Wylder Bluffs Firefighters: The Complete Short-Story Collection

by Tarin Lex

  “You stopped,” she pouts.

  Speaking for both myself and the lower captain, throbbing impatiently against my jeans: “I didn’t want to.”

  “Then. Don’t.”

  So I kiss her again. My dick lurches as heat pounds every fiber, every nerve, with my unrestrained desire for her. I deepen the kiss, coaxing her lips slowly apart to taste her tongue.

  Emily moans, unraveling the barest thread of restraint I had left in me. She slings her legs around my hips. I groan, hoarsely. I catch her, and carry her the rest of the way up the stairs and to my bed. I drop her down, and she flips over, squirming and giggly, crawling up to my pillowcase. I reach for her ankles and tug her toward me. “Ah-ah.”

  She flips over onto her back, grinning wildly, and wraps her legs around me again, impressively, twining her ankles to wrench me closer. I take off my shirt. Her arms rise and fall over her head. I feel my cock pulsing against my jeans against her center of heat. She arches back. A sexy crimson flush stains her cheeks and down her throat and dips beneath the neckline of her girly dress.

  “You’re very strong,” Emily says.

  “You’re very…bendy.”

  “Kiss me again.”

  I take another moment to survey her, from her dazzling face to her perfect tits heaving up and down with each of her breaths. My gaze descends, traveling past every languid curve, to her strong, tan legs and bare feet. Kiss her, I will.

  Every square inch of her.

  Emily

  “Where?” he asks.

  Smiling, I point to my lips.

  He disobeys.

  Sawyer must be trying to kill me to start all the way down at my toes. I giggle at first, but the sensation of his mouth, open and hot over each little toe, is new, and about all the eroticism I can handle without going off like a rocket soon. Who would’ve thought, feet? There’s a connection at the tips of my toes I never realized shot straight up to my clit. Shouldn’t he be the one concerned about coming too soon, not me?

  If his intention was to inspire every throaty noise I can physically make, as his tongue finally relieves my piggies to glide slowly up and down my inner thigh with the tenderness of silk, mission accomplished.

  “Sawyer…”

  I feel him smiling against my hot, damp skin. The spark he ignites, when his face disappears beneath the hem of my dress, silences me altogether. His warm breath shudders against the ephemeral fabric of my thong, and I go boneless.

  “Saw—yer!”

  “What I wouldn’t give to hear you break my name in half like that…” His voice is low, husky, and sending vibrations all over my long-neglected lady parts. “…every day.” I bite back a whimper. Now he’s rendered me speechless too.

  This man. I swear. He’s unbelievably giving, kind, funny, disarming, and so, so savagely sexy. My walls clench hard as he slides my thong down past my ankles and returns to proffer long, wet, indolent strokes, flicking his tongue over my clit. He arcs his gaze up toward mine, whiskey eyes hazy with need. I let him feast on me, it feels so damn good, suppressing the urge to grind harder against his mouth and come all over his eager tongue.

  “Sawyer, please, fill me before I come on your face.”

  With a growl, he swipes his tongue once more up my slit, over my pearl, then higher, taking my dress with him as he ascends. I lift it all the way over my head. No bra, no time. Sawyer frames his body over mine before bending down to lavish the same brand of indulged affection on each of my breasts. Rough hands, soft touch. He pets my nipples between his fingers, then tugs gently with his teeth, and whatever tension was coiled there, unleashes, so that my whole body lights up with powerful, provoking, incessant need.

  “You have…the most…heavenly pussy.” Sawyer grins. “And these tits…” He cradles them, and licks his lips. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  Well. If his proud, heavy sex jerking and grinding against my thigh is any indication at all…

  Smiling, I shake my head no. “Show me.”

  “You’re perfect, Emily.” Sawyer slides up higher to stroke his long, hard cock, leisurely, teasing me senseless. His dark expression betrays his own torture though. I reach down between us to feel his solidness for myself.

  Breathlessly, “Inside. Me. Now. Sawyer!”

  “I’m clean,” he whispers.

  “Me too.”

  “Birth control?”

  I have an IUD, but do we need to talk specifics here? “I’m all set.”

  He just smirks.

  And then—finally!—he does what I asked. Smart man.

  I’m ill-prepared for the onslaught of pleasure it brings when Sawyer presses his cock between my folds, and drives all the way inside of me, my walls yielding and dripping down his length. “Fuck, Em.” He kisses my neck, my chin, my throat. All the soft places where desperate affections somehow foster more heat below, rousing a fire I can’t contain. I cleave my fingertips into his back. I inhale, deep. I gasp and moan. Together, we find a rhythm.

  In, out. Hotter, harder.

  Higher, higher.

  In, out. In…in… “There. Don’t stop, Sawyer. Yes! Right there!”

  Sawyer’s groan crescendos into an animated curse as I shudder my release right when I feel the head pulsate with a flood of his cum. On impulse I squeeze harder around his cock, my legs tightening over his hips. I want to cradle his seed for as long as I can. I’m not ready to let go of him yet.

  Gradually, he rolls to his side. The strength to hold him drains from my limbs. We face each other as we descend from euphoric highs. Our hearts and breaths slow.

  I close my eyes. How did I even find this man? I open them. I can’t help but observe him closer, even now, quieted. Sawyer is all coarse tanned skin and rippled sinew, soft and sensitive in all the right places. He smells a little like engine oil and testosterone. I hadn’t noticed his scent before. Now I can’t stop inhaling it. He reaches for me, his eyelids fluttering open to stare in my eyes. His fingers trail from my hair, to my chest, down my arms. “Does that feel good?”

  “Mmm.”

  Tonight, his perfect touch did all kinds of crazy things, all at once. Pleasure me, wreck me, leaving me fortified and reposed.

  And so helplessly turned on I had to bite my lip or scream his name.

  Or admit that I’m falling in love with him.

  Five

  Sawyer

  “Quit biting your fingernails.”

  “What?”

  “I notice you do that when you’re anxious.”

  “Oh. And you know when I’m anxious or not?”

  Well. What else could it be? I just had the greatest orgasm of my life with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever held. I feel like shouting from the top of Wylder Peak. Or busting up in a fit of giggles. Then falling asleep. Man I bet I could sleep like a baby after the adrenaline settles. I still feel it rocking through me.

  Meanwhile, this perfect woman I’ve fallen head-over-feet in love with in under a week, is all but attacking her fingernails with her teeth.

  “I could guess what this is about, but those sorts of guesses rarely end well.” I reach over to touch her chin, and she lowers her hand. “At least, put my fragile ego to rest,” I joke, winning a smile from her. “Did you have a good time?”

  “The best.” Emily puts her palm to my chest. “That was amazing. You are amazing, Sawyer. This whole evening has been…” She sighs.

  “You’re feeling guilty.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to guess?”

  “Am I right?”

  “No.”

  “You’re worried about what people will think.”

  “No. It doesn’t matter much to me what your coworkers think of you.” She grins, teasing me. And Christ, how I love it. “I rarely care what other people think of me.”

  “Good.”

  “Do you?” she asks.

  “Not this time.” Nothing matters to me at all except keeping what I’ve found. What’s mine.
“You’re scared.”

  “You are the absolute worst at not guessing.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “I-I don’t know.” Emily shakes her head, smiling softly. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

  “I love you, Emily Davis.”

  “I know, Sawyer.” She pulls away. “Thank you.”

  Emily

  I swore I was ready to date, have fun and get to know somebody, go out and really live. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone new—not this quickly. I didn’t lose Alex to the job like I’d always worried I would, but still, I lost him. Sawyer is a fire captain, a hardworking man, a true hero. He deserves an epic love. It could be me on the other side of that. But I’ve already lost epic love once before, and it hurt. I can’t bear the thought of losing someone I love again.

  Scared. Yep. That one hit the nail on the head.

  I spend all of Sunday with Jake. We go to his favorite playground, order his favorite flavored ice cream with all the toppings I always tell him have too much sugar. I let him stay up late watching his favorite cartoons. See, I’m not so rigid—I can dare to live a little!

  I do not start biting my nails when I think of the hell Monday morning is going to be…

  Did we only meet a week ago? Yet my world’s been thrown. Thoughts of Sawyer pervade every open space in my mind, mixing me all up. Top to bottom, inside and out, side to side. I didn’t want to cut our night short. I didn’t even want to go home. I wanted Jake and me to move right into his home, move right into his life, and let all the other messed-up pieces settle around us.

  I need a friend. Discussions of Alex weren’t off-limits, but some emotions felt too wrong to voice out loud. What lover wants to hear that I still sometimes cry at night? That I loved him so much, I’m afraid to follow my heart again?

  “You do realize you wanted to say those things because you’ve already fallen in love with him?” Mom admonishes me with a click of her tongue, a touch of humor in her voice. She and Jake have been two pillars that held me up when I felt weak, and held me up still, when I thought I was strong.

  “Yes,” I tell her. “Of course.”

  “Open up to him.”

  “Mom, I can’t—”

  “You can,” she says. “You will. Or you might as well kiss that man goodbye tonight.”

  Six

  Sawyer

  All I can do is give her space, but I’d be lying to say I haven’t thought of Emily every day for the last few weeks. We’ve texted back and forth almost daily, friendly how are yous and what’s your day like today? A couple of times the dialogue veered toward subtle flirtation. She’s made it clear she isn’t ready to call this a relationship yet. I’ve made it clear that I can be a patient man. Whatever Emily and I are or aren’t, yet, I’m officially taken. She can stake her claim on me.

  It’s mid-September, and getting cool outside already. Emily’s invited me to Jake’s sixth birthday party, at her house. I smile as I watch her shift from sultry MILF to Supermom. She laughs and plays along with the kids. She keeps everyone in line. She’s in her element with all the little ones, adoring them. I can tell, there isn’t a child on earth she couldn’t love.

  On occasion, we steal quick, private glances. It’s a small town and a lot of the other adults know me here. They don’t know the situation, and they don’t need to. Hell I don’t even really know what’s going on between us.

  After lunch, I step into the kitchen to grab a beer, and she follows me in, surprising me with her hand on my arm. “Thank you for being here.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.” I pop the top of the IPA. “Want one?”

  “No, thanks. I could use your help though…with the cake?”

  “I’m all yours.”

  She lifts up on tiptoe to peck my cheek. “If you could take it out of the oven? I’ll get some candles.”

  I set the Neapolitan racecar cake on the counter. Emily places six candles. I light them. She turns down the lights. I stand back as she presents it to Jake and we all sing Happy Birthday.

  When everyone’s served, Emily finds her way back to my side, holding her untouched slice. “He made three cakes.”

  “What?” I look down at her, my eyebrows knit together.

  Emily’s eyes are a pale sea-green as she watches me, watching Jake. “I always had store-bought growing up, so that’s what I would’ve always done. But Alex insisted on homemade. He even did it himself. The first year, a smash cake that turned my baby’s poop blue for two days.” Emily giggles at that. I listen with focused intent. “Alex baked a chocolate cake for his second birthday. When Jake turned three, he had decided he liked strawberry best, and Alex outdid himself with a strawberry ice cream cake.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “It was.” Emily shifts a little closer to me, reaching for my hand and lacing her fingers with my own. “He made three. And now, I’ve made three.”

  A tear lodges in my throat, and I swallow it down. “How does that feel, Em?”

  “Amazing.” She arcs her gaze toward mine again. “There were lots of things I had to start doing when Alex went. But I never complained. It was always my pleasure to do those things. To pick up in all the little places where he left off.”

  “You are amazing.”

  Emily smiles. We stand together for a moment, watching the party. It’s almost time for gifts, but she’s not letting go yet. I’m not close to ready for her to let go.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “For what?”

  “Letting me share that story with you.”

  “Letting you? Em.” Gently, I spin her so she’s facing me. “You can tell me anything. I want you to.”

  “I realize that now.”

  Warmth races over my chest and up my neck. Everything I feel for this woman is right there, right at the surface. I want to hear every story she has to tell. I want to learn about every nuance of her body and mind. It takes every shred of willpower I have left not to pull her into my arms and claim her lips.

  “You can tell all of your secrets to me.”

  “I want to.”

  I grin, and touch her cheek, tracing a line around her jaw, to her bottom lip, where her mouth parts ever slight. Some people might see. But nobody here seems to care. Or we’re too lost in our own world to care if they do.

  “There’s absolutely no reason for you to feel guilty.”

  “I’m not guilty for loving you.” Emily shakes her head, then rests her cheek against my palm, covering my hand with her own. “If anything I’m sort of guilty over how not guilty I am for what I feel for you.”

  “That’s…a little confusing,” I tell her. She smiles at that. We share a laugh that’s toned down by edges of masked, muted pain. My heart tips. “You love me?”

  “I love you more than I thought I could.”

  “Don’t make me guess the rest of that statement.”

  “I won’t torture you this time.” She grins, her green eyes alight with tears that are at least halfway happy to see me right now, to stand here with me, and touch me. “Loving you, scares me.”

  I hold her against me, closer. “Energy never dies. It only transforms.” Her cheek settles on my chest, and I set my chin on top of her head.

  “Einstein.”

  “That’s right.”

  “It is a comfort,” Emily whispers, “in so many ways, to realize that nothing in the universe is new.”

  “If that’s true…” I take both of her hands in mine and look at her face till my eyes catch hers. “…then nothing in the universe is ever missing, either.” When I let go of her hands, she reaches them up to press both soft, warm palms against my neck, curling her fingers into my hair.

  “God I love you.”

  She smiles, this time all the way, like the first day we met at her door. “I know, Sawyer. I love you too.”

  Epilogue

  Emily – One year later

  I stop what I’m doing for a moment
and just look around at my half-empty home. It sold quickly. Three years ago, we bought it quickly. Now it looks almost the same as it did when we first moved in. Open, bright. Occupied by more boxes than furniture. A diamond on my left ring finger.

  “Your room all packed up now, Spark?” Sawyer asks Jake.

  My son grabs a juice-box from the fridge and just nods in reply. I swear sometimes, this kid is seven going on seventeen. He’s quiet, like I tend to be. Moody, sometimes. But he’s also a very affectionate boy. He’s made closer friends in the last year. And he does well in school. One transition after another could’ve been a lot harder on us, but he’s resilient, and I’m so immeasurably proud of him.

  Sawyer and I trade a look that says one of us better go in there and help Jake finish the job.

  We make a good team, Sawyer and I, whether it’s in the kitchen cooking meals together, in the bedroom making love, or in the living and dining rooms, raising Jake. It bodes well for me to be engaged to a fireman. I like my time alone but when I get too much of it, I’m assaulting the man with cuddles and kisses and other things. And that bodes well for him.

  Both gossip and fire spread quickly in Wylder Bluffs, Idaho. Word traveled fast that Sawyer and I were “hooking up.” I hated that phrase, not because I give a damn what everyone thinks, but because it was so far off from what was actually happening between us. New love. They only gave him a little hell at the station, but some of those guys could only go off for so long. When one by one they, too, fell in love, they came around and understood. Some of them fell mighty deep, and I won’t lie and say Sawyer and I didn’t chuckle at that.

  He presses a kiss to my cheek, pulling me from my wandering thoughts. His signature scent still intoxicates me. We trade a smile that promises more, later.

  I get moving again, packing up the home I once shared with Alex, for such a short time, all those years ago. It’s bittersweet. I can never anticipate when my heart will cinch to my throat, threatening tears. But I know for a fact his spirit doesn’t live here. Alex hasn’t lived here in a long time—he lives inside my heart. He always will.