Chapter 11
Lucy
I loved waking up in Marcus’ bedroom. The sheets were so soft. The morning light so sweet. My Daddy’s steady breathing filled the room, peaceful and calm. I stretched, feeling contentment settle over me like a warm blanket. Beside me, Marcus lay asleep, his features relaxed, handsome in repose. There was something comforting about watching him, a tranquility that made me want to linger in this moment.
I didn't want to wake him just yet. Slipping out of bed, I tiptoed across the room, careful not to make a sound. The wooden floor felt cool beneath my feet as I made my way to the kitchen. I decided on pancakes—a simple breakfast with an aroma that could wake anyone from even the deepest slumber.
The kitchen welcomed me with its familiar hum, the counter-tops a testament to Marcus's understated style. I found what I needed: flour, eggs, milk. The whisk felt right in my hand, the rhythm of mixing soothing my thoughts. As the batter sizzled in the pan, the sweet scent began to fill the house, a promise of something good.
Something good.
Like the something that had happened last night. My mind went back to that place, and a torrent of sensation flooded my still drowsy brain. The way Marcus's touch had ignited a fire within me, each caress setting my skin ablaze with desire. His lips on mine, exploring, seeking, finding solace in the connection they shared. She could still feel the heat of his body pressed against hers, the way he whispered words of tenderness that melted her defenses.
The memory of our passion lingered like a sweet ache, a reminder of the raw intensity that had consumed me.
I’d been worshiping his cock, and he’d been worshiping my . . . everything. I sighed. In the quiet of the morning, with the scent of pancakes wafting through the air, I found herself lost in a reverie the connection we shared.
The feeling of his tongue on her clit.
The feeling of his hand on her bottom.
She shivered.
"Morning." Marcus's voice, still rough with sleep, came from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, hair tousled, eyes warm. A sight that made my heart skip. "Something smells amazing."
"Just pancakes," I replied, trying not to seem like I was just thinking about Marcus’ wicked tongue. "Hope you're hungry."
"Always," he chuckled, moving closer. “Especially after last night.”
I blushed. He walked lazily over, kissed my check. He smelled so good. Like happy memories and the thrill of the future, all in one. The kitchen seemed to shrink around us, the air thick with unspoken things. It was easy between us—the teasing, the laughter. Every word seemed to weave another thread into whatever this was becoming.
"So,” Marcus said as he took his first bite. “What's your secret? Why are these so much better than mine?" He looked at me with mock suspicion, blue eyes sparkling.
"Family recipe," I said, tapping my nose. "Passed down for generations. Ultra top secret."
"Ah, well that’s reassuring. I don’t have a family recipe to cheat with," he teased, leaning back in his chair, satisfaction etched on his face.
“Cheat?” I exclaimed, pretending to be scandalized. “How dare you?”
"You're alright," I played along, trying to suppress a giggle. But inside, there was a storm of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and something thrillingly new.
We finished breakfast amidst more banter, each jest a gentle nudge deeper into the connection we were building. For a moment, it felt like the world outside had faded away, leaving just us and the lingering aroma of pancakes—a small corner of happiness carved out in the quietude of morning.
"Marcus leaned back in his chair, eyes thoughtful. 'There's the carnival in town tonight,' he said, like it was an afterthought.
I perked up, heart skipping a beat. “I love carnivals! I haven’t been to the Small Falls carnival since I was a kid,” My voice held a teasing lilt. “Maybe I'll see you there.”
His lips curved into that slow smile of his, the one that made my stomach flip. “Maybe.”
The unspoken invitation hung between us—a silent promise wrapped in possibility. The room felt electric, charged with something new and thrilling.
As we cleared the table, our fingers brushed, a small spark that set off a chain reaction inside me. I bit my lip, trying to focus on stacking plates instead of the warmth spreading through my chest. Marcus stood close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him, a magnetic pull that was hard to ignore.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he said, his voice low and sincere.
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Anytime.”
But inside, I was anything but composed. My mind raced ahead to the evening, imagining the vibrant chaos of the carnival. It was as if the day had split open, revealing layers of bright possibilities.
After breakfast, I decided it was time to head home. “I should get going,” I said, reluctantly pulling away from the moment. “I feel like I should do a little painting today. Get back on track.”
“You want my help?”
“I do—but I also know you need to run your store. I’m not going to be responsible for you running your business into the ground.”
He chuckled and nodded, understanding in his gaze. “Fair enough, Little one. I'll walk you to the door.”
We moved together, almost in sync, each step filled with an unsaid awareness. At the threshold, we paused, facing each other.
Then he kissed me—soft and lingering, a goodbye and a promise all at once. It left me breathless, craving more.
“See you later,” he murmured, voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
I gave him a mischievous smile, holding Mr. Whiskers close. “Maybe you will, Daddy.” I replied, turning away before the flush on my cheeks gave me away.
As I walked out into the day, the promise of the carnival played on repeat in my mind. It was a game we both knew we wanted to play, and the stakes felt exhilaratingly high.
***
I must confess, I didn’t get much painting done that day.
How could I, with the promise of the carnival to come? I mean, I did some . A single coat, in my bedroom, of the neutral color I’d chosen, and an undercoat in the kitchen. I was glad that I’d managed to get something done, despite my distraction.
What did I do for the rest of the day?
Why, planning my outfit, mostly.
I stood in front of my closet, fingers brushing the fabric of each dress. My mind spun with thoughts of Marcus and our unspoken plan to "accidentally" meet at the carnival. The excitement was a restless flutter in my chest.
"Focus, Lucy," I whispered to myself, tapping a finger against my chin. My eyes landed on a breezy sundress, its vibrant colors echoing the festive spirit of the carnival. Perfect. I slipped it on, feeling the cool fabric settle around me, light and full of promise.
As I got ready, a mix of nervousness and thrill coursed through me. It was like riding a roller coaster, that moment when you're climbing toward the top, heart racing, knowing something big is about to happen.
"Okay, Mr. Whiskers, wish me luck," I said, glancing at my Stuffie who was lounging lazily on the bed. Thinking twice about leaving him, I grabbed my old friend and stuffed him in my bag.
With one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my bag and keys, heading out into the world that felt suddenly bright with possibilities.
The town square buzzed with life. Stalls lined the cobblestone paths, draped in colorful banners. The air hummed with laughter and music, a cheerful medley underscoring the chatter of families and friends. Kids darted past, their faces sticky with cotton candy, while couples strolled hand-in-hand, sharing shy smiles.
I wandered through the crowd, senses alive with the scents of caramel popcorn and grilled sausages. My heart beat faster with every step, the hope of running into Marcus dancing at the edge of my awareness.
"Hey there, Lucy!" someone called, and I waved back absentmindedly, my focus still on scanning the crowd. Where was he? The anticipation was electric, a live wire of possibility threading through the evening air.
A child bumped into me, giggling as she apologized, her small hands clutching a balloon shaped like a cartoon character. I smiled and continued, weaving through the throngs of people, each face a blur except for the one I sought.
"Come on, where are you?" I murmured to myself, the words lost in the carnival's lively chaos.
"Lucy, over here!" Marie's voice cut through the din, warm and welcoming. I spotted her behind the counter of The Daily Grind's pop-up booth, a bright smile lighting up her face. As I approached, she enveloped me in one of her signature hugs, all warmth and affection.
"You look absolutely radiant!" she exclaimed, pulling back to give me an approving once-over. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, noticing my sundress. "Got a hot date, or just trying to outshine the carnival lights?"
"Maybe both," I replied, unable to hide my grin. The truth was, Marcus had been on my mind since I left his place this morning. And the possibility of seeing him again set my heart racing.
"Well, if anyone can pull it off, it's you," Marie said with a wink, turning to fill my usual order. The comforting aroma of coffee mingled with the sweet scent of pastries, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace.
"Thanks, Marie," I said, accepting the steaming cup she handed me. We chatted briefly about the day's events, the bustling crowd, and plans for the autumn. It felt good to slide into easy conversation with someone who knew me so well.
Just as I took a sip, a presence appeared at my side, the proximity sending a jolt through me. I glanced up to find Marcus standing there, his expression unreadable but eyes twinkling with that playful glint I had come to adore.
"Fancy meeting you here," he said casually, though the suggestion of amusement colored his tone. He looked effortlessly handsome, his broad shoulders filling my vision and making the world blur at the edges.
"What a coincidence," I replied, matching his teasing energy.
Marie raised an eyebrow, expertly reading between the lines. "I'll leave you two to it," she smirked before turning to help another customer.
"Shall we?" Marcus gestured toward the lively chaos of the carnival beyond.
"Lead the way," I said, feeling a bubble of excitement rise within me.
We drifted from booth to booth, our laughter mingling with the carnival's vibrant soundtrack. At each stall, we tried our luck, our competitive banter punctuated by genuine enjoyment. A ring toss here, a dart throw there—none of it mattered except for the shared experience.
"You're terrible at this," I teased, nudging him with my elbow as yet another ball veered wide of its target.
"Hey, I'm just warming up," he retorted, feigning indignation. His smile was infectious, drawing my own in response.
"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night," I shot back, reveling in the light-hearted exchange.
As the evening wore on, the atmosphere became even more enchanting. Strings of lights crisscrossed above us, casting a soft glow over the stalls and painting everything in hues of gold.
"This time I’m going to win something," Marcus said with certainty, nodding towards a booth promising oversized stuffed animals as prizes.
"I’ll believe it when I see it.”
The shooting gallery lights flickered, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on Marcus's focused face. I watched him intently, my heart racing with anticipation as he took aim. His hands were steady, his eyes narrowed in concentration. The crack of each shot rang out, echoing against the carnival cacophony. One by one, every target fell.
"Well, color me impressed," I said, unable to hide the admiration in my voice.
Marcus allowed himself a small smile. He turned to the booth operator, who gestured toward a lineup of prizes. Without hesitation, he plucked a plush teddy bear from its perch—a ridiculous thing with a big red bow—and turned to me with a flourish.
"For you, milady," he announced, offering it with a mock bow that was both chivalrous and teasing.
I laughed, the sound escaping before I could catch it. The bear was soft and silly, but something about the gesture made warmth bloom inside me. I hugged it close, feeling the plush fur against my skin. "Thank you," I murmured, meeting his gaze. There was a spark there, an unspoken connection that made the bustling fairground fade away for a moment.
"Anytime," Marcus replied. “Well, you know, anytime that there happens to be a carnival in town. So pretty much once a year.”
We moved along, the bear tucked securely under my arm, when a familiar voice cut through the crowd. "Look who it is!" It was Marcus’ firefighter brother, Brett. He was operating a grill. He wiped his hands on a towel, the smell of grilled food surrounding him like a welcoming cloud.
"Hey, Brett!" Marcus greeted, his tone lighter than I'd heard before.
"Didn't expect to see you two here together," Brett continued, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
"Small town, big surprises," I quipped, trying to match their ease, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me.
"Yeah, well, it's good to see," Brett said, nodding towards the bear. "Looks like you've already won a prize."
"Marcus has skills," I admitted, glancing at him, his presence comforting yet electrifying.
"Always knew he had a good aim," Brett teased, winking, his tone teasing but warm.
"How's the grill treating you?" Marcus asked, shifting the focus, but not quite erasing the charged air between us.
"Busy night, but worth it," Brett replied, gesturing to the line forming beside his stall. "Gotta keep the town fed, right?"
"Right," Marcus agreed, his eyes flicking back to me, as if checking to ensure I was still there, still present in this shared moment. “And when you accidentally start a fire, you can put it out, too.”
We all laughed.
"These are on the house for the lovebirds." He winked, his hazel eyes alight with mischief. He passed us a burger each.
“Lovebirds?” I spluttered, looking anxiously left and right. “We’re not lovebirds, we’re just—we didn’t even plan to meet—this isn’t a date, is it, I just—”
“Baby girl,” Marcus said with a growl, “this is a date. And I don’t know about you, but I feel like a damn lovebird.”
My heart pounded in my chest.
“Damn,” said Brett. “I was just fooling around. You two are a thing?”
Marcus looked to me. I nodded, embarrassment burning my cheeks.
“Fuck me! How did you trick her into that?” he asked Marcus, grinning like crazy.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Marcus said. “No tricks her.”
“A likely story. Anyway, you two enjoy these.”
We took our burgers.
"Thanks, Brett," Marcus said, taking a bite with relish. His relaxed stance mirrored mine, the warmth between us palpable even among the bustling crowd.
"You're doing a great job here," I added, feeling genuine admiration. Brett had a bit of a reputation for being a bad boy. A player. But right now, he was nothing but earnest and kind.
"Just keeping busy," Brett chuckled, modesty lining his words. "Besides, it beats sitting at home, right?"
"Yeah, for sure," I agreed, savoring the tender meat. "So, any wild firefighter stories you want to share?"
"Where do I start?" Brett replied, launching into tales of daring rescues and comical mishaps. His steady voice painted vivid pictures, each story more engaging than the last.
As Brett spoke, I watched the interplay between him and Marcus. Their bond was evident, underscored by shared glances and easy laughter. It made me yearn for that sense of family, one I'd glimpsed only fleetingly since returning to Small Falls.
"Sounds like you're living quite the adventure," I said, genuinely impressed. Brett's tales were filled with heart and humor, making me feel unexpectedly at ease.
"Every day is different," Brett smiled, his sincerity shining through. "But it's not just about the action. It's the people you meet along the way."
"Like tonight," Marcus chimed in, glancing my way with a soft smile that melted something inside me.
"Exactly," Brett nodded, his gaze shifting between us. "Anyway, how about you, Lucy? How's life treating you back in town?"
"Well, it's been . . . interesting," I admitted, choosing my words carefully. "Lots of memories, lots of changes."
"Small Falls has a way of getting under your skin," Brett noted, his tone understanding. "Welcome or not."
"True," I said, thinking of the echoes of my past that lingered in every corner. But being here, with Marcus and Brett, felt different. It felt right.
"Glad you're part of the crew now," Brett announced, clapping Marcus on the back. "And you too, Lucy."
"Thanks," I murmured, feeling the weight of those simple words. They meant more than Brett could know.
"Alright, enough chit-chat," Brett declared, turning back to his grill. "You two go enjoy the rest of the night."
"Will do," Marcus promised, nudging me gently as we moved away.
Walking beside Marcus, the plush bear still nestled in my arms, I sensed the world shifting.
The carnival lights blinked overhead, painting the night with splashes of color. Marcus and I strolled away from Brett's stall, his laughter still ringing in my ears. The air buzzed with energy, alive with the chatter of families and the distant hum of rides.
"Hey," Marcus said, nudging my shoulder gently. "You up for a ride on the Ferris wheel? The view's supposed to be amazing at night."
"Sure," I replied, feeling a thrill at the thought. "Let's do it."
We made our way through the crowd, weaving past children clutching cotton candy and couples sharing quiet moments. My heart raced with every step, anticipation thrumming beneath my skin.
As we reached the Ferris wheel, the carriage door swung open invitingly. We settled inside, the seat swaying slightly as the ride attendant locked us in. The metal bar felt cool under my hand, grounding me as the wheel began its ascent.
"Look at that," Marcus murmured as the fairground spread out below us. Lights twinkled like stars, a sea of colors stretching into the horizon. It was breathtaking, a scene pulled straight from a dream.
"Wow," I breathed, unable to tear my gaze away. The town lay beneath us, each building and street illuminated in soft hues. It felt like we were suspended above a world all our own.
At the peak, the Ferris wheel paused. The air held a hushed expectancy, as if waiting for something magical to unfold. And then—fireworks erupted in the sky.
Colors exploded, painting our faces in brilliant reds and blues. I gasped, caught off guard by the beauty of it all. My eyes darted to Marcus, who watched me with a soft expression that made my heart flutter.
"I'm glad we decided to come tonight," he said, his voice sincere, cutting through the noise.
"Me too," I whispered, meeting his gaze. In that moment, everything else faded away. The carnival, the noise, the world—it all slipped into the background.
His lips brushed mine, tentative at first, then deepening into a kiss that stole my breath. It was tender, lingering, full of unspoken promises. His warmth enveloped me, chasing away the chill of the night air.
When we finally pulled apart, the fireworks had receded, leaving only the steady glow of the carnival lights below. I leaned against him, content in the silence that wrapped around us.
"That was something," I said softly, savoring the memory.
"Yeah," Marcus agreed, his arm slipping around my shoulders. "It really was. And baby girl, I’m so glad you’re a Little."
For some reason, those words stuck in my mind.