Men of Station 23 [Uniform Fetish 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (8 page)

“Very tired,” she said.

“But we’ve only just begun.” He laid her down on her back on one of the sofas. The leather was cool against her overheated flesh. It was supple, her body molding into the cushions as Conall mounted her. He nudged her legs open and, just like before, slid into her slick pussy. She was so oversensitized from her recent climax that she cried out as he filled her. It was too much too soon.

“I can’t,” she pleaded. “Too much...”

“Don’t you know women have no limit to the amount of orgasms they can have in a night? I promise you’ll live.”

Darius chuckled from the other sofa. “One orgasm and she’s already wimping out. I thought you were tougher than that. Aren’t journalists supposed to be hard as nails?”

“I’m not a journalist. Not yet,” she said. Her words came out staggered as Conall fucked her. She held onto his powerful shoulders, bracing herself for more. As he thrust into her that intense feeling was replaced with a heady lust. Her sweet zone picked up where the last left off, like one long, continuous orgasm. She focused on the scattering of electric impulses in her cunt, the heat radiating up from her toes, and Conall’s warm lips against her neck. He kissed her, tongued her erogenous zones, and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

She knew her body well, and she was only seconds from exploding again. Tammy concentrated on that blissful sensation, knowing it wouldn’t last long. But before she could enjoy her reward, that piercing bell startled her out of her semicognisant state.

Conall pulled out of her, leaving her pussy throbbing and empty. She sat up on the sofa and automatically cupped her breasts. It was all so loud and confusing.

“Shit,” said Aaron. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Darius bolted to his feet. “Get suited up! Move!”

“It’s another call, Tammy. If you can get dressed fast enough, you can ride along again.” Conall cupped her face, a look of regret crossing his vision. For these men it would always be duty first. Was that why they were all gorgeous but unattached? Or did they enjoy a lifestyle filled with love-struck women willing to offer their bodies for their amusement? The only problem was she wasn’t one of
those
women. This was all wrong, but still so right. Confusion couldn’t begin to describe what she felt as that blasted alarm continued to sound and the men left her alone with her thoughts in the living room.

She was Tammy the boring, predictable, good, and reliable. It should be Steph here entertaining these men with her trim body and youthful good looks. She was adventurous and flirty, not like Tammy. But for some reason she’d been put in this position.

Regardless of the sex, she was still at Station 23 for a reason. She had to write the article of her career, make Mr. Templeton and the mayor proud so she could advance at work. Pushing pencils from nine to five for the rest of her life wasn’t her idea of a future. Tammy grabbed a newspaper and unfolded it against her front as she dashed out the door on her way to her room. She had to go along on the call and knew how fast the men could get dressed in an emergency situation. They wouldn’t wait for her even if she protested.

By the time she slid down the metal pole, the men had the bay door up and truck engine running. Their voices echoed, shouting, spelling out a checklist she didn’t understand. They moved and worked like a well-trained unit, just as they did with her body.

Darius came around the side in full protective gear. Even with the thick, yellow, fire-retardant layers hiding his fine body, she nearly melted into the puddles beneath her feet. It was the fucking uniform. It held some kind of power over her that she was helpless to fight. All that bulk over hard muscle combined with a fearless determination made each of these men irresistible. Even in the heart of an emergency, the lights flashing and alarms sounding, she envisioned herself fucking one or all of them while they kept their uniforms on.

“Tamara, hop in, we’re leaving,” said Darius as he climbed into the driver’s seat. She ran around the side where Conall and Aaron hoisted her into the rear. The truck took off and she toppled back in the small space between Aaron and Jake. They were all in uniform, helmets and all. She’d never realized how handsome their faces were because their bodies were always a distraction.

The speakers spat out a bunch of garbled gibberish as the truck raced through the streets, sirens blaring. “What does that mean?”

“Another garage fire,” said Conall. “The last one was declared arson, so I’m guessing this could be a cry for attention.”

“The last one was just inside our jurisdiction on the east end. This is the same, but on the west. Looks like someone may be playing a game, perhaps trying to make your mayor look like a fool for the placement of Station 23.” Jake made her wonder how anyone could set a fire just for attention or to prove a point. Lives were at stake. Fires spread, destroyed the lives of innocent people.

“Well I hope they catch him, if it’s true. One day he could do a lot more than property damage.” Her heart began to clench against her will. She could go off on a tangent about fire safety but stopped herself. Tammy wouldn’t reveal her sins and weaknesses to these men she barely knew. She was the flavor of the week. Nothing more.

It was easy to forget with all those sinfully seductive eyes trained on her. She only wore her jeans and an oversized, navy sweatshirt since there was no gear small enough for her. They must be very deprived to see anything attractive in her now.

“You’re right,” said Jake. His agreement surprised her. She expected he’d balk at anything she said just to be difficult. “Which is why we never take chances when going on calls like these. It’s too easy to assume a rundown garage is empty, but there could have been kids playing in it, teens using it to make out, or a homeless person using it as shelter. We can never play it too safe. No fire is a good one.”

Conall leaned over on his knees. “That’s true, but I’ve yet to find a victim in a garage fire. You’d be surprised how many we have in the city.”

The truck suddenly veered to the right on a sharp angle. The men reached up to grasp bars which were too high for her. Instead, she got three firefighters holding her carefully in place as if she might break. She was glad for the distraction because she had a feeling Conall and Jake were about to have at it. It did feel incredible having all those rough, rugged men showering her with attention, making her feel special. If only it could last forever.

Travelling in the light of day proved much more difficult for Darius than their late-night call. He had to frequently use the air horn at intersections to remind several drivers to pull to their right so they could pass. Tammy knew all too well how important it was for firefighters to get on the scene as soon as possible. Minutes and seconds were the equivalent of life and death. She may have her parents today if things had been different twenty-six years ago. Of course, Tammy had replayed the possibilities over in her head to the point of near insanity. The past couldn’t be rewritten. It was a lesson she still had to learn how to accept.

The laneway they navigated was similar to the last, maybe even narrower. There were already a couple police cars on scene, the smell of burning wood and rubber infused in the air.

“Wait here, darlin’. We’ll be right back.” Aaron kissed her before dropping down to the pavement. Once they were all gone, she stood on the edge of the opening and leaned out to see as much as she could. She desperately wanted to get closer to the action, to see her men at work, but didn’t dare break the rules and risk them getting distracted.

Tammy didn’t have a watch on, but it felt like she sat in the back of the truck, staring at the brick walls on either side of her, for hours. A red, marked SUV pulled up. The fire chief was probably there again to check for signs of arson. A serial arsonist would be really bad for the city but great for the mayor who was trying to drum up funds for another fire station. He could point his finger and give physical proof that more firefighters were needed. But surely the mayor wouldn’t stoop to such a level.

“Want a friend?” asked Darius, appeared at the opening, his cheeks black with soot. He held a tabby cat out to her. Its orange fur was nearly black, and its eyes wide with fear.

“Where’d she come from?” Tammy gently took the cat into the cradle of her arms and stroked its head. She hadn’t attempted to commit into pet ownership since she’d been on the move so much after leaving her ex. Maybe it was about time she started to trust that her life no longer required looking over her shoulder.

“Jake rescued her from the fire. Our arsonist nearly claimed a life this time.”

“So it is arson? The same guy?”

“Fire chief said the same accelerant was used, and the scene is similar to the one last night. It’s hard to tell if and when he’ll strike next.”

Tammy imagined their already precarious lives would be even more stressful. At any minute during the day they’d half expect a call for another garage fire. It must be horrible to always live under a virtual dangling blade, never able to have a life like a civilian. Not that she did much better, always waiting for something horrible to happen.

The other men began to climb into the truck. “What a waste of time,” Conall grumbled as he sat in his seat. “The insurance adjusters will be here all afternoon.”

“And we’ll have a shitload of paperwork to do when we get back,” added Jake.

“I’m sure the cat appreciates what you did.” She directed her comment at Jake since he was the one to save the animal.

“Another small consolation.” He seemed to be speaking to himself as if disappointed with his performance. What was eating him up on the inside? Tammy knew full well how life experiences could mold a person, harden or weaken them. She was proud of how she’d overcome most of her guilt and anger in the past couple decades. But others weren’t as successful. Perhaps Jake was one of them, forever living in a shadow of some traumatic past event.

They drove back to Station 23, her men surrounding her in the belly of the fire truck. She couldn’t help but feel a deep-seated dread wash through her as they turned the next corner. For the briefest moment she swore she recognized one of the faces waiting on the corner but then cast away the thought as a product of her overactive imagination. It had been another long, draining start to her day and her mind was just playing tricks. She settled back against Conall’s shoulder for the rest of the trip.

When Darius went to open the door he noted the doorjamb was slightly splintered. “Hey, take a look at this,” he said.

Jake bent down and assessed the lock once he swung the door open. “Who’d want to break in here?”

Conall tugged off his helmet, watching curiously. “What’s going on?”

“Lock’s been messed with,” said Darius. They were only a fire station. Although they kept emergency supplies on hand, they didn’t carry narcotics. Daylight flooded the large asphalt driveway around them, and they weren’t located in a particularly seedy part of town. He wasn’t sure what a thief could be after.

Conall shoved Jake aside, gently running a finger along the dented wood, his brow lowered. “He used a crowbar, then a flathead screwdriver to pop the lock. Look, the shape is molded into the wood.”

“Take a look around to see if anything’s missing. I really don’t want to call the guys from the department down here for nothing. We’ve all got enough paperwork from all these garage fires.” Darius trusted Conall’s final analysis. He’d been through the prison system in his youth. If one of them could recognize the signs of breaking and entering, it would be Conall.

The station looked clean and untouched. Darius checked on their defibrillating machines and other expensive equipment, but it appeared everything was in check. What could thieves have wanted? They weren’t a store and didn’t carry cash. Then he thought to check their living room. Maybe the crook was after their electronics. They’d invested a lot of their personal money to make their living quarters comfortable. For the amount of time they spent at the station, it was literally their second home.

Aaron was taking Tammy to the animal shelter to drop off the cat. She’d wanted to keep the poor animal, but protocol said it had to be left at the shelter for a couple weeks in case the owners called to claim it. Even without a collar, the owners could be looking for it, or it could be microchipped.

Conall and Jake followed behind him, probably having the same idea about the electronics. He couldn’t imagine Jake without his Sports Network or Conall without his Discovery Channel.

After they’d all spilled into the large room, Darius did a quick visual sweep. The flat screen was in place, the surround system untouched, and the stereo where they left it. Aaron’s iPad was even lying on the coffee table, an easy score for a would-be thief.

“He must have got scared off,” said Conall, flopping down on the end of the sofa.

“Or there wasn’t a break-in at all.” Jake leaned against the support pillar. “Maybe the door’s been like that for ages and you’re just noticing now, Darius.”

Conall sat up higher. “You’re questioning what I said?”

“What if Frank got locked out once upon a time? It’s not hard to pop a lock.” Jake paced the room.

“I would have noticed the busted doorjamb.”

Jake gave up, finally shrugging before heading to the stairs.

Darius sat on the coffee table once he was gone, facing Conall. “So what are we gonna do about Tammy?”

“What do you mean?”

“You forget our little afternoon foray?”

Conall smiled. “How could I forget that? It’ll be branded in my head even when I’m old and gray.” He shrugged off his overcoat and tossed it on the back of the sofa before settling in comfortably.

“And?” Darius felt the weight of the many conflicting emotions inside of him. The firefighter wanted to make amends, do the right thing, and treat the journalist with respect and professionalism. The man wanted to connect with her, to nurture the budding relationship, to finally know what it felt like to commit to a woman. His body wanted to fuck her again.