Men of Station 23 [Uniform Fetish 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (2 page)

“Me?” She felt honored to be given an assignment other than sitting behind her desk correcting comma splices and run-on sentences. An advance in her career could be the catalyst to bigger and better things in her personal life. Her daily routine was dragging her down lately, and a real assignment promised new challenges and rewards.

“You’ve proved yourself an asset since you started. I know I can trust you to handle this with the utmost professionalism.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you for the chance.”

He stood up and adjusted his tie. “I’ll have all the particulars to you by the end of the day.”

Mr. Templeton strolled back down the hall. He wasn’t all bad, and he never lost his temper. His wife was the motherly type and often visited the office with freshly baked goodies. Not the best thing for Tammy’s expanding waistline, but she appreciated the gesture from the older woman.

By the time her boss returned to her desk a few minutes before five, her ass was numb and her vision was fuzzy from doing copy edits for hours. “As promised.” He set the file folder on her desk, a smile brightening his tired face. “You can get started tomorrow. Consider your regular responsibilities gone for the next two weeks. I’ll get Stephanie and April to handle your editions.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t forget, this is a top priority.” He made the assignment feel life or death. Maybe it was where her career was concerned.

She didn’t even stop to peruse the file once he left. The clock struck five and she wanted to be as far as possible from the gray, soul-sucking building. Tammy grabbed her purse from under her desk and bolted for the glass doors. The sunshine she’d hoped for didn’t greet her. A light drizzle fell down as she walked to her car parked around back. She had laundry to do, bills to pay, and she had to hit the grocery store on the way home. The glamorous life of a newspaper editor at the
Heartland Tribute
.

As she drove the city streets, curiosity began to fester about her new assignment. She assumed it was some political nonsense, but what if it wasn’t? Perhaps it was something interesting, maybe requiring her to travel or learn something new and exciting. Did she have to fly to Paris for the weekend? Go undercover in the Playboy Mansion? Tammy chuckled to herself as she drove along. Since the file was in the trunk of her car, she’d have to postpone finding out.

Tammy hit the grocery store, standing in line for ten minutes just to buy her milk, coffee, and breakfast bars. Her feet were killing her from standing in her heels. When she got home she lugged a load of laundry down to the basement of her apartment building and then washed the few dishes in her sink left from the morning. By the time Tammy sat down and turned on her laptop to pay her bills online, she was exhausted. It wasn’t so much the physical strain. Her issues were deeper, a weariness of life itself. That’s when she finally remembered the file. She sifted through her purse for the package her boss had given her.

She had the main lights off in the living room, as she often did in the evenings. Tammy preferred the ambience of candlelight. It helped her reflect, to connect with her inner self.

Her computer monitor highlighted the kitchen table enough for her to read.
Holy hell!
Tammy leapt up to her feet, her chair falling back onto the parquet floor. She stared at the files spilled over her table, afraid to touch them, as if they’d spontaneously combust. Tammy wished they would. Her mother had always told her to be careful what she wished for. It had come to reality once already with her psycho ex-boyfriend. She’d dreamt of commitment and adoration from a man, but instead got a jealous, controlling asshole who turned her world upside down. Now this...

Tammy righted her chair and sat down, taking a breath. She reread the assignment five times before the reality sunk in. Was it too late to ask Mr. Templeton to give it to someone else in the office? No, she’d appear ungrateful and never be given the opportunity again.

She’d wished for one of those hard-bodied firefighters to grace her bed, a silly fantasy exaggerated by her walks in front of Station 23 with Steph. Now she was expected to do a fully detailed article on the new fire station, requested by the mayor and a top priority for the paper. She was required to give up her life for two weeks to live amongst these heroes of their city, get into their heads, experience their lives, and then write the article of her life.

But she’d already made a fool of herself by acting like a horny teenager, passing by their weight room on an almost-daily basis just to gawk. They’d surely recognize her when she showed up at their door for the assignment. It would be the most humiliating experience of her life. She couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it...had to do it.

Tammy no longer cared about her bills or her laundry which probably needed to go in the dryer. She slammed her laptop shut and paced her living room, occasionally glancing out her third-story window to the dark, wet streets below. The streetlights highlighted the steady fall of rain, so symbolic of her mood. If only she hadn’t gone for those walks with Steph. At least she’d have her dignity when she showed up at the station. But now she’d be a laughingstock, some middle-aged desperado trying to get an eyeful of the strapping young men responsible for protecting the city. They deserved respect, not to be treated like mindless sex objects.

There had to be something she could do. She pressed her forehead to the cool, humid glass of her window, watching the odd car splash through the desolate street. That’s when the idea struck her. Those firefighters had only seen her from a distance as she quickly walked by in the afternoons. If she altered her appearance just enough, maybe they wouldn’t recognize her. Tammy grabbed her car keys and purse and dashed out of her apartment.

Tammy was expected at Station 23 at 10:00 a.m. the next morning. The meeting was already scheduled on one of her files. As instructed, she had her bags packed in her trunk just in case they were serious about her living at the station temporarily. She glanced at her watch from the driver’s seat of her parked car. 9:55. She didn’t want to appear overly eager and show up early, but being fashionably late would look bad on the newspaper. If she knocked on the door at exactly 10:00 they’d think she was a neurotic freak.
Two more minutes.

She walked to the door of the office, her briefcase in hand, head held high. There was something to be said about a woman with confidence—even if she faked it. The reflective glass of the numerous bay doors cast an unfamiliar image back at her. It would take Tammy a while to get used to the deep wine red she’d dyed her hair last night. With her sunglasses on and makeup she normally didn’t wear, she was a different person. At least she prayed the firefighters didn’t recognize her. They’d only remember the mousy, brown-haired plain Jane.

After pressing the button on the door, she flinched. Rather than a doorbell chime, a loud, grinding buzzer echoed inside the station. A minute later the door was wrenched open. An older man with a big, white moustache frowned when he saw her.

“Can I help you?”

“My name’s Tammy Palmer. I have an appointment for 10:00 to prepare an interview for the
Heartland Tribute
.”

He didn’t answer her, just turned his head and yelled into the massive room. “Anywhere know anything about a Tammy Palmer doing some sort of interview?”

A deep voice replied, out of sight. “Oh, right. Send her on back.”

The strange man motioned her to enter and then relocked the heavy door she’d come through. Inside she could see six fire trucks lined up in the huge garage. The ceilings were high, the concrete floors a shiny gray. There was even a classic fire pole in the far corner. Tammy wondered if it was decorative or functional. She really did have a lot to learn.

She walked into the shop but stopped when the older man didn’t follow her. Rather, he disappeared in another direction. Was she expected to keep going? Follow the direction in which that deep voice resonated? Her shoes shouldn’t be too noisy on the hard floor. She’d been practical today, wearing low heels even though it would highlight her measly height of five foot three. It was the reason she usually wore high heels to work, especially when her best friend was five foot seven barefoot.

After a few tentative steps forward, her heels clicking despite her effort to creep along silently, she heard the voice again.

“Send her back!”

Well, since the old man was long gone, she rushed to the back room to hopefully start her interview. When she entered the lone open door, the calming sound of sports playing on a television and idle chatter brought her nerves down. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Inside the large room was a flat screen TV and several black leather sofas. It looked like a regular bachelor pad, not a place of business. Then she spotted one of
her
men. The one who’d often wink at her, enjoying her discomfort, leaned back on one of the sofas.
Please don’t recognize me.

“There you are,” said the dark-haired god who seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Frank send you back?”

“Um...”

He laughed. “Don’t mind Frank. He’s an old icon around here.” These were all
her
men, the ones she loved to sneak peeks at when they were on shift. Up close and personal they were so much taller and intimidating. She had to talk with them, engage in idle conversation when all she could think about was how incredible they’d look naked with just their firefighter helmets on. “My name’s Darius. You’re Tammy, right?”

She pushed aside her nerves and kept professional. “Yes, I was sent by the
Heartland Tribute
to research a full-section article about the men of the new Station 23.”

“You make us sound fancy. Promise it’s real simple around here. Not much to tell.”

Tammy pulled out her notepad from the side pouch of her briefcase, along with a pen. She had to keep her mind on business. “How many of you work here at any given time?”

“Well, there are four of us in residence per shift. Personally, we find it easier to go week by week, rather than day by day. This is our week. We’ll live here full-time and then get a week off. It works out well for us.”

Another man strolled over, a bottle of water in his hand. “This the girl from the paper?” he asked, resting his elbow on Darius’s shoulder. They were both the same height, massively built. Once side by side, they both stared at her with a look that was far from professional. She imagined the things they could be thinking and her pussy responded, clamping down on nothing, distracting her from her objective.

“Her name’s Tammy. She’s cute, ain’t she?”

The new guy dragged a hand through his mop of dirty-blond hair and gave her the once-over. His eyes were pure seduction. Tammy had always thought of firefighters as chaste, respectable men of honor. Not
real
men with the same needs as civilians. She’d mentally put them on a pedestal. They didn’t drink, smoke, curse, have tattoos, libidos, or lives outside of the public eye. God, was she ever disillusioned.

Darius shrugged off his friend and led her into the room with a hand to the small of her back. The simple touch registered strong for her, travelling all the way down to her toes. “Tammy, that was Aaron. Over there on the sofa, that’s Jake. And the fourth member of our team is around here somewhere.” He called out, “Conall?”

“What is it?” came a reply from above. There was another full level in the station which partially overlooked the main floor. Conall was the guy who could bench press a car. She vividly remembered drooling over his muscles when she’d walk by their gym. As soon as she saw his blond head peek out from the room above, her heart began to race. How would she keep her cool with her four fantasy men surrounding her, men with fire in their eyes? If only Steph knew about this. Tammy had been so shocked by the revelation she’d forgotten to call her friend. Maybe she’d see her pass by one day with one of the other girls from the office and they’d see Tammy inside. The thought almost made her chuckle as she imagined the look on Steph’s face.

“Come meet your new roommate!”

She addressed Darius, who appeared to be the one in charge until now. “Do they really expect me to stay overnight?”

“For two weeks, yes, ma’am. Normally, it’d be one week here and one at our place, but for the sake of the assignment we’re staying on shift for two weeks.”

“Your place?”

“The four of us live together outside of work as well. We bought a house together by the lake about nine years ago. All went to high school and the academy together, too.”

Aaron braced an arm on a support pillar, leaning towards her. “We do everything together.” His voice was low and gruff, his eyes challenging. She froze like a deer in the headlights, not sure how to respond. Did he really mean what she thought he meant? The thought of sharing a bed with four men should disgust a modern woman like Tammy. But it didn’t. Envisioning these virile men releasing their sexual frustration out on her body made her anxious and her pussy wet.

Darius mocked punched him. “Get the fuck out of here.” Aaron laughed, revealing a gorgeous white smile. She could feel the connection between the two men, the camaraderie. They were just playing around, regular, down-to-earth guys. Maybe this wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as she expected it to be as long as she could stifle her own wanton desires. Their playful banter lowered her guard and she was thankful Aaron wasn’t serious...or was she?

Conall came spiraling down the fire pole in the corner.
So it was functional.
He was a big guy with broad shoulders, reminding her of a Viking with his unkempt blond hair and strong features. “Welcome to Station 23,” he said in his deep baritone.

She smiled politely. “Thank you. So firefighters really do have a pole.” Tammy tried her best to fit in even though her heart was racing being surrounded by so much testosterone.