Chapter Fourteen
Angela
Butterflies fluttered in my abdomen when I heard the rhythmic knock on my door. Eric always knocked the same little beat whenever he came over. I quickly wiped my hands with a dishtowel, tossed it on the counter, and removed the apron I was wearing before heading toward the door.
I couldn’t stop the spreading of my lips, even if I wanted to when I opened the door to see him leaning against the side of the door. His signature dark jeans and T-shirt clung to the muscles of his arms and torso. A slight smile creased his lips, causing a glimmer in his dark eyes. Those dark orbs lazily scanned up and down my body, taking in the bright pink sleeveless tee and ripped blue jean shorts I wore. His smile increased when his gaze reached my bare toes. When his eyes met mine again, they were on fire.
Before I could say anything, a long arm snaked around my waist, pulling me into him and capturing my mouth. The kiss was hard and hungry. I opened up for him, letting him have his way with my mouth. I heard the door slam shut at the same time my back hit the wall.
“You look beautiful,” he said, once he finally came up for air.
“I’m just wearing a T-shirt and shorts.”
“I know. Take ’em off,” he said, his hands already pulling up my shirt, discarding it. Next, his hands went to unbutton my jean shorts and he began kissing a trail down my belly dropping to his knees. After lowering my shorts and panties, he pressed a kiss to my belly-button before he began tonguing it. Moisture seeped from my passage at the erotic move. My belly-button was a particularly erogenous zone for me; something only Eric had ever discovered. And since he had, he never neglected that hot spot whenever we were intimate.
His firm hands gripped the side of my thighs tightly, pulling me into him. His nose brushed against the neatly trimmed hairs that covered my sex. He adjusted, placing my left leg over his broad shoulder. I braced myself, one hand clamping around the hairs at the top of his head while the other reached for the arm he held against the wall. He covered me with his mouth and ate ravenously. Within minutes my entire body was trembling, only being held up by Eric’s hands
“Oh God!” I moaned, back arching off the wall behind me.
He pulled me into his mouth even more. A low growl sounded at the back of his throat, telling me how far gone he was. When his lips wrapped around my hardened button and sucked, he inserted two fingers inside of me, curling them to reach my g-spot, my pelvic muscles spasmed uncontrollably.
“Oh shiiit!” I rasped, my orgasm hitting me like a mack truck. My grip on his hair tightened as my hips moved wildly, wringing out the last moments of my orgasm. Eric waited until my orgasm completely passed, to lower my leg to the floor and stand. I opened my eyes to see the intensity of his gaze and his top lip shining with evidence of my satisfaction. I cupped his chiseled jaw and leaned up, licking my juices from his lips. He pressed me back against the wall, once again his tongue and mouth seizing the moment to take over. Within seconds, I heard the distinct sound of a condom wrapper wrinkling. I pulled back, and he placed the now opened wrapper in between us, and I grinned. This had become part of our usual routine as well.
I plucked the condom from his hands and then placed the condom between my lips, so it was standing. Just before I sunk to my knees, I saw the look of surprise on Eric’s face. Taking his erect penis in my hand, I lowered my head, moving to adjust my positioning, so my mouth was right over the tip. Slowly I used my mouth to roll the condom up the length of his shaft. When he hit the back of my throat, I released and pulled back, pausing to make sure the condom was securely sheathing him. I barely had time to finish my inspection when strong arms gripped me under my shoulders, pulling me back to my feet.
“You’re gonna have to do that move again. Without the condom,” he said against my lips. “But right now I need to be inside of you.” He lowered himself, pulling my legs up around his waist and pushed himself fully inside of me.
“Ohhhh,” I groaned, loving the delicious fullness I always felt when he first entered me. My hands went underneath his arms, to grip his back. I pressed my fingernails into the skin of his back through his T-shirt.
“Shit!” he grunted, grimacing.
I stiffened at the expression on his face. We’ve been in this position enough times thus far for me to recognize his looks of pleasure. This was not one of them. He seemed to be in pain, which he never had before when I pressed my nails into his back.
“What’s wrong?” I asked through pants.
“Nothing,” he responded quickly. Too quickly.
“Eric, are you o―”
My question was cut off by his mouth making contact with mine. He began moving his hips and soon enough any worry I was feeling fled into a distant memory. I was now consumed in a bubble of pleasure, supplied in only the way Eric could. He didn’t start off slowly; he ground his hips into me with the ferocity of a starving man making his way to his first meal in days. My head fell back against the wall, as his continuous ministrations had me feeling weak. He pumped so intensely my head bounced against the wall. Leaning his head down into the space between my shoulder and head, he bit the sensitive flesh there. I squeezed my hands into his back again, and this only spurred him on. I moaned and blubbered some words, I was pretty sure weren’t actual words, but it didn’t matter at all. The tingling sensation started at my curled toes, worked its way up my calves and thighs and exploding once it reached my core, surging through my belly until it finally burst out of my mouth on a loud yell.
“Erriiiiic!” I yelled his name as if it was a sacred chant because right then it was.
I tightened my knees around his waist when he, incredibly, picked up his pace, pounding hard as he growled into the space of my neck, yelling out his own orgasm. I held onto him, doing my best to provide comfort through his intense orgasm.
We panted for a long while, trying to regain our sanity after that episode. When my feet finally landed back on the hardwood floor, I was grateful for Eric’s heavy body still pressed against me. I was sure I would’ve collapsed in a heap on the floor, otherwise. We stood there, face-to-face for a long while, just staring at one another. Eric’s eyes were conveying something.
I don’t know how long we stood like that, but eventually, our silence was broken by his growling stomach. I giggled. “Worked up an appetite, huh?”
“Seems so,” he answered, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before stepping back.
I watched, licking my lips as he removed the condom and stuffed himself back into his jeans.
“I’ll throw this out.” Turning, he headed toward the bathroom.
When he left the room, I felt as if I could take the first real breath since the moment he arrived. I bent over, stepping into my panties and shorts. I headed back into the kitchen and felt relieved when I remembered I turned the pots on top of the stove off. I made a quick meal of fried pork chops, cheddar mashed potatoes, and sautéed green beans after Eric and I decided we’d stay in that evening. His shift didn’t end until six o’clock that evening, and when he called earlier, he sounded exhausted. I moved to the cupboards overhead, pulling down two plates, as I wondered what restored his energy between earlier and just now. He was like the Energizer Bunny out in the foyer. I still felt the tingling sensations thanks to the orgasms he gave me.
“Mmm,” I moaned when I felt his strong arms envelop me from behind. Leaning back against his broad chest, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, loving his scent. He smelled like us―of what we just shared―and I couldn’t get enough of the combination of our smells.
“I shouldn’t be thinking about sex while I’m in the kitchen.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Says who?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Women of decorum.”
He snorted. “Fuck them,” he growled, lowering his head to my neck, kissing it. I tilted my head to grant him better access, on instinct. But when I felt his hands move to the button of my shorts, I shook out of his hold.
“No.” I turned and pointed to him. “We have time for more of that later,” I said, swatting at his hand reaching for my shorts yet again. “You need to eat first. Go sit.”
He frowned, looking at me as if I was speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand.
“I’m serious! Go!” I shooed him away, giggling when he muttered a few curse words under his breath. I grinned and hummed a little to myself all while fixing both our plates. I carried them out to the table. Setting one down in front of an empty chair, I held the other out in front of Eric… but then pulled it just out of his grasp when he reached for it. His face crinkled in confusion.
“Rescue Four arrives on the scene of a two-story dwelling located on a cul-de-sac in which a fire is burning on the first floor. A neighbor approaches the firefighters, telling them details about the fire. What should be the first question the officer of the rig asks him?”
“There are no cul-de-sacs in Williamsport,” he grumbled, now eyeing the plate of food I still held.
“A. Where do you live and what is your address? B. Is there presently anyone inside the residence? C. Did you see any suspicious people around the house before the fire? Or D. How long have the owners lived in this house?” I continued, ignoring his statement.
“Seriously? You turned down screwing again because you insisted on feeding me, but now you’re quizzing me instead of feeding me,” he snarked.
“A, B, C, or D. Answer correctly and you get to eat. And we don’t screw.”
“B. Is there currently anyone present inside the residence. And we just screwed.”
I rolled my eyes, setting his plate down in front of him. “You’re lucky you got it right.” This had become part of our thing now, too. In helping him prepare for the lieutenant's exam, I would randomly ask him test questions I read out of his study guide or that I found online.
“Of course I got it right. As a firefighter, our top priority is ensuring the safety of others.”
I nodded. “You’re right about that. But we still don’t screw. Ah!” I yelped when he pulled me onto his lap.
“Then what do we do?” he asked before shoveling a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
I stared, watching him chew for a few heartbeats. How could a movement so trivial hold my attention captive?
“We make love,” I finally answered. “It’s true!” I insisted when he snorted in derision.
“Okay, Angel. Just don’t tell anyone else that.”
My belly tingled at the nickname he’d given me. “Okay, macho man.”
“Open,” he said, pointing a forkful of fried pork chop at me.
“I have my own plate.”
“I like it when you eat off mine. Open.”
My jaw slackened and eventually opened, allowing his fork entrance.
“You need to eat,” I insisted between chews.
“You do, too, and I’m not letting you move from my lap, so we’ll eat together. I plan on finishing this plate and then feasting on you for the rest of the night.” He reached up to kiss my neck.
I squeezed my thighs at the idea of spending the rest of the night with his head between them. I could already feel myself growing wet with anticipation.
“I shouldn’t be this far gone over you already.” I sighed, laying my head on his shoulder, chewing the mouthful of string beans he’d fed me.
“It was only inevitable, Angel.”
“How so?” I asked, my head popping up.
“Ladies can’t resist a fireman.” He winked.
“Oh yeah?”
He grinned. “It’s a well-known fact.”
“Whatever!” I laughed, tickling his sides and back.
“Shit!” he grunted when I made contact with one particular spot on his back.
“What’s wrong? Did I—” I moved, raising the dark T-shirt he wore, exposing his bare back. “Oh my God!” I screeched. On his beautiful, usually creamy-tanned back was a huge dark purple bruise. The thing ran almost up the entire side of his back. “What the hell happened to you?” I stood, moving around behind the chair, holding tightly to the shirt he tried yanking down.
“It’s nothing.” His tone lost all joking it held before.
“Eric, this isn’t nothing. Are you okay? Did you break anything? Oh my God! I dug my nails into your back out in the foyer. I could’ve hurt you. Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Angel, calm down. It’s just a little thing that happened at work.”
“A little thing? Have you seen the size of this bruise? Did you break anything?” I used my fingers to scan the rest of his upper body, as he now stood before me.
“No, nothing’s broken.”
“What happened?”
“It was just work.”
“Did you run into something? Or something run into you? Did you fall?”
“It was no big deal. Just part of the job.”
“Part of the job? Tell me what happened?” I was growing angrier by the second. The thought of Eric being seriously injured at work made me feel unhinged all of a sudden. Of course, I realized danger was part of the job, but seeing it up close was scarier than I ever thought. My father and brother always did a good job of playing down the dangers of their jobs, and I let them, choosing to think about the good they did instead of the fact that they had a job that required them to put themselves in harm’s way on a daily basis.
“I needed to jump out of a two-story window.”
I gasped. “What?”
“The ladder had been pulled down, and I was searching for a baby inside.”
“Oh my goodness!” I covered my face with my hands.
“Hey,” he called, removing my hands from my face, “I’m fine.”
“I know, but―”
“But nothing. We don’t think about the what-ifs in my line of work, okay?” He didn’t give me time to respond. My head fell back when he tilted my chin up, his lips devouring mine. I could taste the food he’d been eating on his lips, mixed with his flavor.
“Remember what I told you about my crew?” he asked, once he pulled back, my chin still in between his fingers.
My brain was foggy from his kiss. I tried to recall everything he said about the men he works with.
“They’re assholes.”
A deep chuckle moved past his lips. “Yes, and what else?”
The night we drove around and then parked out on the overlook where we listened to fire calls throughout the night came back to mind.
“They’re the best of the best. Your insurance policy.”
He nodded. “Exactly. You don’t have to worry about me.”
I knew they were just words. Knew he was saying it just to make me feel better. To feel less scared. But when he moved in again, his mouth covering mine, I had no more words, just the feeling of being swept up and carried by a wave. It took me a while to realize I was being carried. Eric had scooped me up in his arms and walked with me down the hallway. Finishing dinner took much longer that night.
****
Eric
“Oof! What are you doing?” I grumbled, sleep still in my eyes as I lay sprawled, stomach down in Angela’s bed. She’d just climbed on top of me, straddling, but sitting lower on my back toward my butt, as to not place her weight on my bruised side.
“I’m giving you a rub down.”
I laughed. “You didn’t do that enough last night?”
“No!” she insisted. After we made love… wait did I say make love? After we screwed again, and then finished our dinner, my Angel insisted on giving me a back rub before applying ice to my bruises.
“Last night was cold to reduce swelling. This morning I’m applying heat to help loosen up muscles. Just lay still.”
I felt a warm compress laid on my back and fuck all if it didn’t feel like heaven. I caught the moan that tried to escape my lips just before it made its way out. Instead, I relaxed, laying my head back down against the pillow. Angela’s soft hands reached up to my shoulders, rubbing and massaging the kinks out of them and my upper back. My body began to feel like jelly. This almost felt as good as being in between Angela’s thighs as I slid all the way to the hilt inside of her. Almost. Nothing felt as good as that. Hell, not even fighting fires. And for the last seven years, nothing had felt better than fighting fires.
“What’re your plans today?” I slurred.
“Spending the day with you… after I finish my wash day.”
I opened one eye, looking over my shoulder. “What’s a wash day?”
Her hands paused at my shoulders. “Have you ever dated a black woman before?”
“Yeah, a few. Why?”
“Have any of them had natural hair?”
“Natural hair? Isn’t all hair natural?”
She laughed. “Clearly, you weren’t too serious about any of them. You definitely would know more about our hair. Anyway, wash day is the day I set aside to pamper my hair. I usually reserve it for Sundays, but since I was otherwise occupied with you this past Sunday, I have to do it today.” It was Wednesday, one of her regular days she had off. She took off the previous night to spend it with me, having recently hired a new bartender.
“What does it entail?” I asked, laying my head back down and she resumed her massage.
“I usually pre-poo with coconut oil―”
“Pre-what?”
A giggle burst from her lips. “Pre-shampoo. We call it a pre-poo because it’s done before I shampoo my hair. I coat my strands with coconut oil to remove any shed hairs and detangle, then shampoo, do a deep condition, rinse it out, and then apply my leave-in and style.” She finished the last part as if it were simple.
“Sounds complicated.”
“It’s not. You get used to it, and with my short cut it’s much less time consuming than it used to be.”
“I wanna help,” I said, turning over to grab her waist and hold her in place as I shifted to lay on my back.
“Eric, your back!” she yelled.
“My back feels fine, especially after all your pampering. Let me help with your wash day.”
She stared at me, hands at her waist. “This is what you want to spend your day doing? Helping me wash my hair?”
“You said it wouldn’t take long, right? We can go see that damn chick flick you wanted to see when we’re done.”
A thirty-megawatt smile formed on her lips. “Really?” She leaned down, lips not far from mine. I took the opportunity to brush mine against them. Hell, I took every opportunity I could to feel her lips on mine and anywhere else I could get them.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let’s go.” She hopped off of me and out of bed. “You okay?” she asked, frowning when she saw me moving slowly to sit up.
My back did feel a little stiff, which was to be expected, but I knew it felt a shitload better than it would’ve felt without Angela’s nursing it. The day before the captain insisted I take the day off. I hadn’t wanted to but when I remembered it was a Wednesday, which meant I could spend the entire day with my Angel, my “no” suddenly became “okay.”
“Never felt better,” I responded, my hand at the small of her back urging her toward the bathroom.
“I didn’t know you could use coconut oil on hair,” I said, taking the jar with the liquid oil from her. “Do you pour it in your hair?” I asked. Although it was well into September, the temperatures had remained in the high eighties, allowing the oil that solidified during the colder months to remain in its liquid form.
She laughed. “No, I do this,” she began explaining and demonstrating at the same time. I watched as she took large sections of her hair and coated them with oil, removed any shed hair, and then put the section in twists. When she got to the back part of her hair that was too short for twists, she simply coated those strands with the oil.
“The coconut oil helps to prevent the shampoo from stripping too much moisture from my hair. Which is important since I added the color.”
I looked over and felt one of the twists she’d done, feeling the softness of her hair.
“Let me,” I said, reaching for the bottle of shampoo in her hand.
She blinked. “You want to shampoo my hair?”
“Yeah. It’s not hard. Get in the shower,” I directed, turning on the water. When I looked back to see her still standing there, an unsure expression on her face looking unsure, I reached for the T-shirt she wore, which was the one I’d worn the night before, pulling it over her head. My mouth watered when I saw she had nothing on underneath. “Get in.” My voice dropped an octave.
This time she did as requested.
I pushed the boxer briefs I wore to the floor, removing them, and stepped in behind her. “Is the water too warm?”
She shook her head.
I nodded slightly, taking her head and tilting it back so that it fell underneath the spray of the water. I made sure to drench every strand. Next, I turned the bottle of shampoo over in my hand, dropped the bottle when I had the sufficient amount, and then began massaging the cleansing agent into her hair. I started off doing small circles at the back of her head, moving my hands up and over her scalp. I lowered my eyes to her face to see her eyes closed, mouth parted.
“Is this good?” I questioned.
Her hands reached up to my wrists, holding them lightly. “Mmm,” she moaned. “Perfect. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop,” she repeated in a whisper.
My cock jumped between us, pressing against her belly. I quickly rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, knowing the inevitable was about to occur. I turned our bodies so that her back was against the wall, as I continued massaging her scalp with my fingertips. The spray of the shower head was now hitting my back as I leaned in, shielding her from it. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. I stole a kiss from her parted lips, then another and another. Her hands ran down my arms and up over my biceps until they reached the back of my head, pulling me into her. Using my knee I pushed her legs apart, reaching down with one arm to pull one of her legs up around my hip. I slid inside of her easily, and instantly an electric zing ran down my spine over my buttocks, causing me to thrust into her even deeper. My hand in her hair tightened, pulling her head back, exposing her neck to my awaiting mouth. I kissed, sucked, and nibbled on just about every part of exposed flesh as I could reach while thrusting in and out of her.
“E-Eric!” she panted.
I grew harder at the sound of my name spilling from her. I lost track of all time and space, getting completely caught up in her. My hips pumped and moved vigorously, needing more of this feeling. The muscles of her sex tightened and I growled when a feeling like no other came over me.
“Fuck!” I cursed into her neck, reveling in all the sensations that were pulling at me. Her muscles spasmed around me again, and I knew she was coming. I held on tighter, pushing her to her climax. I leaned back to watch her come―eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip sucked in between her teeth, face contorted, the vein in her neck bulging. Absolutely gorgeous.
I felt the swelling of my cock and knew I was about to explode as well.
“E-Eric,” she panted. “W-we didn’t use protection.”
I tried to make sense of what she was saying, but all I wanted was to feel my release let go inside of her.
“You h-have to pull out,” she continued, now pushing at my chest with her hands.
Through my daze, I realized why this time felt different. There was no barrier between us.
Shit! I didn’t want this feeling to end. I thought about staying right where I was, allowing my sperm to blast off in her womb.
“Fuck!” I cursed as I made my decision and pulled completely out of her, my come spilling on her upper thighs and stomach, and the floor of the bathtub.
I pressed my hand against the tiles of the bathtub, leaning into Angela, both of us, catching our breath. It took me a minute to process just how far gone I was and how close I was to ejaculating inside of her without any protection. Something I’ve never done before.
“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing my chin.
My hand went to the back of her neck, cupping it. I pulled back slightly, to let her see my eyes. “I won’t come inside of you until we’re married.”
Her eyes bulged at my declaration.
“Until?” she repeated.
I nodded. Then put my hands back into her hair. “You do the conditioner next, right?”
She stared at me for a moment before nodding. I knew I just dropped a bomb on her and she was figuring out what I meant. If I was serious. Of course I was serious. We may only be a few months in, but a man knows when he knows. And I knew.