There's Warmth: A Friends to Lovers Romance (Where There's Smoak Book 1) Page 3

  “Yeah,” she sniffs again, “Sorry about that.”

  Sorry?

  “You have nothing to be sorry for Brooke. This job shakes everyone up at one point or another. Except for me of course but… well that’s because I’m the whole package.” I try to joke and flash her a grin to make her smile. Please just smile again.

  And as if I commanded it with my thoughts, her eyes brighten slightly and she offers a small smile.

  “Yeah, Conner. I know,” she murmurs in her patronizing tone that I recognize immediately. Yeah, she’s okay.

  ****

  Brooke

  Conner helps me into the firehouse and out of my turnout gear. I could walk just fine but he insists on treating me like some fragile piece of clay art that is going to crumble apart at any second. And after my dramatic debacle out front, I guess I can’t blame him. He sits me down gently on a chair before going to join Gabe upstairs.

  I can’t believe I just had a meltdown like that in front of him. What the hell is wrong with me? Who randomly breaks down like that out of nowhere? He probably thinks I’m losing my damn mind. I’m not even certain that I’m not. I thought I could do this forever. I thought I could play the role of his best friend and could be happy doing it because I know it makes him happy and it keeps my heart safe. Now, I’m not so sure.

  He no longer only torments me during the day but now his perfectly sculpted body is invading my dreams. And it’s grown worse as of late. I’m such an idiot! Why do I do this to myself? I put my face in my hands. Frustrated with myself. Conner and Gabe return. Gabe’s carrying his large first aid kit and Conner stands behind him with his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest.

  “Welp, let’s take a look.” Gabe finally says kneeling in front of me. “Can you move it?”

  “Yeah,” I respond, moving my foot in a circular motion. He presses and pokes all over my ankle, down my foot, and up my leg.

  “Any of that hurt?”

  “Just a little tender there.” I wince as he presses against the front of my ankle where the beam had it pinned to the ground.

  “Welp, it’s bruised and you’ll probably be sore for a day or so but it doesn’t look like anything is broken. I think you’ll be alright.”

  I already knew this. Conner was the one who insisted Gabe come and check it anyway. There was no point in arguing with him when he was worried. He could be so hard-headed. It was easier at the time just to give in.

  “So I’m gonna survive, Doc?” I joke, giving Conner an I-told-you-so glare.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he calls me out, “you’re lucky Gabe didn’t have to amputate it. Then you’d have to quit firefighting and get a job at IHOP.”

  I laugh, shaking my head at his joke, “You’re so stupid.”

  “Seriously though, Gabe. Will she be able to walk and chew gum at the same time again?”

  “I didn’t know she could do that before?” They both tease me.

  “Whatever assholes,” I smile in response. I guess everyone knows about my struggles with coordination.

  I start to get my socks and shoes back on while Gabe and Conner continue talking. As they do, I just sit and watch. Conner still stood before me, his arms still crossed, pushing his biceps up and making them look even bigger than they already are. He shifts his weight from foot to foot the way he does when he gets anxious and is just ready to leave. Before long he stretches his arms over his head exposing a beautifully sculpted happy trail, the centerpiece to his unnaturally well-toned six-pack, heading downward into his pants. His pants hang off of his hips slightly below his boxers, displaying just an inch or two of a wonderfully crafted ‘V’ shape between his hips. Why do you have to be so damn sexy? Why?!

  “You about ready then?” he says, exhaling a deep breath.

  “Yeah,” I respond quickly.

  “You just want to stay at my place tonight? I’d feel better if I could at least keep an eye on you overnight.”

  Please don’t do this to me.

  “Overnight? You realize it’s practically daylight now?” I argue.

  “It might not be a bad idea, Brooke.” Gabe intervenes and I shoot him a quick damn-you-Gabe look.

  “Really you guys, I’m fine. I just need to go home and get some sleep and so do the two of you. It’s been a long night.” Not to mention, I need some space to sort my shit out. Especially after that meltdown. I need a break from Conner. The temptation is becoming more difficult to fight off the more time I spend with him.

  ****

  Conner pulls into a parking spot outside of my house and turns off the ignition.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. My heart starts pounding immediately.

  “I told you I would feel better if I could keep an eye on you overnight,” he says, grabbing a to-go bag from his back seat. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “Conner, I really don’t need you to stay.” His concern is endearing, but I can’t think straight if he’s here. And I clearly have a lot to sort out.

  “Well, I’ve already told you. I’m not staying for you. I’m staying for me, for my peace of mind. Now stop your damn arguing you stubborn woman and get your ass in the house.”

  Before I can argue more he is already halfway to my door. Damn it. We get inside and he sits his bag down in the living room.

  I walk past him and murmur, “I’m going upstairs to grab a shower. Did you want to get in?” His eyes dart to mine and a devilish grin curls on his lips. I feel my face flush,

  “I wasn’t inviting you to get one with me, you idiot.” I mean I would love to get a shower with you, but...no. No! No! Stop it, Brooke. “I meant, did you want to grab a shower before I got in?” I rephrase my question.

  “Nah, I’m fine.” he laughs to himself. “I’ll grab one when you get out. Or maybe I’ll sneak in once you’re already in,” he smirks at me again.

  The entire lower half of my body clenches in response. Oh fuck, Conner. Now is NOT the time for your games. I’m already on edge.

  “I’m locking the door!” I holler behind me as I head up the stairs. I can hear him laughing at himself. Grabbing a towel from the closet, I walk into the bathroom, close the door, and pause for a moment. What if he actually did come up to join me? I feel a tingle run down my body. Releasing the knob, I leave the door unlocked.

  I turn the water on, undress, and step inside, allowing the water to run over my head and down my body. I grab some soap and start to lather it in my hands before rubbing them against me to wash the smell of smoke and fire from my skin. I can’t stop thinking about Conner’s offer to join me and my body clenches in agreement with my mind. I allow myself to imagine what it would be like if he were here with me now.

  Gently I rub my hand across my breast, circling and squeezing my nipple as I imagine his mouth wrapped tightly around it. The sensation sends chills throughout my body and my vagina starts to throb with want. My breathing accelerates and I slide my hand down my stomach, picturing Conner’s face dropping before me, getting ready to finish what he had started in my dream. Continuing my descent, my fingers quickly find my clit and I circle it slowly, then slip a finger inside and out again and repeat the motion.

  I envision it’s Conner’s strong hands doing the work, moaning at the mere thought. Suddenly, my mind changes course. I want to feel his dick inside me, not just his hands. I remove one finger then add two more before thrusting them back inside. It’s soft and warm and tight. I know he would love it. I pick up speed, my adrenaline pumping to full blast at the thought of him fucking me like this.

  Returning to my clit I rub harder and faster, back and forth, the heat of the water is colliding with the chills that are being dispatched all over my body. I tilt my head back further in the water as I start to build. I squeeze my eyes closed so I can picture him vividly. His tongue licking and sucking on my pussy, lapping up the water running onto it. Him looking up at me with those big sexy, bedroom blues.

  I’m panting and my legs begin to tremble as I nea
r my climax, but I don’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. Not until he owned me. My body. All of me. Grabbing a palm-full of my breast with my free hand, I squeeze tightly so it’s almost painful. I cry out and continue circling my clit increasing the pressure and speed all at once as a feeling of ecstasy washes over me. Oh, Conner!! I scream in my head as I let go. I lean against the shower wall and slide to the floor. Fulfilled. Sated.

  ****

  Conner

  She’s been up there a while. Maybe I should go check on her. No, dude. That’s crossing a line….and weird. I can’t help but feel like I might have already crossed a line today. I can’t seem to shake the look she kept giving me. Not once. Not twice. But three times! The first time I saw it was in the fire. That makes sense, it was a look of terror and pleading. She should have been afraid. Hell, I was afraid.

  But the second time I recognized it was after I had gotten her out. She was safe, I was there with her. And yet, she still gave me almost the exact same look. She was terrified or almost sad. The last time was in the back of Gabe’s truck. Again, no immediate threat there, yet she still gave me that look and this last time it felt like it was a message directly for me. That look can somehow make me feel completely helpless and vulnerable. It is really unsettling.

  I can’t put my finger on what it is but something is just off about it. I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m missing something here. I mean we’ve been friends for long enough now, I think she’d tell me if something was bothering her. Wouldn’t she? Unless maybe I am what is bothering her? Nah, that doesn’t make sense either. I mean, she’s never had an issue with calling me on my bullshit before. I highly doubt she’d have a problem doing it now.

  I find myself pacing her living room floor, racking my brain trying to figure it out until I hear the water turn off in the bathroom. She’s done. I grab my bag and start toward the bathroom. She opens the door and steps out, a towel wrapped tightly around her, beads of water still dripping from her hair. Her face flushes immediately. What is that about? I’ve never seen her embarrassed around me before? There are so many comments running through my mind right now.

  “Don’t worry,” I say, putting my hands in the air, “I only peeked half the time you were in there. Have you always had that birthmark on your left ass cheek?”

  Her eyes grow wide and her breath hitches. Wait. Was I right? Does she actually have a birthmark there? She smirks and slugs me hard in the shoulder before mumbling, “perv” as she prances past me. Her wet feet leave a trail of tiptoed prints down her hardwood floor hallway to her bedroom. I smile to myself with pride. That’s my girl.

  I grab a quick shower, dry off, and change into the clothes I had shoved in my to-go bag, which today happened to be a pair of jeans, boxers, and a t-shirt. Well, I’m not sleeping in jeans. I pull my shirt over my head and step into my boxers. I check the mirror and shake my hand through my hair to get rid of the residual water still left there. I walk to Brooke’s bedroom door and knock quietly before slowly opening it up.

  Even though the sun started to come up at least an hour ago, her room is dark. Her blinds are closed. The only light in the room is what I release from cracking the door. It draws a line of light from the doorway up to her face. She is fast asleep. Her hands tucked up underneath her pillow. Her blanket only keeps her partly covered and is revealing the t-shirt and panties she chose to wear to bed. Her hair is a mess of blonde curls scattered across her pillow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so beautiful. Peaceful. I smile to myself and I walk in quietly. I sit down on the edge of her bed and pull the covers up over her shoulders.

  I hava a sudden desire to curl up next to her. To wrap her in my arms and hold her while she sleeps. Where the hell did that come from? I shake my head and push the thought from my mind. Then I go back downstairs to find the couch already made up for me to sleep. She brought down two pillows and a blanket and left a bottle of water on her coffee table for me. Beside the bottle, I find a piece of paper torn from a notebook with something scribbled on it. I pick it up and read,

  Thanks for saving my life today. You’re the best!

  XoXo, Brooke

  I smile as I reread her note. You’re welcome, Babe. Anytime.

  Four

  Brooke

  I leave out a sleepy yawn as I stretch in my bed. My room is dark, but I can see sunlight illuminating the edges of my blinds. I stand and head to my window to open the blinds up. I wince after a step or two from my ankle still being sore and now a bit stiff too. I pull on the cord and my blinds fling upward, allowing the light of the day to shower in on my face. It feels so warm. Turning back to my bed, I pick up my phone from the nightstand and press the button on the side so I can view the screen. 12:03 PM. Oh geez. It’s after noon.

  I mosey to my dresser and pull out a pair of jeans. I slip them on, change into another t-shirt and head downstairs. I’m so hungry. Walking down the stairs, I hear Conner still snoring on the couch. He’s adorable. Turning from the landing on the stairs, I spot him on the couch and I freeze in place, unable to contain the enormous smile that has now spread across my face. My eyes grow to saucer size and I cover my mouth with my hand.

  He is laying there on my couch, his blanket on the floor beside him with his massive, raging, morning wood standing at full attention through the open slit in his boxers. I squeeze my eyes closed and bend over letting out a silent hysterical laugh. I look again. Three of my fingers certainly didn’t do it justice! It is so much bigger than I ever imagined! “Oh. My. God!” I mouth silently. Stop staring, Brooke! But I can’t stop. I can’t look away. I don’t know what to do. Do I wake him? Do I act like I didn’t see it? How the hell am I supposed to ignore THAT! Do I cover him up? Ah! I don’t know what to do!

  He suddenly starts to stir and I turn around quickly.

  “Oh my God! Conner! Your uhh...” I start saying loudly, flapping my hands as I try to find the right words.

  “What?” I hear him reply as he stretches.

  “Your dick, Conner! Your dick!” I yell, my face burns red.

  “Oh shit!” I hear him shout. Laughing behind me, he rustles around to cover himself. “I’m so sorry, Brooke!” he says, laughing loudly now.

  “Is that thing caged?” I ask, my back still turned to him.

  “Yeah,” he laughs. “You’re good.”

  I turn back around but I can’t bring myself to make eye contact. I can feel him looking at me, smiling as I quickly try to make my way through the living room and into the kitchen.

  “I told you! I’m the whole package, baby!” he yells to me as I briskly walk past him.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Well, now I know for sure!

  “Shut up!” I shout back at him, clearly more embarrassed than he is. Then again, why should he be embarrassed walking around with a hammer like that in his pants!? I make it to the kitchen and try to fan the heat from my face. I didn’t even realize how accelerated my breathing had gotten. I grab a glass from the cupboard and fill it with water then gulp it down.

  Moments later Conner comes strutting into the kitchen now wearing jeans, a small smile still etched on his face. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He rubs a hand through his hair, spiking it up all over. He’s adorable.

  “I really am sorry, Brooke.” A hint of humor lingers in his voice.

  “It’s okay.” I try to play it off like I’m not completely blown away by his manhood. “It really isn’t a big deal.” I emphasize the word ‘big’ to tease him.

  “Excuse me?” he responds. I think I just struck a nerve. “Are you trying to imply something about my dick size?”

  Typically, I prefer to ignore his playful banter, but right now I want to get under his skin a bit. He enjoyed seeing me embarrassed. Now, it’s his turn and I can’t resist messing with him or his ego.

  “No. No. Of course not,” I respond, shaking my head and pushing out my lower lip. After a moment's pause, I say, “Well, maybe I am implying a little something about it
.”

  His eyes narrow as he stares directly at me. I get the impression no woman has ever criticized his dick and I totally get why. I feel hot under his gaze but it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to laugh. He looks so sexy when he’s mad.

  “Now I’m curious what exactly that something is, Brooke?” he asks, accusation in his tone as he continues to glare at me, taking a step closer and bracing himself with one hand as he leans on the countertop beside me.

  I shrug casually, “Nothing, it’s just that, with as macho as you act all the time I thought for sure you could back it up.” I glance down at his crotch and back at him. “Now it just seems like all this time you’ve been trying to compensate for something. That’s all.” I turn away from him, trying again to contain my amusement, but this time I fail miserably.

  “Ohh..” he draws out his response. “So, so you think you’re funny, huh?”

  Another laugh escapes my lips.

  “Is it funny now?” he lunges at me and starts to tickle my sides and stomach.

  I let out a scream and laugh and tense my body in defense as his hands make their way around my core.

  “Still think it's funny?” he taunts, pinning me between him and the counter as he continues his tickle attack.

  “Okay. Okay! I’m sorry!” I yell, hoping for relief.

  He stops tickling, but his hands stay on my hips. Our laughs grow quiet as we stare at each other. Our faces are only inches apart. My eyes flicker to his lips and I watch as they part slightly. Is he going to kiss me? I can feel my heart throbbing in my chest. Suddenly, the atmosphere is tense. The sexual tension is weighing heavily on my shoulders. I want him to kiss me. We stand there for a moment looking back and forth into each other’s eyes. Please, Conner. Just when I think he is about to lean in, I hear his phone vibrate in his pocket and he releases my hips, steps back and lets out a ragged breath, and rubs the side of his neck with one hand. Now he looks embarrassed.