Men of Station 23 [Uniform Fetish 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (6 page)

“Jake said it was washing day today, so I dressed down. I hope that’s all right.”

The bastard said he hadn’t seen her. Why? He trusted Jake with his life but not much else. He was an enigma, never quite fitting in the way the rest of them did. There was something missing—a spark, an inner peace. Darius knew about Aaron losing his mom to a fire. It was the reason he was so nonchalant about love. He was afraid to invest in a woman and feel that familiar loss if the relationship were to crumble. But Jake? He had no clue what his story was because he never opened up enough to let anyone in, not even his three best friends.

“You look perfect. I’ll put you to work today, too.” He winked at her and she immediately lowered her gaze. Was she shy, or trying to repel him? It shouldn’t matter, but it did. He couldn’t get the curvy brunette off his mind.

The smell of fresh coffee was probably the lure which pulled the others to the kitchen. Jake, Conall, and Aaron drifted into the room within the next five minutes. He noticed how Conall immediately captured Tamara’s attention when he walked in with a towel around his neck, and no shirt. He was sweat glistened, his muscles pumped up from another heavy workout. They all had their therapy.

Darius’s nightly jogs around the neighborhood were a long-standing tradition. Last night was one of the first nights he hadn’t even remembered. Tamara was an excellent distraction. Normally, his jogs would help him vent his steam, frustrations, and pent-up energy. He’d turn on his iPod and leave the real world behind for an hour.

After they’d all finished their drinks, they moved to the large garage. Jake set up the hoses as Darius explained to Tamara what they usually did. He had to remind himself she was there to learn about their lives at the station, the good, the bad, and the not so pretty.

Aaron plunked a heavy bucket of sudsy water in front of their guest, a bit sloshing over the edge onto the dry concrete, and passed her a yellow sponge. “There you go, little lady. Have at it.” She looked dumbfounded for a moment.

“You can start by washing down the rims,” said Darius. “Just soap ’em down good and then we’ll bring out the hoses.”

She dragged her bucket over to the first wheel, squatted down, and went to work. He gave her credit for not stalling or complaining. From his experience, women balked at the thought of manual labor, but Tamara seemed quite comfortable getting down to business. He stood back to admire the way her ass filled out that denim. When he stopped staring long enough, he realized his three friends were beside him taking in the same view. He elbowed Aaron, who was closest. They began to scatter, going about their duties.

After about twenty minutes of scrubbing down the trucks, Tamara broke the silence. “You guys keep the trucks in excellent condition. It seems like a waste of water to even wash them.”

“Images are everything, darlin’,” said Aaron.

She stood up, dropping her sponge into the bucket. Her hair was slipping free of its bind, so she unleashed it long enough to twirl it into a makeshift bun. “It’s such a beautiful day out. Don’t you have any music or something? I always listen to music when I do chores or wash my car.”

Conall leaned over her shoulder and mock whispered in her ear. “So do we. We’re trying to look all professional for you.”

She shook her head, turning around with a sweet smile on her lips. “You all need to cut it out. If I’m going to live with you for two weeks, you can’t just keep up a front that long. I want to know the real you, how you live on an ordinary day.”

Then a stream of water came near her from the side, catching her off guard. The spray from the green garden hose hit the truck so close that she was covered in the splash effect. She stumbled back, clearing her eyes with her hands. When she looked up, her shirt and clothes damp from the water, she looked shocked, then angry. What he didn’t expect was for her to start laughing.

One of the guys turned the surround sound system on, unleashing a lively techno beat.

“You’re so dead, Aaron!” She picked up another hose and pumped the handle, sending a gush of water out. Tamara aimed at Aaron who childishly fought back, water for water. They both laughed as they became more and more soaked. Conall grabbed the third hose, joining Aaron in soaking their guest. Within minutes they’d all gotten in on the action, throwing soapy sponges and using the hoses as weapons. Even Jake joined in the melee. Was that a smile on his face?

Tamara laughed, the sweet, feminine sound giving life to their darkly masculine world. Her wet hair whipped to the sides and she tossed her head back and forth to avoid getting sprayed in the face. He couldn’t help but notice how her white T-shirt became transparent, molding to her full breasts. She wore a pink bra, not the color he would have pegged for her. Laughter mixed with the music, and Darius lost himself to the moment.

“It’s cold!” she squealed. Tamara began to retreat, outnumbered by the four of them. She backed up, breathless and giddy.

“You’ll pay for this, little one,” said Conall, moving in for the kill. He dropped his hose and scooped her up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She struggled, pulling at the shirt on his back and kicking her legs. He reached up and tickled her sides as he carried her to the tailgate of the nearest truck. Water pooled around Darius’s black boots as he watched Conall lower her to the rear platform of the truck. She didn’t fight him, and the laughter suddenly ceased.

Tamara wrapped her arms around Conall’s neck and he lowered in for a kiss.

Tammy couldn’t be blamed for her wayward behavior. She may have stifled her attraction for the men for the sake of business, but once they began to play, confirming her desires weren’t one-sided, her guards lowered completely. She was cold, wet, and highly aroused. Darius had tossed his wet T-shirt and the other three were in soaked undershirts. The material clung to toned muscles, their small nipples beaded. Conall’s array of tattoos was on display, having a direct effect on her libido.

She felt like a kid, wild and carefree. Tammy couldn’t even remember the last time she laughed so hard. Although she may be thirty-six, these four firefighters made her feel like she was eighteen again, ready to take on the world...including the four of them. Her pussy was molten lava compared to the gooseflesh on her arms.

When Conall charged her, winning the mock battle, she savored the feel of his hands on her. He was strong, hoisting her up like she weighed twenty pounds. The music demanded she be naughty, take what she wanted, but the responsible Tammy kept nudging her to think about her future at the
Heartland Tribute
.

Her decision was made for her when she looked up into Conall’s ocean-blue eyes after being set on the tailgate. Moist, blond hair fell down around his face, his thick lips moist and tempting. He resembled an angelic demon ready to possess her, body and soul. She instinctively reached around his shoulders, needing him closer. The only thing that mattered was the here and now. Tomorrow could wait. When he took up residence between her legs, pulling her taut against his hard body, she eagerly accepted his kiss.

His shoulders were so broad, she felt as if his body would swallow her whole. She held on for dear life as he leaned forward, never pulling away from her lips. He kissed well, a man who knew how to pleasure a woman. Moisture dripped down off his face from his hair, combining with her own. Her nipples were so tight it was painful.

“She’ll catch her death of cold if she stays in them wet clothes.” Aaron’s southern twang registered on the periphery of her consciousness. She was so enamored by Conall that it was hard to focus on anything but his taste and the hard flesh pressed against hers.

When he finally broke the kiss, she was left breathless and wanting. Never in her life had her pussy ached so desperately or her desires been so wanton. She’d successfully kept her deepest, darkest fantasies locked away where they wouldn’t tease her. Since she’d settled to the fact that she’d never get laid again, she didn’t need a futile distraction in her thoughts.

Aaron’s eyes were hungry, his lips slightly parted. He was gorgeous, and now all his attention was on her. She respected him for not putting the moves on her when they shared a bed last night, which only increased her attraction for the cowboy. He lifted the hem of her shirt, so cold and clammy against her chilled flesh. She didn’t stop him.

Part of her mind convinced her he was only doing what he said—looking out for her health. But she wasn’t foolish enough to believe he didn’t have illicit plans. It was just easier to accept an advance by four men when she held some innocent doubts. What kind of woman would she be if she gave herself over fully without a second thought?

“The girl’s nearly frozen to the bone. I think she’s going into shock.” Aaron had a wicked smirk on his face.

Darius stepped in, created a wall of male flesh right out of her most vivid fantasy. “It’s our job to rescue her. I say we cut her free of these wet clothes and warm her up Station 23 style.”

She wasn’t sure what that entailed, but as much as she wanted whatever it was he planned, she also hoped this wasn’t a common thing for them to do. Right now she felt special, enveloped in their affection and strong, male lust. It was the kind of dream she never wanted to end but knew it was only temporary. Good things rarely lasted in reality.

“But they’re my favorite jeans,” she said.

“Then take them off,” said Jake from the background. She couldn’t even see him, but for some reason his voice made her body fire to life. Every cell became a hot wire screaming out for stimulation.

She slipped off the truck, and Conall helped her to her feet since it was a big drop to the concrete floor. They watched her expectantly, their bodies beaded with moisture. She blatantly studied their ripped bodies, the same ones she’d drooled over for months. Now they were hers for the taking. From her vantage point, she noted Darius had a massive hard-on, his cock outlined in his pants, a diagonal marking of his readiness to fuck her. She couldn’t even imagine one of these firefighters wanting a plain thing like her. It was unreal.

Aaron nodded to the zipper of her jeans. She believed them when they said they would cut the clothes off her body. These were the type of men that got things done, whether using the jaws of life or demanding a woman’s obedience. Already she stood in her bra, four sets of eyes able to see her ample cleavage and most of her breasts through the lacy material. The fact they treated her like one of their emergency victims turned her on even more. She was all for their kinky game.

“Off, darlin’.”

She proceeded to peel the damp denim over her hips and down her thighs. Her panties matched her bra, something she rarely bothered to care about. Normally, she’d grab whatever was clean in her drawer. It was the dark place inside of her that hoped something would spark between her and one of the men, and here she was being hit on by all four. Was this the mentality of all firefighters? Or were these four men so close they truly did do everything together, as Aaron had teased about when she arrived?

They surrounded her like wolves to a helpless lamb. But this was exactly what she secretly hoped would happen. She stood in the large garage, so exposed and vulnerable. This was the craziest, most titillating thing she’d ever done. It all felt so natural—the banter, the kiss, the touches, the sexual demands. She’d follow wherever these men led her.

“Will you look at that,” said Conall. “Her skin’s so milky white and soft. I just want to bury my face in her little pussy.”

Her jaw dropped a bit. He spoke so crudely, but at the same time, it made her hotter. Made her imagine all the dirty things he’d gladly do to her body. Most of her exes worked in offices, used to behaving in a politically correct way—even in the bedroom. These were real men. Rough, no mercy, no apologies. Her pussy throbbed, desperate to know what it would feel like to have one of their thick, impressive cocks filling her, sating her needs.

“I’ll fuck her right here in the truck bay,” said Aaron. He moved in first, cupping her ass and grinding her against his erection. His cock felt harder than the concrete she stood on.

Her breasts were squeezed against his chest, forcing her lace bra to scrape her sensitive nipples. She smoothed her hands down his arms, savoring every curve of muscle on her descent. “I thought I needed emergency care,” she whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the music which was now on a low, repeating beat, the bass reverberating in her cunt. How had she locked up such powerful yearnings before today? Tammy never thought of herself as a sexual being. But she just needed the right men to bring her out of her shell.

“You’ll get it, sweet thing.” He lowered his dirty-blond head and suckled her neck. The connection, his hot mouth against her erogenous zone, made her world spiral in a whirlwind of sensation. Was that a new set of hands on her? One of them cupped her breasts from behind, making her gasp. Her knees felt like jelly.

“Are you wet for us, Tamara?” Darius was at her side, slipping his rough hand down the softness of her stomach toward the hem of her panties. She braced herself for his intimate touch. Too many hands. Not enough. Her blood pressure pounded in her ears, rivaling the beat of the music. Darius slid his hand past the material, his fingers grazing her sensitive folds. He tested her readiness, impaling two fingers into her cunt. His touch flipped a switch on inside of her. She dropped her head back against one man, her eyes only half-mast.

Tammy needed them to take over, control her, guide her along this path of ecstasy. She was floating, her body radiating burning heat, her pussy flooded with need. As much as she wanted to tell Darius her panties were likely soaked through because she was so aroused, her voice wouldn’t cooperate. They worked some kind of erotic spell on her.

“You didn’t answer him, baby doll. Are you ready for us?”

How could she answer Aaron any more than she could Darius? But she didn’t want her silence to signal her unwillingness to continue this sex party. So she pulled the back of his neck down so she could reach his lips. She kissed Aaron with all the energy stored up inside her, like a volcano ready to erupt. It was incomparable to experience more than one man at once, each unique, adding to her overall enjoyment. Aaron’s kiss was gentler than Conall’s but no less addicting.