Chapter Fifteen
AJ
I’ve never slept so good, I swear. It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders that I didn’t know was there. The sun feels brighter, the air warmer. Hell, even the fucking eggs taste better, and I know that’s impossible.
Still, I can’t deny the truth, no matter how hard I try. Last night was…
Amazing.
Well, it was amazing after JJ left to go tell the guy he’s been seeing the truth.
I hope it works out for them, I really do. JJ deserves to be appreciated and loved out loud, not behind closed doors. When he told me about his younger friend, I couldn’t help but feel like I was looking in a mirror. Hearing how he tried to resist falling for the man… but fell anyway…
It was like a shock to my system.
I knew I needed to tell Nate the truth—not just about how I feel, but about what a relationship with me would entail. Because that’s what I want.
I don’t want a hookup or one night stand. I want more.
And then he fucking showed up at Reed’s, looking positively delicious in his jeans and long-sleeve shirt with that messy yet sexy windswept hair and evident five-o-clock shadow, and fuck me sideways, I was too far into my third round of drinks to give a shit about anything else.
And then somewhere between the game, the drinks, the walk home…
Something changed between Nate and I, like some Kinky Freaky Friday shit.
I wanted to kiss him, but…
I wanted him to kiss me more than anything.
I’ve often spoke in my demos about how submissives are the true dominant of a power dynamic, because they hold all the power in the dynamic itself because it is the submissive who controls the scene; the dom, the outcome.
But I never really understood those words until last night.
When I patiently waited for Nate to kiss me, instead of taking his kiss for myself.
I swear I can still feel the remnants of his kiss, lingering on my lips, even though it’s been hours.
Which is precisely how I ended up here, at the firehouse, where I slept.
Technically, I’m not supposed to be on until tonight, but it’s not exactly out of the ordinary for me to drop in like this.
And as long as I keep the guys' bellies full, they’re less likely to give me shit or ask questions. Well, everyone except JJ, of course.
Even though he hasn’t said shit, I feel his suspicious glares.
He side-eyed me all morning as I made pancakes, eggs, omelets, sausage gravy and biscuits, and I’m pretty sure the only reason he didn’t say something was because someone had to grab the delicious pastries that get dropped off here every day.
Still, I’m sure if there’s something he wants to say, he’ll say it, eventually.
But he hasn’t yet, so I’m taking the win.
I’m just cleaning up the kitchen from lunch when JJ calls my name. I look up from the table, glancing at the clock. It’s already going on three, and I can’t help but think about how long I’ve been up, but it’s like I’ve got this burst of energy that can’t be ignored.
“AJ!” JJ whistles, and I blink.
“What?” I snap.
“Someone’s looking for you downstairs.”
“Me?” I point to myself.
“That’s what I said.” JJ gripes as I let out a long breath.
JJ holds out his hand, motioning for my rag. “Go, I’ll finish up here.”
I toss him my rag.
“Don’t have to twist my fucking arm,” I say as I head out of the kitchen. It’s not often we get visitors, aside from girlfriends or wives once in a while. Kids are the most common, but they aren’t here all the time, just on occasion. Which is always nice.
Though usually the visits are for one of the other guys, not… me.
When I get down to the garage, I have to do a double take because I see Nate staring up at the ladder truck.
I stop, frozen as I take in the sight of him dressed in a long sleeve blue shirt and athletic fit jeans, those long legs and arms standing out as that brownish blonde hair falls in his face, a bit of a mess from the wind.
He looks positively angelic against the red shine of the truck, the bright fall sun behind him like the heavens opened up just for him.
But most of all, he looks timeless; full of promise and possibilities.
God, he’s so fucking perfect.
I clear my throat. “Fancy seeing you around these parts,” I joke.
I don’t miss the way his gaze flashes to mine, or the way he smiles when he sees me.
“I was… in the neighborhood,” he says carefully.
“Right,” I say with a grin, knowing how close he actually is to the firehouse.
That’s when I notice something in his arms.
My hoodie.
My eyes drift down to the way he holds it, almost clutching it to his body like a well-loved teddy bear.
“Whatcha got there?”
Nate blinks, clearing his throat as he tears his gaze from me.
A strange sort of warmth blossoms in my chest.
“Oh! Right, I keep meaning to return this, and last night, I ,uh… got a little distracted,” he says with a blush.
I smile. Fuck, I love when he does that.
“Well, I hope it was a good distraction.”
His cheeks redden a bit as he takes a step forward, offering me my hoodie, and I can’t help but feel he’s offering me more than just my hoodie.
I shrug. “Keep it. I’ve got others.”
I lean against the truck, noticing the way he looks it up and down with curiosity.
“Oh, no, I can’t. I—”
“Yes, you can,” I say, my voice rising an octave, remaining friendly, yet taking on a firmer tone; something between dominant and flirtatious. I lean in towards him. “Besides,” I start. “Looks better on you than it does on me.”
Nate smirks. “Somehow I doubt that. I’m pretty sure you’d look great in a paper bag.”
I nod in agreement. He’s not wrong.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working today?” I ask carefully.
“Actually,” his voice is low, seductive almost. “I had to stop by the insurance place to sign off on some stuff, so I took it off. Then figured while I was there, I’d just—”
“Walk across the street to get your steps in?” I taunt.
Nate scowls, and that familiar brat I’ve come to know peeks its head from beneath the curtains. JJ’s footsteps sound as he walks across the floor, and I tense, standing up straighter as he shoots me a knowing glare as he approaches us.
“Guys and I are going to grab some subs from the diner. You want anything?” he says, and I swear if he wasn’t one of the best firefighters and my best friend, I’d kill him.
Nate’s cheeks pinken and his pupils dilate, and I feel a sharp sting of possessiveness as I grunt out, “No, thanks,” and move closer to Nate.
“What about you… Nate, is it?”
I freeze, unable to tear my gaze from the train wreck happening before my eyes. Nate nods. “Yeah, uh… thanks, but no thanks.”
JJ nods. “Guys are playing cards upstairs. I should be back in about fifteen minutes,” he says pointedly, and I let out a low breath as he pats me on the shoulder and then leaves me and Nate alone in the garage. A grin spreads on my face as I get an idea.
“You want the truck tour?”
Nate looks at me with a humorous grin.
“Is that a… metaphor?” He raises an eyebrow.
I blink. “Um… no.”
Nate lets out a nervous laugh. “Guess you don’t know the song.”
“Song?”
“Nevermind,” Nate says, running a hand through his hair as he darts his gaze away, back to the firetruck, but I don’t miss the way his cheeks keep turning deeper shades of scarlet.
“You do that a lot,” I murmur, moving a little closer to him.
“Do what?” He turns, flashing those big eyes up at me, eyelashes long and thick, framing his oceanic eyes.
I carefully reach out and pinch one cheek lightly, and he lets out a surprised squeak.
“Blush like a little schoolgirl.”
I expect him to get all bratty like he did when I called him my passenger princess, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stands perfectly still as I pinch his cheek.
“Sorry,” he says, his voice cracking just slightly.
“Don’t be sorry.” I let my thumb slide down his smooth cheek, brushing over the edge of his jaw; feeling the roughness of his stubble. It’s an odd sensation. In my contracts and agreements, most of my subs agree to keep themselves clean-shaven.
I have a type. A preference. The appearance that my sub dons for me is part of those negotiations and discussions that are needed before we even step foot into a scene.
But there is something strangely attractive about the way his stubble feels against the pad of my thumb.
How his skin goes from smooth to rough. I trace slow lines along it, relishing the touch and he doesn’t move to push me away.
Not like he probably should. Especially if he knew the thoughts running through my brain right now.
But his gaze is heavy, intense in a way I’ve never seen or felt from anyone.
Nate’s lips part slowly, and I have half a mind to slide my thumb back into his mouth just to see what he’ll do.
Just to see what he’ll let me get away with.
Because I’m starting to think my little Bright Eyes likes the idea of getting caught.
I didn’t pick up on it that first night back at my house because he was drunk, and I attributed his behavior to the alcohol and whatever might have been going on before I found him.
But it’s starting to look like a pattern.
My bed. My bathroom. My truck, at least twice. Last night, in the bar.
I look at him, at his big blue-green eyes, lips parted, and I realize he’s waiting for me to take the lead, which makes me feel a little more at ease.
I know how to lead. It’s what I’m good at.
“I think it’s kind of cute,” I say, lightly tapping his cheek. I’d rather smack him and watch his skin pink up, but I know this isn’t about me.
It never is, but I’ve always reasoned that was better. Easier.
But nothing about what I feel for Nate is easy. Even now.
“You do?” His voice is almost innocent, but not quite. It’s a bit more melancholic than it should be. It’s not a question, so much as a need for praise. And judging by the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, it’s not an act.
“Yes,” I answer him definitively. “I think you’re very cute when the blood rushes to your cheeks because you get all fucking flustered.”