Read Online The Firefighter and the Virgin Princess by Jemma Harte - Free Book Online

the
empty condom packets that littered the bedside cabinet, she was
going to be sore tomorrow, even if she didn't feel it yet
today.
    She'd chosen him to be her first. That must
mean he was special— hopefully in a good way.
    He was feeling strangely contemplative. When
his phone buzzed with a text and it was Mike wanting to know where
he was, he didn't feel like answering yet. Joe wanted some time to
think about where he was and what just happened, without sharing
any of it with his big brother.
    Mike often disapproved of his choices. He
would certainly say Joe made a mistake getting involved with a girl
like that. Especially taking her to a hotel room and fucking her
brains out on their first date— which she insisted wasn't even a
date. He didn't have her number or know where she lived.
    You did
what ? He could hear his brother already.
But Mike never did anything remotely reckless. He'd married his
high school sweetheart, didn't ever seem to be restless or looking
for something more; he did everything by the book. Mike was solid,
responsible. And he could be a real fucking pain in the ass when it
came to his little brother's love life. Part of the problem was
Mike's wife, Sherri. Sherri was always in his ear, telling him that
someone had to sort Joe out; someone had to find Joe a wife to keep
him on the right track. Really, Sherri just wanted an ally in the
battle against her mother-in-law, and she wanted to make sure it
was someone who would be on her side.
    But Sherri and Mike's idea of a suitable
girlfriend for Joe didn't quite match up with his. He wasn't about
to settle for something comfortable and expected. He didn't want
routine. That was why he enjoyed his job, despite the horrors he
sometimes witnessed. When he went on shift, he never knew what was
going to happen. It kept his blood hot and lively. He was never
bored. Knowing that he might save a life that day, made him happy
to leap out of bed even when it was frigid cold and pitch black
outside. Made him whistle in the shower, even if the water-heater
was broken.
    He wanted a woman that made him feel the
same way and he was pretty sure he'd just found her.
     
    * * * *
     
    Joe went to his mother's house for the
traditional Sunday dinner and was soon absorbed in the noisy bosom
of his family.
    "Where were you today?" Mike demanded. "I
thought you were gonna come help me work on the Mustang."
    Mike had bought the rusted out lump of junk
several weeks ago— despite his wife's disapproval— and he spent
most Sunday mornings, when he wasn't on shift, in his garage
"working on the Mustang". Joe suspected his brother just needed an
excuse to escape the house for a few hours at the weekend.
    "Yeah. Something came
up." My dick , he
mused.
    His brother studied his face. "You
okay?"
    "Yeah, why?"
    "I don't know. You seem quiet."
    He shrugged, "Maybe I got the flu."
    Mike passed him a beer. "Suck that down to
chase the germs away."
    The usual questions about his dating life
came up at the table. His mother wanted to know when he would find
a nice girl and settle down.
    "Ma, I'm never gonna find a girl who can
cook like you, so why bother?" he replied with a grin.
    "Because I won't live forever, Joey. You'll
have to learn to cook for yourself, like your brother."
    Down the table Sherri scowled, because she
didn't like being reminded that her husband was a better cook than
she was. Her mother-in-law, on the other hand, liked reminding her
of it. Mrs. Rossini was very proud of her sons and, in truth, no
girl would ever be good enough for them, but it didn't stop her
riding Joe's ass about his bachelor state.
    "I bet you got no food in your apartment,
eh?"
    "Ma, I got snacks at home. I do fine. I eat
good at the firehouse. And then I eat out."
    "That's expensive, Joey. You don't take care
of yourself." His mother reached over to grab his stomach, and then
made a gasp of disgust because she could not find a loose handful
of flesh to squeeze through his t-shirt. "What's