Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
brOOKS
“I’ll be in later to help,” I inform my wife. We’re both leaving the house for the day. Her restaurant reopens tomorrow, and she’s buried with work today. I want to help, to do the heavy lifting. I know a crew will be there all day with her, but that’s not good enough.
Okay, fine. I just want to be with her.
“If you can’t get away, it’s fine,” she reminds me, and waits for me to lock the door before walking with me to the truck. I’ll drop her off on my way to the garage. “I have a ton of help.”
“And you’ll have me. How are you feeling this morning, Wildfire?”
I glance over as I turn the corner and see her wince. She was adorably hammered when I picked her up last night, and the sex was fucking fun. By the time we lay down to go to sleep, she was mostly sober, exhausted, and it was well past midnight.
“A little hung over, but I’ve had worse. Wait, no, I haven’t.”
I snort at that, and she smiles.
“I took something, and I’ll hydrate all day. It’s fine.”
Bringing her hand up to my lips, I press kisses over her knuckles. “I’m just glad you had fun.”
“I did.” She’s looking at her phone, and her hand tenses in mine. “Well, fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She emailed me. Again. This is the sixth time this week.”
“We have an appointment with Chad next week,” I remind her, and she nods, nibbling her lower lip. “Ignore her, and we’ll figure it out.”
“She’s going crazy because I changed my number,” she murmurs as she closes out of the email. “And frankly, I don’t care.”
“Good girl.” I pull up to her restaurant, and before she can climb out of the truck, I lean over, cup her chin, and brush my lips over hers. “Drink lots of water.”
“Yes, sir.”
My cock fucking twitches.
“I love your smart mouth.” I bite that lower lip, making her grin, and then she’s off. She waves at me before unlocking her front door, and once I see that she’s safely inside, turning on lights, I pull away and drive down to the garage.
Gabe’s already here, which isn’t unusual. He prefers to work earlier in the day so he can get home earlier with his family. These hours work for me, too. I don’t care if he comes here in the middle of the night, as long as the work gets done.
Mitch pulls in just as I do and looks like his grumpy-ass self.
“My wife isn’t feeling well today.” He shakes his head. “So if she calls and needs me—”
“You’ll go home to her.” I clap him on the shoulder. “It’s no problem, Mitch.”
“I’m sick of her being sick.” He sighs. “For her sake. It’s horrible watching her … well, it’s horrible. I’d gladly switch places with her.”
I can’t even imagine. Mitch’s wife was diagnosed about six months ago with breast cancer and has been fighting her way through treatment. The prognosis is good, but getting well is a battle that I don’t wish on anyone.
“If she needs you, just go home, buddy. Gabe and I can handle this.”
“What am I, chopped liver?”
I glance over in surprise as Jake Wild saunters in, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, a smug smirk on his face.
“I’m here for a few days, thought I’d come in and log some hours, if you need the help.”
“I think we always need the help,” Gabe calls out from under the hood of a Chevy.
“You’re not between semesters, are you?” Jake goes to college in Bozeman.
“I wish. No, just didn’t have classes for a few days this week, thought I’d come home. Get some decent food, see the horses, tinker in an engine.”
“Tinker away, kid.” I laugh and nudge his shoulder with mine. Jake’s a tall guy. “How’s the girlfriend?”
“Fucking gorgeous, man.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Now, what do you need me to do?”
The morning moves fairly smoothly. Not many interruptions, the music’s playing, the guys and I are quiet, doing our own thing.
The perfect morning at the shop.
Then just before lunch, Mitch’s phone rings, and when I glance over, his eyes meet mine, and I know.
He needs to go.
I can’t hear what he’s saying into the phone, but he hangs his head and rubs his hand over the back of his neck.
When he hangs up, he crosses over to me.
“Go,” I tell him before he can say anything.
“I’m in the middle of this oil change, and then I have—”
“I know what you have.” I signal for Jake to join us. “Show Jake the oil change, and he’ll finish it up, and then we’ll figure out the rest.”
“I’m sorry, Brooks—”
“She’s your wife,” I remind him, and he swallows hard. “Go take care of her.”
“I’ve got this,” Jake says, his usual playful smirk long gone. “No problem, man. Glad to help.”
Mitch nods, then gestures for Jake to follow him so he can get the kid—who isn’t so much a kid anymore—caught up on what he’s doing.
And that’s just the start of the shit show that today ends up being.
The motor failed in my air compressor, and I have to wait a day for the repairman to come take care of it.
It took me three times longer than it should have to access a goddamn fuel filter in a Suburban and ate up more than two hours of my time.
I had three emergencies brought in, and by emergencies, I mean the owner practically begged me to get their job done next, no matter the cost.
Yeah, that’s not going to happen.
It’s just a colossal dumpster fire of a day, and when I have two minutes to check the time, my frustration level is at a ten when I see that it’s well past six in the evening. Gabe and Jake are long gone for the day, and I’m here alone.
I was never able to get away and help my wife with her restaurant. I still have several hours of work to do here tonight.
Picking up my phone, I notice that I missed a few texts from her.
Wildfire: I hope you’re having a good day! All is well over here, just miss you.
Fuck, she’s sweet.
Wildfire: Things are going faster than I expected. Should be done by around six. Want me to bring you dinner?
Shit, that was an hour ago. I wash my hands and am about to start typing a response when the door opens, and my girl walks in, holding a bag of food, very much like that night a few weeks ago.
Fuck, I want her.
Her eyes scan the garage, and then she smiles when she sees me.
“You’ve always loved John Mellencamp,” she says, pointing up, as if the speaker is just above her head. “I brought you dinner. I made some—”
“Put the bag down, Juliet.”
Her blue eyes widen, and she licks her lower lip as she walks to the counter and sets the bag of food—that smells fucking incredible—aside.
“Take your clothes off.”
Her eyebrows climb in surprise.
“You want me to—”
“I won’t tell you twice.”
I’m wound the fuck up. Seeing her here, with all of those blond curls gathered in a bun on her head, in little denim shorts and a blue T-shirt that matches her eyes, has my blood simmering. She’s so fucking beautiful, and she’s all fucking mine.
Jules tilts her head to the side as I finish drying my hands, and she reaches for the hem of her shirt, tugs it over her head, and tosses it onto the clean counter.
I lean back on the car I’ve been working on, cross my arms over my chest, and watch.
She starts to walk toward me, but I shake my head, and she stops.
“I didn’t say you could do that.”
Her pupils blow wide. Juliet loves it when I dominate her. When I’m in control. She responds to me so beautifully, so fucking perfectly, it’s all I can do to stand here and not lift her against the wall and pound into her until neither of us knows our own name.
“You’re—”
“Take off your fucking clothes, wife.”
She fights the smile that wants to spread over her pillowy lips, unfastens her shorts, and lets them fall, stepping out of them and setting them with her shirt.
When her hands fall to her sides, I brush my finger over my lower lip and wait.
“Do you need me to finish the job for you, Wildfire?”
She swallows thickly, so fucking turned on her panties have to be soaked for me. Reaching behind her back, she unfastens her bra, and when she’s left in her pretty pink panties, I push off the vehicle and slowly walk to her, like I’m an animal stalking its prey.
“Brooks.” It’s a whisper and makes my already hard-as-fuck cock ache.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
Taking her face in my hands, I lean down to brush my lips over hers and breathe her in.
“I am now. I’m going to fuck you, right here, just like last time.” Her little gasp and the way her nipples are rock hard tell me that she doesn’t hate that idea. “I’m going to feast on this pretty pussy.”
My hand glides down her stomach, under her panties, and when I cup her and feel how sopping wet she is for me, I groan.
“Fuck, Wildfire.”
“You’re the sexiest man,” she says with a sigh, her hands diving into my hair as I slide a finger inside her. “You can do whatever you want to me. I’m yours.”
“Fuck yes, you are.”
I turn her away from me.
“Hands on the counter.”
She follows directions so damn well, and pushes her ass out, inviting everything that I’m about to give her.
Hooking my fingers under the elastic at her hips, I lower the pink panties, help her step out of them, and then stuff them in my pocket.
“These are mine now.”
“Stop stealing—”
I smack her perfect peach of an ass, making her gasp as I squat behind her. Her pussy is fucking dripping, her juices running down her inner thighs, and I lick her soft skin.
“Fucking delicious. Widen your legs.”
She follows the order, and I spread her open with my thumbs.
“Goddamn, this pussy is perfect.” I lick her, from clit to ass to clit, and her head falls forward as she moans, pushing back against my face, and I fucking love it.
I press my thumb against her clit and my tongue inside her, and she starts to shake, her thighs quivering, making my blood run even hotter.
“Oh God,” she moans. “Brooks, I’m gonna come. Oh, fucking hell.”
My thumb makes a little circle over her hard nub, and her walls tighten as I fuck her with my tongue, and when she comes, I lap those juices up, feasting on what’s mine.
“Good girl.” I bite her ass and then smooth it over with a kiss as I stand behind her, unfastening my belt and then my jeans, and unleash my cock. “It was a shit day until you walked in here, looking like sex on a goddamn stick.”
“I look awful.” I slap my cock on her ass, and she whimpers.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With my hand fisted around the base, I rub the crown through her sopping-wet slit. “So fucking everything. You make everything better.”
“Please.” She pushes back against me. “Please, baby.”
“What do you need? Use your words.”
“You. Inside me. Ple—fuck.”
I push all the way in, my hips hitting her ass, and I pause here, reveling in how perfectly she fits me. I lean over, press my forehead against her shoulder, then bite her there.
“God, yes,” she whispers. “I’m bringing dinner every day.”
I grin against her shoulder blade, and then I can’t hold back anymore. Gripping her hips, I start to pound in and out of her. I’m not gentle. I’m not tender.
I’m fucking feral.
She reaches back for me, and I spank her ass, making it pink.
“I didn’t say you could touch me.”
“Brooks.”
“Grab the fucking counter, or you don’t get to come again.”
She sighs, my sassy little wildfire, but does as she’s told, and I reward her with my thumb over her asshole.
“Fuuuuck,” she moans.
“I haven’t taken you here yet,” I murmur as I watch that little hole pucker under my thumb. “But I will.”
She tightens around me, making me almost lose control.
“Oh, you like that, you greedy girl.” I smack her other ass cheek, and she looks over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are wide and glassy with lust and need. Her lower lip is swollen from biting it. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Her eyes soften, and her pussy squeezes around me, and then her jaw drops. I can see it written all over her gorgeous face.
“Come for me, baby. Make a fucking mess out of my cock. God, you were made for me—”
She cries out, her body convulsing as she succumbs to the climax, and fuck if she doesn’t milk my own out of me.
I come inside her, and then pull out, fist my cock, and come on her back.
Marking her.
Fucking mine.
We’re panting, sweaty, and my girl is a complete, glorious mess.
I fucking love it.
“Stay.” I kiss her shoulder, then cross to the bathroom to wet a towel.
I wipe myself off, tuck myself away, and then, with a fresh towel, I cross back to her and get to work cleaning up my mess.
When I’ve finished, I help her back into her clothes, sans panties, then tug her to me, tuck her under my chin, and hold her tight.
“This is how it was supposed to go before. No running away from me. No being angry.”
“We’ve come a long way.” She presses her sweet lips to my chest and tips her chin up to smile at me. “Better?”
“I’m fine, baby.”
“What’s wrong? You’re on edge. Did something happen?”
Yeah, my girl knows me.
“It was just a shitty day. One thing after another. And I couldn’t get away to come over and help you get ready for tomorrow.”
“I’m fine.” She rubs a circle over my heart. “We got everything finished and ready to go. I even managed to prep a bunch of stuff, and I’m ready to bake at five in the morning.”
“Fuck, that’s early.”
She smiles and nuzzles into me again. “Sometimes if I’m not able to prep the dough the day before, I have to go in at three.”
“You won’t go in alone at that time of the night.”
She frowns up at me. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“I said what I said.”
“You’re bossy.”
“You knew that when you married me.” I kiss her forehead and then her nose. “Did you bring enough food for two?”
“Yeah, I thought I’d eat with you. Do you still have a lot of work to do?”
I sigh and reach for the bag, pull out two to-go containers, and take a deep breath.
“Yeah, I have to stay for a while yet. Is this pasta?”
“Yes, but it’s better when it’s warm.”
I laugh and open one, put a fork in it, and pass it to my girl before grabbing my own.
“I’ll eat cold pasta any time if it means I get to fuck you into oblivion first.”
Her cheeks heat at that.
“You’re fucking adorable, Jules. You know that, right?”
“I’m not adorable. I’m a mess. I can’t believe you—”
She shakes her head, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Finish that thought.”
“No.”
With raised eyebrows, I set my food aside, take her chin in my fingers, and make her look at me.
“Yes.”
She sighs. “I can’t believe you went down on me. I worked all day. I haven’t had a shower, Brooks.”
Leaning in, I brush my lips over hers, then along her jaw and to her ear. “I don’t care, Juliet. You could run a marathon and roll in mud, and I’d still eat you like a man starving for his next meal.”
“That’s … gross.”
“Never.” I nip her earlobe. “Now, eat.”