Soaring (40 page)

It was teasing. It was lighthearted. It was funny. It was quite an experience to have the opportunity to sit with these men who spent a lot of time together, perhaps did some harrowing things trusting each other, and had an easy camaraderie.

The dinner was sloppy joes and baked frozen tater tots with brownies for dessert.

I ate it and almost the whole time I did it smiling.

Or laughing.

When everyone was done, we lounged while the guys started busting Freddy’s chops again as he did the cleanup.

Then Mickey tugged a tendril of my hair.

I turned my attention to him and he said quietly, “Time to get you on the road.”

I nodded and pushed away from the table without objection. They were hanging around waiting for a call that might not come, but if it did, they couldn’t have distractions.

And regardless of how clean and neat it all was, it was very much their world, their space, and although they’d all been welcoming, I got the sense that they were on their best behavior because of me and it would be better that they were free to let loose and do and say what they pleased.

Farewells were exchanged and Mickey took my hand and walked me downstairs.

We were at one of the two opened bays to the house when he gave my hand a tug to stop me.

I turned into him and pulled our hands free so I could put both mine to his chest. In return, Mickey curved an arm around me.

“You need a new microwave,” I announced and he let out a deep chuckle.

But he didn’t say anything.

“And a TV,” I went on. “And it’s shocking you have a kitchen that’s surely a fire hazard situated
in
a firehouse.”

His eyes were still amused when he replied, “We make do, Amy.”

“I would be of the opinion that men volunteering to put their lives on the line should expect more than
making do
.”

He didn’t lose any amusement but I could still see a hint of serious seep into his eyes when he said, “Okay, you don’t got a dick so you’re just gonna have to go with me on this when I say it’s okay for my girlfriend to make the guys brownies. It is
not
,” his arm gave me a squeeze, “okay for you to buy us a TV.”

That was precisely what I intended to do (plus a microwave) but I read the seriousness in his eyes and decided not to push that partly because I didn’t have a dick, he was right. He did, it was a very good one and he knew how to use it.

But mostly because he’d called me his girlfriend and I liked that a lot.

I didn’t want to appear eager and scary by sharing that fact with him so I asked, “Does the town give you
any
money?”

“Bobby’d lose his mind and the boys would not show up if our rig and gear was not all it needed to be. They keep us equipped that way, Amy. We’re guys. We don’t need a lot more.”

“Not even a better TV?” I queried incredulously.

“Gotta admit,” he mumbled, lips twitching. “That TV sucks.”

“Even when Archie Bunker was watching it, it sucked,” I mumbled back and he chuckled again. “Do you do any fundraising?”

He nodded. “Every year ’round Christmas, the wives and some wealthy broads in town throw a Fire and Policemen’s Ball, and ’round Valentine’s Day all the guys in the county step up for a Firefighter and Police Officer Bachelor Auction. But what we make on that goes into a pot to divvy out in case something happens in the line of duty.”

I ignored the “line of duty” business and asked, “Bachelor auction?”

He grinned and replied, “Things keep goin’ the way they are, this year, I won’t participate.”

This year?

I ignored that too and stated, “Oh yes you will. I’m loaded. I could go the distance to beat any woman who thought she could get her hooks in you for a dinner.”

His grin got bigger as his body started shaking. “Then next year, I’m first to sign up.”

I leaned closer, enjoying his humor and that I gave it to him. I still felt it important enough to push.

If gently.

“So, seeing as I’m not properly equipped to get it, but I still get it, and a direct donation from me is out, would it be unacceptable if a certain someone leaned on some local businesses that sell electronics to get them to donate a new microwave and TV? These efforts being anonymous, of course.”

His eyes warmed and his arm squeezed. “You wanna put the effort into that, knock yourself out. This keeps goin’ where it’s goin’ and you meet some of the other wives and girlfriends and wanna arrange somethin’ like you did for the junior boxing league so the guys got it better when we’re hangin’ around waitin’ for a call, that wouldn’t be a problem either.”

So I could get someone else to donate or raise money. But Mickey Donovan’s wealthy new girlfriend was not going to become the Magdalene Fire Department’s patron.

Understood.

I let that go and asked, “Do women invade the sanctity of the firehouse very often?”

“Yeah, considerin’ we got one in the company.”

This surprised me. Not that firefighters couldn’t be women, just that what I saw appeared to be a man’s domain.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She’s tough. She’s good. Been with us four years. Name’s Misty.”

A firefighter named Misty was incongruous and humorous for several reasons.

I did not smile.

I mumbled, “Misty the firefighter.”

Mickey gave me one of his easy grins. “Yeah. She took a lotta shit about that girlie name while she was a recruit.”

“There aren’t a lot of women named Butch,” I pointed out and got another chuckle. “Was she okay with that?” I asked.

“She didn’t have a choice,” he answered. “You take it or you get the fuck out. She gets sensitive and pissy about gettin’ shit about her name, no way she has it in her to aim a hose at a wall of flame.”

I didn’t like the sound of that last part but I didn’t let on and instead queried, “So, how about wives and girlfriends?”

“It happens. They show. Necessarily, this is a family. You’re part of the family, you’re welcome.” He bent his neck to put his face close to mine. “But everyone knows, the men and their women, our woman and her man, there’s an unwritten rule. Dinner’s okay. Occasionally. Droppin’ in to drop shit off or have a chat, that too. The boys may look laidback but they gotta do that bein’ prepared. So we keep distractions at a minimum.”

I nodded.

Then I didn’t know why I did it, but I figured I did it because I had to know.

This being asking, “Have you fought a lot of fires?”

He lifted his free hand to curl his fingers around the side of my neck and used his thumb to stroke the skin under my jaw when he replied carefully, “Seen a fair few.”

I let that go because I didn’t want to delve deeper and changed to teasing.

“Rescue many cats from trees?”

“Yeah.”

I blinked up at him in surprise.

“I thought that was a myth.”

He shook his head. “Big cities do not rescue cats. You call a fire department in a city to rescue a cat, they’ll tell you to call animal control. We’re not a big city. We’re a small community and our commitment is to serve that community. So people call us about cats in trees and we do what we can. This does not include takin’ the rig out and using our ladder to rescue Fluffy. This includes sending a guy out to see what he can do to help. We also get calls about cats gone missin’. Dogs gone missin’.
Kids
gone missin’. Cats and dogs, we don’t roll out. Kids, obviously, we do. Then there’s domestic disturbances. Car crashes. Smoke alarms goin’ off. Someone fallin’ off a ladder cleanin’ their gutters. Someone slicin’ into their finger cuttin’ tomatoes. You name it, call comes in direct or they’re punted to us from 911.”

“Someone slicing into their finger?”

“Me, Jimbo and our two lieutenants are certified EMTs and Freddy’s doin’ his training. Doesn’t matter. It’s protocol for the FD to be called in the event of a household accident. But in Magdalene’s case, closest hospital is twenty minutes away, closest independent ambulance service is fifteen. Even with ambulances on the cruise, in most cases, our boys can get there faster. ”

I blinked again. “You’re an EMT?”

“Got outta high school, the next month went to firefighter school. Graduated, volunteered at MFD while goin’ for my EMT. While doin’ it, lived in the room over my best friend’s parents’ garage and worked my dad’s catches for money.”

Wow. Mickey
really
wanted to be a firefighter and all that entailed.

“Your dad didn’t get angry you didn’t join the family business?” I asked.

“Nope,” he replied, shaking his head. “He paid for my training. All of it. Said if I went to college like Sean, Frank and Dylan, he’d be payin’ for that so he paid for what I wanted to do. And he was proud of me. Fuckin’ seriously proud of me. Proud of all his boys and showed it. He didn’t want anything for me, or any of us, except to love what we’re doin’ and be happy.”

“I think I like your dad,” I murmured.

“Lot to like. Good man. Good dad. Good granddad.” Mickey gave me another grin. “He’ll like you too. He likes cute and smartass.”

I very much liked that he seemed sure I would meet his dad but it was on the tip of my tongue to ask if his father liked Rhiannon. I stopped myself because that was a question that would change our comfortable mood to an awkward one. Not to mention it wasn’t any of my business, and further she was gone, so it didn’t matter anyway.

I pushed closer, saying, “I knew you were impressive because you’re good-looking, a good dad and a good man. Now I know there’s a lot more to be impressed with about you, Mickey.”

He shifted his hand to cup my jaw and said through low chuckles, “Got my looks from my folks, Amy. That’s hardly impressive.”

“You don’t get to look at you all the time. Trust me, it’s impressive.”

He kept chuckling as he bent closer and started kissing me.

It felt great but it didn’t last long before he ended it and ordered in a whisper, “Go to sleep with your phone by your bed, baby.”

He was coming to me.

That made me happy.

I pressed even closer and replied, “Okay, honey.”

He bent in and touched his mouth to mine once before breaking contact and saying, “Go home and careful getting there.”

I nodded, got up on my toes, gave him my own lip touch and then pulled out of his hold and walked away on my silver pumps.

Even though I wanted to turn, wave, see him one more time, I felt his eyes following me, I hoped he liked what he saw, so I gave that to him and just kept walking.

* * * * *

Hazily I looked down at Mickey on his back in my bed, head to the pillows, while I rode his cock, shifting and angling my hips so every other stroke the head of it grazed the slick walls inside me, hopefully giving him something while I gave the same to me.

My hope was granted when he growled, “
Fuck
,” knifed up and wrapped an arm around my hips, jerking me and angling me himself as he pulled me up and down, forcing me to ride him faster and harder.

His other hand trailed up the silk of my nightie at my side and in, cupping my breast, his thumb dragging hard against my nipple, using the silk as added friction.

His touch shot through me, my hips bucked and I lifted my hands to the sides of his head, whispering, “Mickey.”

“Like your nighties, baby,” he told me and then pinched my nipple, keeping hold and twisting gently.

That sent my hips jolting. I gasped as my sex convulsed around him, lost my rhythm and started grinding.

“Ride, Amy,” he ordered gruffly, releasing my nipple but only to drag the silk and lace down, baring my breast and bowing his back to take it in his mouth and suck deep.

Oh.

Even better.

I rolled my hips and clenched my fingers on his head as I panted, “Oh my God,” stuck in feeling all he was making me feel and unable to do anything but
grind
.

His mouth released my breast and his head tipped back.

“
Ride
,
Amy,” he demanded on a growl, his thumb dragging over the slick his mouth left at my nipple.

All I could do was glory in his cock buried deep, Mickey all around me, his thumb teasing my nipple so I didn’t do what I was told. I kept grinding and my head dropped back.

“Right,” he bit out and surged up, still connected, and I was on my back in the bed, Mickey on me, one hand clasped to the back of one knee, yanking it high, the other arm wound around me, holding me steady, as he drove into me.

“Oh God,” I breathed.

“Work your clit,” he ordered.

That clit contracted at the order.

His mouth came to mine. “Wanna feel you workin’ yourself as I fuck you. Do it. Now, baby.”

I shoved a hand between us and down and did it.

When I did, my heels dug into the backs of his thighs and my hips came off the bed. Not long after, my head dug into the duvet and my lips parted.

Because I went soaring.

I felt Mickey’s mouth at my throat until I righted my head and then I felt his mouth on mine, the invasion of his tongue, and I loved how much Mickey kissed while he made love to me.

He quit doing that when he normally quit doing that, and I cupped my hands on the back of his head to hold him to me so his grunt of release filled my mouth.

He rode me hard through his orgasm before he rode me soft and did it with the same kind of kiss.

When it left him, he ended the kiss, but gave me another one on my nose, then my chin before he slid out, saying gently, “Gotta get ready for work, darlin’.”

I held on, not clingy, just lightly, as he moved out of my arms.

I did this nodding.

It was Friday morning. My kids were going to be there after school. I would see them but I wouldn’t see Mickey until they were gone.

He pulled the bedclothes over my lower half before he exited the bed.

I twisted so I could watch him saunter to the bathroom.

I curled into myself as I heard the shower go on.

This was becoming our routine.

Mickey came to me after being at the firehouse. Had sex with me. Slept with me. Had sex with me in the morning. Showered at my place. Went to his, changed clothes and went out.