His Firecracker: Sassy Girls Series

by Reynolds, Rory

  My cock is so hard it’s painful, I’m practically humping the mattress to get relief from the ache. The only relief is Joselynn.

  “Drake, if you don’t get that big cock of yours inside me right now, I’m going to—”

  I cut off her little tirade with a fierce kiss. She kisses me back wildly. Her legs wrap around my waist, and her hands tangle in my hair. I reach between us, gripping my length, I run it over her pussy, circling her clit once before notching myself at her entrance.

  “You want this cock, firecracker?”

  “Yes! God, yes. Fuck me, Drake.”

  I couldn’t have asked for a better invitation. With one long thrust, I bury my cock to the hilt. “Fuck, your pussy is tight. Wet. Fucking. Perfection.” I punctuate each word with another thrust. “You like me fucking your little pussy with my fat cock?”

  “Yes,” she gasps as I fill her again. “Harder.”

  “Don’t want to hurt you,” I growl through gritted teeth.

  Her head shakes wildly. “You won’t hurt me. Need it. Need you. Oh, God, so close…”

  Her pussy ripples around my cock as her orgasm builds, driving me absolutely mad. I unleash on her in a way I never thought I would. Fucking her hard and fast until the room is filled with the sounds of my flesh slapping against hers.

  Joselynn’s pussy clamps down hard on me, her back arches as her orgasm rips through her. Her screams echoing through the room is music to my ears. I bury myself fully inside her pussy, grinding against her, drawing out her orgasm until she’s shaking beneath me. Her pussy squeezes me tight, and I can’t hold back anymore, my cock jerks inside her, filling her with rope after sticky rope of my release.

  I collapse, mindful enough to catch myself on my elbows, so I don’t crush her. She’s still shivering from pleasure when she wraps her arms and legs around my body tightly. Holding me to her as if she’s afraid I will leave.

  Not a chance in hell, firecracker. I’m right where I want to be.

  Once I catch my breath, I roll off of her, taking her with me, so she’s sprawled on my chest, her head resting over my pounding heart. She snuggles against me, making sexy little noises as she gets comfortable. Within moments, her breathing becomes a steady rhythm, and I know she’s fallen asleep.

  I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you, firecracker.”

  “Loves you too,” she murmurs sleepily, nuzzling me again. I can’t help but wonder if she will remember I said ‘I love you’ for the first time when she wakes up in the morning. Or that she said it back. If she doesn’t, it’s okay because I plan to tell her every day for the rest of our lives.

  * * *

  The insistent buzzing of Joselynn’s phone on the nightstand wakes me up. I curse myself for retrieving the blasted thing before falling asleep. I would ignore it, but it could be Kieffer. I frown at the screen showing ‘unknown caller.’ It’s three a.m. so I know it’s not a telemarketer, it could still be Kieffer, so I answer.

  My hello is met with silence. I repeat the greeting impatiently.

  “Are you the man that’s fucking my wife?” sneers the voice on the other end of the line.

  Pure hot rage burns through my veins. Fucking Frankie, somehow got my woman’s untraceable number and called to threaten her. I carefully slide out of bed, not wanting to disturb Joselynn, and slowly make my way out of the room. Only when I’m out of hearing range, do I respond.

  “She’s not your wife. She’s not your anything you piece of shit.”

  Frankie laughs, sounding completely unhinged. “That’s where you’re wrong. She’s mine. I own her. Own that tight little pussy. Own her heart, body, and soul. She. Is. Mine,” he snarls.

  It’s my turn to laugh. “No, that’s where you’re wrong. She’s mine.”

  He chuckles darkly. We shall see, are Frankie’s ominous last words before he disconnects the call.

  “Drake?” Joselynn’s sleepy voice echoes down the hallway.

  I power down her phone and toss it on the kitchen counter on my way back to bed and the woman I love. I’ll deal with Frankie tomorrow.

  19

  Joselynn

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, firecracker. I’m serious.”

  I make the most horrendously girly squee sound I’ve ever made before launching myself at Drake. He catches me in his arms, holding me up by my butt. I rain kisses down on his lips, cheeks, nose, lips, lips, chin, lips… well, you get the point. I kiss my sweet, scarred man everywhere because he just told me that we are heading to pick up Hank.

  Drake laughs at my exuberance. “If I knew getting you a dog would cause this reaction, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

  I release my grip on him, I can tell he’s reluctant to put me down, but he does. I grab his hand and practically drag him to the door. Then we are in his truck and on our way to pick up Hank.

  Hank is so happy to see us that he practically knocks me over, begging for scratches. “Guess what, buddy. You’re coming home with us today!”

  I know he doesn’t understand my words, but my happy enthusiasm is unmistakable to the dog. Hank is growling happily and giving me sloppy dog kisses. I glance up at Drake, who is standing a few feet away, watching our interaction with an amused, but fond expression on his face. I can only imagine that I’m looking at him with adoration and appreciation… mixed with happiness, a little lust, and all kinds of love.

  Drake comes over, kneeling down and holding his hand out to Hank, who doesn’t even hesitate to greet him happily. My heart fills to bursting watching my two favorite guys getting along. Drake stands, handing me the collar and leash that we picked up at the pet store, along with about a dozen toys, a bed, food, and fancy dog bowls. Hank is one spoiled boy.

  “I should stop in and tell James that we are taking Hank home, so he doesn’t worry.”

  Drake growls possessively. It’s totally sexy. Like melt-my-panties—if I were wearing panties that is—clean off.

  “I talked to James yesterday. He knows the plan.”

  “Oh,” I nod, “well, I should at least stop in and say hi. Maybe offer for him to come visit Hank.”

  Drake practically snarls at that, closing the distance between us so he can grab me up in his arms and crush his lips to mine. I drop the leash and collar, and it clatters to the ground. I have much better use for my hands. Like clinging to Drake’s shoulders and pulling him so close, I couldn’t be any closer unless I climbed inside him. By the time he pulls away, we are both breathless, and my pussy is so wet I wonder if my pants are getting soaked through.

  “Or not,” I pant against his lips.

  “Definitely not.” Is his rough reply.

  Drake retrieves the collar and kneels down where Hank is sitting at our feet. The dog doesn’t even flinch when Drake fastens the collar around his neck. When we walk to the truck, Hank walks dutifully by our side, proving that at one time he was someone’s pet. A wave of anger washes over me. What would make someone abandon such a sweet, loving animal?

  Hank hops into the truck like he’s done it a million times. He presses his nose to the window, silently asking for it to be opened. Drake lowers the window, and Hank promptly sticks his head out, letting his tongue loll to the side. I swear he’s smiling with excitement.

  “Ready?” Drake asks, pulling my attention away from the dog in the backseat.

  “Yep, let’s go home.” I can hardly believe this is my life. Yesterday I was hiding out in a crappy motel wondering if I was going to have to go on the run again and today, I’m staying with Drake in a house he keeps trying his best to convince me is my ‘home’ not just his. Plus, the cherry on top, Drake is giving Hank a home. Something I’ve wanted for him since the first time I met the dog months ago. It’s almost surreal. If it is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

  * * *

  “Drake, you’re being ridiculous! I have to go to my apartment and get some things.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest, meeting my fr
ustration with strong determination. His whole demeanor says without words that his opinion on the matter hasn’t changed in the last ten minutes.

  “I can’t live on two changes of clothes forever. And I need other things. My shampoo and conditioner. I mean, look at my hair!” I’m not being a total diva, my hair isn’t something that can survive with just any kind of shampoo, it needs special stuff for curly hair, or it turns into a frizzy mess, which is precisely what it looks like right now.

  I wave my hands around my head, trying to prove my point. “Just look at this mess!”

  Drake looks completely unmoved. He’s told me a dozen times I’m beautiful and that he likes my wild hair… it’s not wild, it’s a freaking tumbleweed. When I packed my bugout bag, it was for function, not fashion. It has the bare minimum necessities only. Someone on the run has to pack light.

  “We will go to your apartment tomorrow. You will stay here, while I go take care of a couple of things at the office.”

  “But—” I try once again to argue. Drake really is being ridiculous. My guards are back. Stationed outside the house like sentries. I told him it seemed like overkill considering the top of the line security system he had installed, plus Hank goes insane if anyone comes into the house that isn’t one of us. We tested his guard dog abilities and heaven help the person who breaks in here while he’s around. Not to mention the safe room he somehow managed to turn the back of the master bedroom closet into.

  It’s ridiculous what this man can make happen. Within an hour of making the call, a crew was here, knocking out the wall in the back of the closet that bumped up against the guest room closet. By the end of the day, both closets looked like any standard closet, both just slightly smaller than before. I appreciate him wanting to keep me safe, but the man is overprotective to the nth degree.

  “No, firecracker. End of.”

  “I let a man boss me around once before. I won’t let that happen again.” I know I’m being unreasonable comparing situations, but I’m feeling defensive and helpless.

  I can’t go to work. I was forced to take a leave of absence. I refuse to put anyone else at risk because of my stubbornness. I haven’t been out of this house since we picked Hank up a week ago. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a blissful week of spending time with Drake. Talking, having the best sex of my life, talking, sex, talking… more sex. You get the point. It’s a damn miracle I’m not bow-legged. I can’t help it. I’m insatiable when it comes to Drake. He’s just as hungry for me as I am for him. We can’t get enough of each other.

  There is no reason that I can’t go to my apartment while he goes to the office for a few hours. I have my bodyguard. Drake is just stubborn.

  “You know this isn’t the same thing.”

  My shoulder’s slump at the hurt sound in his voice. I know he’s right. He’s not trying to control me. He’s trying to keep me safe. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have compared that to this.”

  Drake hugs me tight. “I will never let anything happen to you like that again. It just makes me crazy to think of you out there somewhere without me. Please, wait until we can go together tomorrow.” He tucks my hair behind my ear, and I groan when it poofs right back out again. “Love your crazy hair, firecracker.”

  I scoff, rolling my eyes. He presses his lips to mine. I try to resist his irresistible kiss. Try to hold on to my frustration with his overprotectiveness, but I just can’t. I sink into his kiss. It doesn’t take long for that spark that always ignites when we are together like this to start burning. Drake groans as I rub against his half-hard cock, showing him how much I want him.

  He pushes me away, groaning at my needy whimper. “Baby, you’re killin’ me. I have to go to the office today, we—” he shakes his head, cutting off his own thought. I can’t help but wonder why exactly he has to go in. He’s been working from home this last week. Taking calls, but never leaving my side.

  Then this morning he got a call from Hutch and left the room. A few minutes later, he came back and said he needed to go. I asked to go with him, and he instantly shot me down. When I asked why he distracted me with kisses. I tried asking him what was wrong, but he evaded my questions. I have a suspicion that it has something to do with Frankie. It seems weird that he would keep me in the dark on anything involving Frankie though…

  I’m sure Drake has a good reason.

  “Please, just stay at home. I promise we will go pack up your apartment tomorrow.”

  I sigh, unhappily. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

  Drake nods, pleased. “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Law is outside, and I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

  One last quick kiss and Drake is gone. I putter around the house. There isn’t much to do because the place is still mostly empty. Drake told me I can decorate it however I want, but we were too busy christening every room to make the time to go furniture shopping. My phone rings and I have to run down to the kitchen to get it, cursing myself for forgetting it. Drake would be mad since his parting words were to keep my phone close.

  “Hello,” I pant into the phone.

  “Please don’t tell me you answered the phone while in the middle of hanky-panky with that stud muffin of yours.”

  “Lindsay!” I scold laughing. “Like I would answer the phone during hanky-panky as you call it.”

  Lindsay snorts. “It seemed less crass than saying ‘fucking.’”

  “Lord. Did you call just to tease me?”

  “Nope, I called to see if you were still alive or if you’ve been boned to death. It’s been five days since I heard from you, figured I better check-in and make sure you didn’t forget there is a world that doesn’t revolve around Drake’s dick.”

  “You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes so hard they might get stuck. Drama queen.”

  “Hey, it’s a valid concern. I mean, it’s been what, fifty years since your vagina got any action. You really should pace yourself.”

  “I’m hanging up on you now,” I threaten.

  Lindsay laughs. “No, you aren’t. You know you love me.”

  I force out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re right. Lord only knows why, though.”

  “Because I’m fucking awesome. Now, tell me everything.”

  “I’m not telling you about Drake’s penis if that’s what you’re after.”

  “Fine. Tell me everything else.”

  “It’s good. Great even. Drake talked me into moving in with him…”

  Lindsay snorts. “I’m sure he totally twisted your arm. He totally loves you. Why else would he let you bring that ugly mutt of yours home?”

  “Don’t talk about Hank that way.” Hank raises his head from his dog bed in the corner, looking at me lazily. He’s settled right into the good life. “He’s a handsome boy.”

  “Handsome? More like he’s got a face only a mother could love.”

  “Oh, you shut up. It’s not Hank’s fault you like cats.” I give the word ‘cats’ a disgusted little sneer, knowing it’ll rile my friend up.

  “Ha! Cats are the best. I refuse to get into another argument with you about how cats are superior to dogs. We should get lunch; tell Drake you need a break from his pants-snake and a little BFF time.”

  “Drake went to the office and told me to stay put. The crazy man won’t even let me go to my apartment to get my things! I have a freaking bodyguard around the clock for crying out loud.” Just talking about it is renewing my frustration at being told what to do.

  “I’m sure he just wants what’s best for you.”

  “He’s being pigheaded and controlling.”

  Lindsay is quiet on the other end of the line. I finally told her everything that happened with my past when Drake and I went to Kieffer’s for our usual monthly family dinner on Sunday. Kieffer and Drake were outside having man-talk while grilling. It feels great to finally have everything out in the open with my best friend. She wasn’t mad that I had held so much back. In fact, she hugged me and told
me she was so proud of me for overcoming everything that’s been thrown in my path.

  “Drake doesn’t seem the type to try to control you. He seems to like your stubborn, snarky self.”

  “Yeah, maybe, I agree.” But I can’t seem to shake the thought. I make up an excuse and end the call. I stew on it for a while longer getting more and more mad until I decide Drake is just going to have to deal.

  I’m not giving up my independence. Never again will I let a man dictate what I can and cannot do, no matter the reasoning. He has his best guys acting as bodyguards. If he didn’t trust them, he wouldn’t have them watching over me. Hell, Hutch wouldn’t have hired them if they weren’t the best of the best.

  It takes me five minutes to pull my hair into a messy bun, tug on my shoes, and tell Hank bye. I’ve barely made it two steps out of the front door before my guard is running up asking what I’m doing.

  “Well, Lawrence, I am going to go to my apartment and start packing it up. Is that okay with you, Lawrence,” I put emphasis on the last of his name because I know he hates it. Of all the guards I’ve met the last several weeks, he is my least favorite. He’s cocky and a bit of a dick. He might be good at his job, but he has one hell of a chip on his shoulder.

  His jaw ticks and I know he’s annoyed with my brattiness. Gotta give the man points when he ignores it. “Drake said you’re supposed to stay here while he’s gone.”

  “Well, Drake isn’t the boss of me, and I say I’m going to my apartment. You can either come with me or stay here. Doesn’t matter to me either way.”

  With a put-out sigh, Lawrence grabs my upper arm in his firm, yet gentle grip and leads me to his SUV. I swear the black SUV with dark tinted windows must be a requirement to be a bodyguard. Once we are both buckled in, Lawrence asks me one more time if I’m sure I want to do this. To which I respond with drive, or I’ll walk.

  He mutters something under his breath about Drake ‘fucking skinning his hide’ but starts the car anyway. The ride to my apartment is completely silent. I chew on my lip, having second thoughts about this little outing. Logically, I know Drake is nothing like Frankie, but I can’t seem to help bucking against his orders to stay put.