Authors: Ashley Shay
Tags: #Erotica, #Menage a Trois (m/f/m), #Menage Everlasting, #The American Heroes Collection
Sinful Pleasures (3 page)
Morgan took out his wallet and peeled off three one-hundred-dollar bills. “We really want Tom to have a perfect honeymoon. It’s hard for guys like us to pick out outfits without seeing them on.”
Jude looked at the bills he placed on the dresser. She could use the money to help pay for the new shipment. Not to mention the thrill of going along with their charade. It turned her on to think of them looking at her without being able to do a thing about it. She considered it a little payback for their earlier behavior in the toy room.
“You can’t touch.” She looked back and forth between them. “Not to feel the fabric, not to find out if it’s stretchy. No touching at all.”
Both men held up their hands, palms outward. “Promise.”
Jude ignored the butterflies in her stomach. “Okay, pick out the outfits, and I’ll try them on.”
Leaving the two men in comfortable chairs, Jude went into the dressing room with an armful of lingerie. The first outfit she tried on was a hot little rumba number. It had ruffled red panties and a barely-there black lace bra with playful red trim around the bottom. While not exactly a wicked ensemble, it flowed with artistic sexuality. The men’s choice surprised Jude. She imagined they would pick out something more in-your-face seductive.
Turning her back to the mirror, she checked out her rear view and had to admit the outfit was sexy as hell. The flirty ruffles fluttered with every movement she made, accenting the curve of her hips and the length of her legs.
Nice choice guys, she praised mentally, steeling herself to step out of the dressing room.
“Fucking beautiful,”
“Turn around.” Morgan spun his finger in the air in a twirling motion. “Baby, that outfit belongs to you. I can’t imagine any other woman looking half as good.”
Jude felt herself blush at his compliment. She knew by the intensity of his eyes he meant what he said. He looked like he wanted to eat her up on the spot, just like the big bad wolf.
“Try on the…”
Before his next words could be spoken, the alarm bells blared at the fire station. Both men jumped up from the chairs without hesitation. “Wrap them up for us, Jude. We’ll be back after our shift,”
Morgan hesitated at the door, calling back up the stairway. “We’ll take ’em all.”
Jude looked at the pile of clothes with a smile curling her lips. The boys wouldn’t be getting much change back from the three hundred dollars they left on the edge of the antique dresser.
Dallas and Morgan struck her as the kind of men who didn’t care how much they spent as long as they got what they wanted. Jude knew from the look in their eyes they both wanted her. The knowledge gave her a shiver of excitement, but at the same time, it made her nervous. She had talked to each of them about many subjects over the past year, but she still didn’t know them intimately enough to guess at the secrets they held behind those guarded faces. She hoped she’d get a chance to find out.
Jude heard the ladder truck pull out of the station with its sirens blaring. She felt a momentary chill of apprehension. The realization of the danger the men faced daily made her think about a relationship beyond physical gratification. Could she handle such a relationship? Could she face knowing that every time her man went on a call his life hung in the balance?
In the distance, the siren still called out its wailing scream, and a chill crossed Jude’s heart.
Please let them be safe, she thought.
Let them be safe.
Chapter Two
Ladder Six stopped in front of a five-story apartment building on the south side of town. Morgan could see flames shooting out of a window on the fourth floor. He jammed his helmet on as he trotted toward the building, glancing behind him at the crowd gathering across the street. He could tell by the worried faces that most of the people watching the fire lived in the low-rent apartments. They were seeing everything they owned go up in flames.
Ignore them, he told himself. You’ve got a job to do.
Trying unsuccessfully to shut down his emotions, Morgan knew he’d be more effective holding his sympathy until they had the fire under control. He almost made it to the door when a frightened child burst out of the building, followed by a hysterical woman carrying a set of twin infants.
Steeling himself not to react to her tear-streaked face, Morgan still thought the little girl’s round blue eyes had the most tragic expression he’d ever seen. She ran straight to him, tugging at the hem of his bunker coat.
“Mr. Fireman?”
Morgan squatted down to the child, pulling his helmet off so he wouldn’t frighten her. He’d learned long ago not to dismiss children when they had something urgent to say. Kids had an uncanny way of dealing with disaster better than adults.
“What, honey?”
“My brofer’s in dere. He went back for Timmy. Mommy couldn’t find him. We had to leave.” The child looked up at the woman who nodded frantically, sobbing nearly as hard as the two screaming infants she held in her thin arms.
“Who’s Timmy?” Morgan asked, trying to keep his voice soft. A familiar ache started in his chest, threatening to choke him.
Not another kid, please, God, not another kid.
“Timmy’s our kitty.”
“Okay, honey, I’ll look for your brother and your kitty.” Morgan’s heart beat so hard he felt breathless. “Tell me your brother’s name and what floor he’s on.”
“Jason.” She solemnly held up four fingers, looking up at her tearful mother again for confirmation.
Morgan didn’t know if she meant the fourth floor or if her brother was four years old. Sometimes it was hard to tell with younger kids giving the information. He looked at the woman clutching the howling twins against each shoulder.
She’s in shock, he thought, noticing the unfocused stare.
“Fourth floor?”
She gazed at him blankly.
“Lady!” he said sharply. She blinked her eyes in confusion as if coming out of a deep sleep without recognizing her surroundings. “Fourth floor? Is your son on the fourth floor?”
She nodded slowly. Morgan didn’t wait for more details. He gently pushed her out of his way, running for the door. He wouldn’t be too late this time.
Inside the building, he could hear screams and knew the making of a nightmare was in progress. Civilians were pushing past him as he ran up the stairs two at a time, heading straight for the fourth floor.
He keyed his com link. “
“Where are you?”
“Gotta stray kid somewhere on four.”
“On my way.”
Opening the stairway door, Morgan could see nothing but smoke and flame.
Fuck this, he thought. I can’t take it any longer. I can’t take another family being torn apart.
He stepped into the hallway, ignoring his fear as he searched.
“Jason! Jason can you hear me?” he shouted.
Morgan heard nothing but the roar of flames in response.
With a sinking feeling, he knew he might be too late. Again.
Another kid that won’t grow up, he thought, another family that will never be the same. Another failure.
“Jason!”
The tears on his cheeks felt hot, and he didn’t care that he was crying.
The hallway wasn’t fully engulfed. Flames leapt upward through open doors, hungrily tracking across the ceiling. It wouldn’t be long until the whole floor ignited, but Morgan still had time to pull off a rescue if he could just find the boy.
C’mon, give me a clue
.
Tell me where you are.
Suddenly, out of the smoke, a huge tabby cat rushed him, hissing and snarling in terror as he ran from the flames. Morgan heard the stairway door open behind him, and
“Any sign of the kid?”
Morgan shook his head no, not bothering to hide his tears.
The thick smoke obscured visibility. Both men trailed their hands down the wall to keep their bearings. Morgan knew it wouldn’t be long till they had to evacuate to protect themselves. His stomach cramped, and he felt like he might be sick at the thought of leaving a kid in this inferno.
“Morgan?”
“Not yet.” Morgan held on stubbornly. He couldn’t give up. Not till he found the kid. “He’s gotta be here somewhere.”
At the far end of the hall a wall came down, throwing sparks and flame in their direction.
“We’ve gotta go,”
“Go, I’ll be right behind you.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, go on,” Morgan urged. “We don’t have much time. Get out of here.”
Morgan caught the sound of Dallas’s tanks hitting the wall when he turned. He nodded his head, although no one could see him.
He stumbled hard, falling over something in his path.
Whatever he tripped over didn’t move. The smoke was less dense on the floor, but still heavy enough Morgan couldn’t make out more than a vague shape. A small lump curled up in a tight ball.
He whirled around and settled himself on his knees. His hands trembled as he gathered up a small boy of no more than five or six years old. The kid stirred when Morgan shook him, coughing violently as his body tried to suck in clean air.
Tearing off his face plate, Morgan put the breathing apparatus over the child’s face, letting him suck in a few breaths of filtered air.
He saw a pair of boots come into view.
“What the fuck are you doin’ man? C’mon, get your face plate back on.”
“Got him.” Morgan scooped the child up into his arms, running for the stairs with
A roar went up from the crowd when Morgan burst through the door and carried the child straight to a waiting team of paramedics. Morgan knew he’d gotten lucky this time. It had been close up there, much too close. His hands began to shake with the aftermath of adrenaline. He’d won this time. It made the job worthwhile.
* * * *
“Is the kid gonna be okay?”
“Paramedics think so.”
“That’s good. No fatalities this fire. It’s a miracle.”
“Just luck,” Morgan said. “It could have been hell. The building wasn’t up to code. These people have nowhere to go, and they’ve lost everything they owned. It’s not right.”
Morgan looked like he wanted to argue the point, but he kept quiet and only shrugged his shoulders.
Always a champion for the underdog,
His best friend really hadn’t changed much over the years since they first met.
Firefighters filtered past them, carrying equipment back to their respective apparatus.
“Good work,” the captain said as he passed. “Let’s hope the rest of the shift is quiet.”
“Yeah,” they both said simultaneously.
Morgan’s serious expression lightened. “What the hell, she might give in and let us play with her toys. Do you think?”
“She’s hot for us,”
“In your dreams.”
“Seriously, man. We turn her on.”
“Whatever you say,” Morgan answered, opening the door of the ladder truck.
“I’ll bet you next week’s pay she will let us show her how to play with the toys. Did you see that expression on her face? She’s real curious about things.”
“She did seem to have fun modeling those clothes,” Morgan agreed.
“We got to see one fucking outfit.”
“Probably for the better.” Morgan grinned at last. “I’m not sure I could have kept my promise not to touch.”
“Me neither.”
“Thinking about those long legs, aren’t you?” Morgan asked, hauling himself into the truck.
The other men climbed into the front of the cab, and