was working through my torso.

  “I bet he’s got a great firehose,” Aubrey giggled. “I can always tell… I’ve got a six sense about that sort of thing.”

  “You’ve got a sixth sense for approximating dick size?” Nyah asked skeptically.

  “I know it sounds crazy,” Aubrey admitted. “But I’ve never been wrong!”

  Nyah turned to me, still looking skeptical. “Any comment?”

  I just shrugged: “I guess a picture is worth a thousand words.”

  All sets of eyes flicked back down to the phone, and Aubrey pinched her fingers on the screen to zoom in on the length of hose that Brady was wrangling by his hip.

  The hose looked massive… and I knew from experience that Brady’s member was just as big.

  Vanessa gulped, then looked back up at me: “So how does he handle his hose?”

  “Do you need to ask?” Nyah snorted, nodding down at the photo. “Cass just said a picture is worth a thousand words, and that picture is showing me a man who knows how to handle his hose.”

  Vanessa glanced at me and I just shrugged, blushing furiously:

  “He is a professional…”

  Vanessa reached for one of the wedding magazines that was arranged on the coffee table in front of us, and she started fanning herself dramatically.

  “Does he have any hot, single firefighter friends, by any chance?” she asked.

  “He has a whole crew of them,” I smiled. “And they’ll all be at the wedding.”

  “I need some more champagne,” Vanessa muttered, sinking lower into the sofa.

  “Look at this one,” Aubrey tapped open another photo from the internet search results on her phone -- this time, it was a shot of Brady in his fireman uniform. I recognized it as the photo that had been on the front page of the newspaper.

  “Could he be any more perfect?!” Aubrey asked, melting onto my shoulder and sighing.

  “I ask myself the same thing sometimes,” I admitted, blinking down at the photo.

  “So… I think the real question here is: why didn’t you date this guy sooner?!” Nyah asked.

  “We never really thought of each other that way.”

  “Girl,” Nyah rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

  “Ok,” I admitted. “Well I assumed that he never thought of me that way…”

  “Obviously he did,” Vanessa nudged me. “Who made the first move?”

  I blinked and bit down on my lip. My mind raced back to that night in my backyard… then dinner at that restaurant on the river… the way his hand had found my leg under the table, the first kiss we had shared… the way we’d undressed each other in his bed for the first time…

  “It just sort of… happened,” I said thoughtfully, and even as I spoke the words, I realized that I was still processing the answer for myself. “Once we were together, I felt so drawn to him. I’ve never felt anything like that. Everything just felt so… right. Like being in his arms was where I was supposed to be, all along…”

  My voice faded and I blinked a few times as the words sank in. I hadn’t realized that I had felt that way until I said it out loud, but now that it was out there… well, there was no denying how I felt anymore.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN | BRADY

  I flicked off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, then I reached for a white towel and wrapped it around my waist. The muscles in my arms were still throbbing from my morning session in the Firehouse 56 weight room, but the steam from the shower seemed to have helped ease some of the strain. I tested my arm by doing a few curls with an empty fist, and I winced through the pain.

  I’d be hurting a hell of a lot more, if it hadn’t been for Josh… I reminded myself.

  It had been stupid of me to try bench-pressing such a high weight without warming up first. I had let my anger get the better of me… I had let myself get distracted. That one moment of stupidity could have gotten me in a lot of trouble, but Josh had been there.

  I used the edge of my towel to clear away some of the steam that had collected on the bathroom mirror, then I flicked the damp towel into the hamper and stared up at my reflection.

  A pair of bright grey eyes blinked back at me; a pair of bright grey eyes that looked almost identical to my brother’s.

  I sighed. I was tired of fighting with Josh. I wanted to be on good terms again… I wanted things to go back to normal. And most of all, I wanted him to understand.

  This arrangement between Cass and I might have started out as a convenient lie, but it was turning into something real. I wanted Cass and I to give it a chance… and I wanted my brother to give us a chance, too.

  Speaking of Cass…

  We had plans to spend the night together, and I was eager to get over to her place. I finished getting ready, then I climbed down the stairs and stepped out onto my front porch.

  I was locking my front door when I heard a voice call my name from across the front lawn:

  “Brady!”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw a couple waving at me from the Laurent’s driveway. I hopped down the porch steps and jogged across the grassy patch of lawn to join them.

  Even up close, it took me several seconds to recognize the couple as Mr. and Mrs. Laurent; they looked completely unrecognizable.

  Mrs. Laurent was wearing a pink sequined dress. I recognized that dress right away; it was the same dress she had worn to my high school graduation. The sequins shimmered when they caught the light, and made Mrs. Laurent stand out in the crowded auditorium. My eyes had immediately landed on her when I was crossing the stage to accept my diploma, and she had stood up to cheer me on… the same way my own mother would have, if she could have been there.

  My heart swelled in my chest as I remembered that day. It was just one example of the countless kind things that Mrs. Laurent had done for me over the years.

  Now, the dress looked like it was about two sizes too big for Mrs. Laurent’s frame. Five years of battling cancer had left her incredibly frail and shrunken. Even though she had finally started putting weight back on, the dress still hung off of her sharp shoulders… but the sequins sparkled every bit as bright as I remembered.

  “You look stunning, Mrs. Laurent,” I said. Then I added: “And you clean up pretty well, too, Mr. Laurent!”

  Mr. Laurent adjusted the lapels of his freshly-steamed suit and chuckled.

  “We can’t thank you enough for making this night possible,” he said warmly, shaking my hand. “This is the first time we’ve gone out on a date in years.”

  I knew that Mrs. Laurent had always loved The Sound of Music, and when I learned that the stage production was coming to a local Hartford theater, I had bought a pair of tickets for the Laurents. I had splurged on the best seats in the house; it had cost me a pretty penny, but the smile on Mrs. Laurent’s face was more than worth it.

  “It was nothing,” I assured them. “I’m just glad you two have an excuse to get all dressed up and enjoy a night on the town!”

  “On that note…” Mr. Laurent said, glancing down at his watch. “We better ge
t going… we have dinner reservations!”

  I helped Mrs. Laurent into the passenger seat of the car, then I waved them off as they reversed down the driveway and drove off down the street. Then I turned to the house and climbed up the front steps.

  The front door was unlocked, so I let myself in.

  “Hey Cass, I’m here,” I called, closing the door behind me.

  I heard the soft hum of music playing in the distance, and I followed it up the stairs towards Cassidy’s bedroom.

  “Cass?”

  I rounded the top of the stairs, then made my way down the hallway. Cassidy’s bedroom door was ajar, and I could hear the music spilling through the crack.

  It was that Enrique Iglesias song… ‘Hero.’

  I gently tapped my knuckles on the door a few times. “Cass?” I called, my voice drowned by the music. “Can I come in?”

  I knocked again, then nudged the door open.

  Time froze to a stop for those few seconds.

  Cassidy was wearing a white dress. She was standing in the center of the room with her back to me, and she was facing a full-length mirror that was fastened to her bedroom wall. I could see all of her at once: the soft lines of her bare back and the ornate beading of her white dress and, in the mirror’s reflection, I could see the serene expression on her face and the way the dress sloped over her curves.

  Enrique Iglesias’ voice sang “you can take my breath away…” through the stereo speakers, and I realized that I hadn’t taken a breath since I stepped into the bedroom. Cassidy had taken my breath away…

  She was so beautiful and delicate and perfect… I could have stared at her forever.

  But then time stopped being frozen, and her eyes flicked up and met mine in the mirror. She gasped and spun around.

  “Cassidy…” I murmured, stepping across the bedroom floor. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.”

  I cupped her chin in my hand, then I slipped my palm down the curve of her neck. She took a deep, fluttery breath, then she blinked up at me.

  “You’re not supposed to see me in my dress before our wedding day,” she said softly.

  “Well that’s a stupid rule, isn’t it?”

  “It’s bad luck,” she insisted.

  “I see,” I sighed thoughtfully. “Then I guess you better hurry up and take it off.”

  Her eyes flickered eagerly and a small smile formed on her lips.

  “Close your eyes,” she commanded. I reluctantly complied, pinching my eyes shut. I heard the soft shuffle of silk as she shifted, turning slowly so that her back was towards me again.

  “I need you to help me unlace the back of the dress,” she said softly, her voice coming out like a purr. “But you have to promise not to peek.”

  “No peeking,” I smiled, already doubting my ability to keep my promise.

  “Ok,” she said. I felt her small hands wrap around mine, and then she guided them up towards the back of the dress. My fingertips landed on the edge of the beaded silk, and I could feel the stiff fabric and the soft velvet of her bare skin.

  “First, the clasp,” she instructed as she released my hands, allowing me to wander blindly over her back. I stifled a husky breath as my blood started to swirl through my veins. I kept my eyes closed and my fingers traced the back of the dress until I felt the cold metal of a tiny clasp.

  “That’s it,” Cassidy whispered.

  I pressed the clasp and it popped open easily under the weight of my fingers. The fabric loosened, and my fingers landed on Cassidy’s bare skin. She shuddered and sucked in a soft breath.

  “Now the buttons,” she said. “There are thirteen.”

  Thirteen! My dick pulsed impatiently.

  I lowered my hands and found the first button; a knotted little bead pushed through a tight loop of lace. I pried the button open and it fell open. Then I moved down to the next one… and the next…

  Each button brought me further down her spine, and closer to the small of her back… and every time I felt the bodice of the dress loosen, it got harder and harder to keep my eyes shut…

  “No peeking,” Cass reminded me when she felt my fingers reach the final button. I popped it open, and the dress spilled down softly around her hips. I heard the silk and lace puddle as it landed on the floor around her feet, but I kept my word… and my eyes stayed sealed shut.

  Without my sight, every other sense was heightened: my sense of smell detected the delicate aroma of rose perfume. The Enrique Iglesias song had ended, and in the sharp silence my ears pricked at the sound of her bare feet padding gently on the floorboards as she stepped out of the dress. My mouth watered as I imagined her bare body, just within grasp…

  I waited patiently as she hung the dress and zipped it back into a garment bag.

  “Can I open my eyes now?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” she said. “There’s something else…”

  “What is it?” my heart pounded heavily in my chest, and my engorged cock seized through my pants.

  “I need you to help me with the lingerie, too…”

  “There’s lingerie?” I imagined her standing in front of me, wearing something I hadn’t seen yet… and my skin started to tingle.

  “I wanted something special,” she said softly. “For our first night as husband and wife…”

  My lips slipped into a smile.

  “No peeking,” she reminded me firmly. Then her hands wrapped around mine again, and she guided them forward. My heart was pounding and I felt completely disoriented as my hands slowly moved forward at her mercy.

  As soon as my fingertips made contact, I knew what I was feeling. I felt thin, soft lace wrapped around the unmistakably soft flesh of her breasts. My fingers sank down and I located the firm skin of her hardened nipples through the lace. I pressed gently through the lace with my fingertips, and she made the softest little moan...

  Then I quickly pinched her bud through the lace, and she gasped as a sharp inhale rushed through her lips. She leaned forwards, filling my hands with more of her soft mounds. I gripped tighter, squeezing through the lace.

  Then, with my eyes closed, I leaned forward and replaced my hands with my mouth. The lace softened and melted immediately under my wet tongue. The soggy fabric stuck to her skin and I took her breast in my mouth, sucking hungrily. She moaned loudly and her hands gripped around my neck to steady herself.

  I didn’t need her hands to guide me this time; instinct was enough to help my fingers find the series of clasps of the lace bustier behind her back. I undid them quickly, snapping them open one by one until the wire-framed garment fell open and my mouth tasted bare flesh. I slipped my tongue over her breast and traced her nipple.

  My hand roamed down her bare stomach and found the lace waist of her panties. This time, instinct told me to tear them off like an animal… but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise she had planned for me.

  Instead, my mouth followed the path that my hands had made and I kissed a trail down towards her waist. When my mouth reached the top of her lace panties, I pressed her legs apart and continued to kiss my way down. I could feel the heat of her eager mound through the lace, and I could taste her juices soaking through the thin gauzy fabric.

  “Is it bad luck to ruin these panties before the wedding night?” I murmured, tracing her slit through the lace and pressing my tongue through the fabric. She answered with a moan. I stripped the panties off, rolling them down her smooth thighs and letting them fall to the ground.

  I stood up slowly.

  “Are there any more surprises?” I asked, “Or can I open my eyes now?”

  “Not yet,” I could hear the smile in her voice. “There’s one more thing…”

  I felt her hands reach for me again, but this time she was gripping onto the waist of my pants. She jerked down the zipper and peeled off my shorts, and then her hand wrap around my bare shaft.

  “Cass…” I grunted. Her hot breath teased my cock, then she pressed her lips gently onto my head and ki
ssed me. Her lips were gentle, but her hand squeezed tighter…

  And then she released me and took my hand, guiding me blindly through the room. She sank down onto the bed and pulled me to the edge.

  “You can open your eyes,” she said.

  I flicked my eyes open, and the sudden brightness of the bedroom stung. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the light… then adjusting to her.

  Her naked body was stretched beneath me on the bed. Her dark curls cascaded around her, and her swollen nipples were still rosy from my mouth.

  I felt three little words form on the tip of my tongue; three words that might as well have belonged to a foreign language, because that’s how strange and different and complex they felt in my mouth.

  I had never wanted to say those three words to anyone… but in that moment, those words felt like the only explanation for what I felt when I looked down at Cassidy.

  I. Love. You.

  I let my mouth fall open and I took in a sharp breath, but then I chickened out. I swallowed the words, and then I leaned forward and pressed my lips into Cassidy’s.

  I couldn’t tell her that I loved her. So, I made love to her instead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY | CASSIDY

  “Honey, can you check on the corn?” Mom asked for what must have been the hundredth time.

  “I just checked on it,” I assured her. Then I caught a glimpse of the panicked expression on her face, and I decided to humor her. I hovered over the stovetop and lifted the lid on the tall steel stock pot, then I peered down at the long golden cobs of corn that were bobbing in the boiling water.

  “The corn needs a few more minutes,” I reported over my shoulder; the same diagnosis I had offered approximately two minutes earlier, the last time Mom had asked.

  I couldn’t blame my mom for feeling a bit flustered. Tonight, was the first time that she had prepared a meal in nearly a year, and it had been even longer since we had guests over for dinner.

 

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