Brotherhood of Fire Read Free Page A

care in the world. The gut-lurching sensation left him wanting to make this real, now more than ever. Sucking in a deep breath, he adjusted his steelhard cock in his shorts and pulled himself together.
When he'd composed himself and came back around the corner, John had Carrie situated on top of a picnic table. Leaning back on her hands, she watched nervously while he knelt in front of her, massaging her rapidly bruising ankle. Garrett moved in next to her, watching the interaction between the two of them.
"Can you feel this?" John stroked her skin lightly.
"Yes" she murmured, looking like she'd like to pull her leg out of his grasp, her eyes wide. Garrett knew instinctively she had the very same fantasy he'd been pumping into her head running through her thoughts. A flash of momentary guilt riddled him. If he didn't know her discomfort meant she had the same thought he did, seeing John in that role, he'd feel like an ass for pushing her there.
"Okay, this is going to hurt a little. Tell me how much, on a scale of one to ten." John manipulated her ankle slightly back and forth.
"Shit!" She yelped, then slapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry! Forgot the kids. Ow . . . crap. Um . . . five."
"Sounded more like seven." Garrett grimaced. "She has a high pain tolerance."
"I can tell." John nodded, still holding her calf in his palms, face flushed, eyes intense. Garrett noticed his fingers continued stroking her even after he'd stopped checking her ankle.
"Probably would have brought tears to my eyes. She's got a lot of fluid in there. Broken blood vessel. Nothing crunchy, but you're going to be off it for a few days."
"But the games, the clean up, I have to—"
"No!" John said with Garrett at the same exact time.
"We got this. You are down for the count." Garrett glared down at her, putting a bit of force in his tone. "I mean it, you aren't moving. If you do, I'll make him sedate you."
"What? For an ankle, seriously, Garrett, he'd never—"
"Oh, I would." John smiled, his eyes a little mischievous. He'd shed the professional medic demeanor.
Garrett smiled, a smug sense of satisfaction settling over him. Seemed John was falling easily into the connection he had going with Carrie.
Carrie sputtered. Sighed. "Fine, I'll sit here and order you two big dummies around then. Whatever."
"Good girl." Garrett grinned. "Look, honey, now you have two big, strapping firefighters at your service, ready to do anything you tell us." He cocked an eyebrow at her and caught her flush. John shot him a curious look. Another hot jolt ran through his body that the idea wasn't seeming so farfetched and he had to shift again to keep his erection from being visible in his cargo shorts. His wife, his best friend. The two people in the world who meant everything to him. He couldn't help it, wanted it too damn bad to keep his thoughts to himself.
"I'm going to wrap this up for you. Sit still, I'll be back with the med kit."
John jogged off to his truck as Garrett eyed his wife.
"Don't even think about moving."
"I'm not!" She laughed nervously. "Would you wrap it for me?"
"Uh, no. He's the medic. I'd make you look like the mummy. Why? Does John touching you make you uncomfortable?"
The scowl on her face was her answer. He didn't need to hear the words, anyway; the way she sat watching John gently wrap her ankle in an ace bandage, put the ice pack on, wrap it again . . . she looked like a nervous cat. Every time he brushed her leg with his fingers, she jumped. For him, the whole thing stoked his imagination higher. Every time John spoke a soothing word to her, held her gently while he wrapped her ankle, Garrett's cock got that much harder.
When he finished, John moved away to re-pack the med kit. Carrie's scowl deepened.
Garrett couldn't help the smile that split his face, though it wasn't going to help him placate her anger any.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
John came back to check her ankle once more before Garrett managed to find out what she might have been thinking.