Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jack
Four weeks into whatever this was between us and I had to admit I was having the time of my life.
It was refreshing to have open conversations with the women.
Now that Lilah had eased up, I realized part of her crunchy exterior was firmly rooted in her love for and protectiveness of Emmy.
I also learned they weren’t technically sisters, although I didn’t pry for details because I sensed their shared childhoods weren’t happy stories.
Emmy and I were texting now, and I’d even dropped a “good girl” on her when I took her out to dinner a few nights earlier—without Lilah, who had to work but gave us her blessings to go—and loved the smile and pink cheeks that earned me.
I would take this slowly. I saw no warning signs, but while we’d had basic conversations about kinky topics, we hadn’t delved deeply into it. Mostly because I wanted to honor my promise about not being “that dude” and pushing the boundaries of the friend-zone I’d put myself into with Emmy.
Yet, I also noticed little signs of Emmy starting to close the natural gap between us. Things like her good-night hugs turning longer, her kissing my cheek, snuggling against me on the couch when we watched TV and encouraging me to put my arm around her.
And everything was progressing at what I thought was a pleasant and no-stress pace when everything went to shit.
I was working a wildfire that broke out near the interstate, with strong winds whipping it up and quickly overwhelming the Forestry crew fighting it.
To the point that they’d had to close the highway, backing traffic up for miles.
And we were receiving radio reports of embers blowing toward town, sparking smaller fires other crews were having difficulty keeping up with, including a few structure fires.
It was near dusk and I’d been on the line over twelve hours at that point, on duty over thirty-six hours, when a state trooper walked up to where I was sucking down water near one of the trucks. “Hesten?”
I nodded, my gut tightening. “Yeah?”
He handed me a cell phone and it took me a moment to actually reach for it. “Hello?”
“Heeeey, Jack.” Lilah. “Okay, buddy. You want the good news or the bad news?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You’re obviously okay, so please tell me Emmy’s okay?”
“What? Oh! Yeah, sorry. We’re fine. Let me just rip the bandage off—you’re now living with us.”
I blinked, certain I’d misheard her. “What? Why?”
“Well, because you don’t have an apartment anymore.”
I groaned. “Fuuuuck me.”
“Now, don’t be too upset,” she quickly added.
“Your apartment didn’t actually burn, but there was a lot of water and smoke damage.
And we grabbed most of your stuff like your clothes, computer, and the things on your shelves.
Your furniture’s a loss, and so’s your TV and stuff, but we got the important stuff out, I think. ”
I leaned against the truck. “Shit. There were a couple of photo albums, and—”
“Got ’em,” she said, no hint of mirth in her tone. “And their urns. They’re safe. No damage.”
The prickle hitting my eyes this time wasn’t from smoke, it was relief.
It was also what now choked me up. “Thank you, Lilah,” I managed. “Seriously, even if I lost everything else, those were the most important.”
“Well, you didn’t,” she said. “I heard the call-out on the radio and phoned Emmy. She was at home and she grabbed my truck and called a few people and dove in there. It started on the far end of the building but was mostly out by the time I arrived. They broke in through the back sliders to salvage stuff.”
“Jesus.” I wouldn’t be the first firefighter to lose everything while fighting to save someone else’s home, but damn, it could’ve been a lot worse. “Anyone hurt?”
“Not even any pets,” she assured me. “Everyone got out safe, and the Red Cross is already helping people.”
“Okay.” I sniffled back unexpected tears. “Thank you.”
“Hey, you don’t owe us anything. She’s putting everything in our garage except for the albums and urns. She said they’ll stay on the kitchen counter until you get home. We’ll figure out the rest later. Okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I ended the call and returned the trooper’s cell. The captain looked at me. “How bad?”
“Not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.”
Emmy
The four of us took maybe twenty minutes to load our vehicles after getting the okay to go in.
I might have stretched the truth and said Jack was my boyfriend. Since I knew some of the firefighters, and I knew the deputy on the scene through Lilah, we got away with it.
We dumped clothes into garbage bags while I focused first on the albums and urns, which I knew from our previous visits were the only things he’d truly care about.
Once I had carefully tucked them in the passenger seat of the truck, I helped empty as much as we could save, including using his clothes and towels to pad his collectibles so they wouldn’t get damaged.
Thankfully, he didn’t have a fraction of the stuff we did.
I’m glad I was the one taking point on his bedroom closet, though, because at the bottom of it, I found a duffle bag. It was heavy. When I unzipped it, I realized what was in it, quickly zipped it again, and personally carried it to the truck where I shoved it into the passenger-side footwell.
Two hours later, I sat on the floor of our spare bedroom with a cold beer in my hand and unzipped the smoky-smelling bag. Out came coils of rope in various colors, several books on bondage, and then…
My face heated as I fingered the soft leather flogger. I knew about them, duh, but aside from kinky videos and books, I had not actually handled one before.
I set it aside and removed a riding crop, rattan cane, a small wooden paddle, and a blue acrylic paddle. Laid out on the floor, the belated realization hit me that our philosophical conversations were absolutely rooted in reality, not just hypotheticals.
Yes, I also fully recognized this was a huge breach of his privacy, but…
Yeah. I had to know.
I wanted to know.
He’d been a man of his word but the way he’d called me “good girl” at dinner the other night unexpectedly drenched my panties in a way I had not expected.
At all.
And in a way I realized I really liked.
When he finally arrived, Lilah wasn’t home because she’d been called out to assist with logistics regarding the wildfire and I had neatly replaced everything into the duffle bag and set it on the floor at the end of the bed in the spare bedroom.
He looked exhausted, smelled like smoke, and what I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and hug him.
“Sorry I’m so much trouble,” is what he said when he walked in after I met him at the door.
“You’re not trouble,” I said, meaning it. “You needed help and I was able to help.”
He dropped a large gear bag on the tile floor in the entryway and trudged into the kitchen, where he stared at the three urns before reaching out and flipping through the undamaged albums.
I closed the front door and followed him. “I wasn’t sure where to put them. I figured I’d let you do that.”
He slowly nodded, his eyes tearing up. I knew he’d lost them when he was fifteen, in a drunk-driving crash, but just like he hadn’t pried into our pasts we offered him the same respect.
“Thanks, sweetie,” he hoarsely said.
Then he turned and tightly hugged me and I didn’t care he smelled like smoke and sweat and still wore his turnout pants. I wrapped my arms around him and noted how right this felt.
Everything about him felt right.
I don’t know how long we stood there, but he kissed my forehead before releasing me and stepping back. “Thank you, again, sweetie,” he said.
Maybe this wasn’t the right time to have this conversation, but I had a feeling if it wasn’t discussed now, it might grow into an uncomfortable topic that grew more so the longer it was left unspoken.
“I found your bag,” I said. “It’s in the guest room.”
He froze, staring down at me. “My… bag?”
“Yeah. That bag.”
He blinked. “Um… oh.”
I forged ahead. “I’m sorry. We were moving so fast to get stuff out and I unzipped it there, saw what was in it, and then later once I was here…”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You snooped,” he finished, and it wasn’t a question.
My cheeks heated. For some reason, I automatically clasped my hands behind my back and I couldn’t meet his gaze. “Yes,” I whispered.
He didn’t speak for an uncomfortably long time. I finally looked up to find him still staring at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.
“Yes, what?” he softly said.
Oooh, there went my pussy again, this time full-on clenching and my clit throbbing. “Yes… Sir?” I tried.
He reached out with one finger and tipped my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Do we need to have a talk?”
My mouth went dry and I fought the urge not to squirm. I know we’d said we’d take it slow, and I’d meant it.
But goddammit, the more time I spent with him, the hotter he was.
“Maybe, Sir,” I whispered.
His left eyebrow slowly arched. “I promised you I wouldn’t push.”
“I kind of think I’m the one pushing, Sir.”
“You keep calling me that, I’m going to want you to keep calling me that.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe I want to keep saying it.”
He indicated for me to sit at the kitchen table and I did, him taking the chair across from me. “I really want to go take a shower, and eat, but I think we need to deal with this right now, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he softly said and yes, I fucking moaned.
Which made him smile in a deliciously evil way right off the page of a romance novel.
“You like it when I call you that? My good girl?”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
He sighed. “Yes, I’m kinky. You knew that. What you didn’t know is that I’m heading over to Rawhide Ranch in a couple of weeks to take several days of classes in shibari.”
I blinked. “In what?”
“Rope bondage.”
“Oh.”
He reached across the table, holding his hands out and waggling his fingers at me to take his hands, so I did.
“You don’t know if you’d like kinky me,” he said. “And I meant it when I said I have no problem only being friends, if that’s what you want.”
He didn’t fill the silence as his words faded away so I found myself asking it. “And if I want more?”
“You’ve never been in a kinky relationship before.
” He laughed. “Technically, neither have I. But I know what I want—what I need—in a way I didn’t when I was a young and stupid kid.
I would never tell you to stop working, or interfere with your job, or your relationship with Lilah.
But we would negotiate our personal relationship where I’m in charge. ”
I considered that. “Like, you’d force me to have sex with you?”
He gently squeezed my hands and shook his head.
“No. The opposite. I want you only if you’re willing to be with me.
I have no interest in being a psychopath or sociopath.
To me, the best part is the dynamic. Knowing that you’re with me not because I’m forcing you to, but because you choose to.
But being with me means trusting me and giving me control in the areas where I want that control. ”
My pulse raced and I struggled to ignore my throbbing clit. “Do I get to have rules?”
“We will negotiate limits, yes.”
“I don’t want to share you with anyone.”
“I wouldn’t share you with anyone, either.” His thumbs stroked the backs of my fingers. “I want to take care of my good girl. If my girl isn’t happy, then I’m not doing my job right.”
Hell, my nipples had now joined the horny-lujah chorus and I fought the urge to squirm in my chair.
“Can I go to the class too?” I asked.
“Well, there’s an application process. I don’t know if they’ll have any rooms available, though. You might have to stay with me in mine.”
I swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t want to go if I couldn’t share a room with you,” I managed to whisper. “Sir.”
He sucked in a deep breath, his thumbs stilling. “We need to do this responsibly. I don’t want to end up in a body bag in the back of Lilah’s SUV.”
I giggled—and when the fuck did I ever giggle before meeting Jack?—and said, “She likes you, Sir.”
Yeah. That word felt… right.
Felt perfect.
But he wasn’t finished. “We need to exchange test results and discuss protection. I’m not saying we absolutely will have sex there, but I’d rather prepare in advance if that’s the direction we take this.
And,” he quickly added, “no, I’m still not ‘expecting’ sex from you.
If we end up having sex before we go, fine.
If we don’t, and we don’t even have sex while we’re there, I know how to jerk off.
I meant it when I said I will not force you—you need to want to do it. ”
I licked my lips. “What if I want to do it right now?”
His gaze narrowed again and dammit, if that wasn’t lethal to my self-reserve I don’t know what was.
“We are not having sex right now.”
My heart fell. “Why not?”
“Because for starters I stink and I’m exhausted.
I’m barely vertical. Secondly, because we need to have that discussion first, and others.
Third, I need to eat. Fourth, if you’re serious about going to the class, I want to talk about that first, show you information about the Ranch, and then we need to fill out your application and submit it as soon as possible. ”
“You mean they might not let me go?”
“I joined after being sponsored by a friend who’s not only a member but works there. The general public can’t walk in off the street. It’s very safe, but it’s exclusive in that it’s very… protective,” he finally said.
“Okay.”
He studied me for a long moment. “Which bathroom do you want me to use?”
“I put stuff in the guest bathroom at the end of the hall for you.”
He nodded. “Good girl.”
I noticed he watched me when he said it. I’m sure I didn’t disappoint.
He released one of my hands and stood, urging me up and pulling me into his embrace again, where he stared down at me.
He felt… safe.
He’d always felt safe, even from that first night he came over for dinner.
I know it hadn’t been very long, but I will admit I’d never felt like this before about anyone.
“Would you please make me something to eat while I take a shower?”
I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
He smiled and I thought he was going to kiss me on the lips, but instead he pressed another kiss to my forehead, lingering, and damned if that wasn’t even sexier. “That’s my very good girl,” he whispered. “We’ll talk more after my shower, while I eat, okay?”
I wrapped my arms tighter around him, wishing I could freeze this moment in time. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”