Wylder Bluffs Firefighters: The Complete Short-Story Collection

by Tarin Lex

  Thorne grins with wicked satisfaction, watching me come.

  Then when our hearts and breaths return to normal, he holds me close. The big O sent aftershocks through my abdomen, less like waves of pleasure and more like little tight fists squeezing me guts. My thighs shake. My nipples tingle, not altogether uncomfortably.

  Thorne lays his hand over the swollen bump. I lay my hand over his.

  “How’s he doin’ in there?”

  “I think you woke him up.” I giggle. I do wonder if the baby can feel those little vibrations. Is this why they say sex can help initiate labor? “Either that or you broke a rib,” I tease.

  “You still have those?” He looks at my belly and I palm his chest.

  “Hey now!” Not that I haven’t wondered myself. My ribs might be invisible now but I know they’re there—it’s kinda hard to miss when baby Brian bruises them with his ferocious little kicks.

  “If you were as light as a feather, I’d tryin’ sweep you off your feet.” Thorne plants a kiss on my nose. “And when you’re round as a planet, I’ll get you the moon.”

  I sigh, utterly at peace. “I love you, T.” I nuzzle in his embrace.

  “I’ll love you always, my bride.”

  The End

  4 | Jason

  One

  Miranda

  “Talk to me.” I smile sweetly, purring at him. “Tell me what you wanna do to me…” I’m hoping it’s good. I haven’t come in like nine days and I’m so on edge, I need Mike to man up and make this happen.

  “I never understood the point of that,” Mike says. I tip my head in question. “Talking about it,” he bellyaches. “C’mon. Let’s just fuck.”

  Well if my pussy isn’t heated now… “It’s foreplay, Mike.”

  He exhales irritably. “All right,” he says, giving in. I scooch closer. He puts his arm around me. “First…I’d take off all your clothes.”

  “Mhm,” I hum.

  “I’d lay you down on the bed and get on top. And then, we’d fuck.”

  And that right there’s Mike in a nutshell. Typical, missionary, fast. Bing-bang-boom.

  Can’t he at least add sprinkles to our vanilla sex?

  I sigh. “Let me try?”

  “Fine.”

  I straddle his thighs. “Mmm. This is nice,” I whisper. I skitter my fingers up his chest, interlacing them at the nape of his neck.

  He makes a face. “You’re a little heavy for this, babe. No offense.”

  Offense taken. I make a face back at him. He’s being insufferable but I need that cock! I smile, determined, and swing my hips in a slow, craven circle over his lap. I lower my voice to a dulcet pitch. “I love feeling your dick get hard for me.”

  “I’m not that hard yet.” He cradles my hips the way you might cradle a pipe bomb. “Take off your shirt.”

  “A man who takes charge?” I ask. “Ooh.” I tug my blouse over my head. “I like it when you’re assertive like that.”

  His blond brows knit together. “You don’t think I’m assertive?”

  “I do.” Not really at all, no. “I’m saying I like it.”

  “But you said when.”

  “Can we focus?” I tilt his chin up, just enough so when I lower my breasts they graze his face. He softly moans. It doesn’t exactly light me up, but at least now I know he still likes the ta-tas. “You know what else I like?”

  “Hm?”

  “When you suck my nipples.” I play with them as illustration with my fingers.

  “Can’t.” He points to his jaw with his thumb. “Just had that filling redone. Remember?”

  “Well you don’t have to do it now.”

  “Good.” He makes hurry-up circles with his hand.

  “You get me so wet just thinking about you.” Giving him my best seductive smile, I lower one hand to my jeans and trace little circles over my clit.

  To my utter surprise he watches me, eyes wide. “That’s…very nice.”

  “Mm-hmm. I do this when I think of you.” Okay that’s a lie. “Thinking about your tongue working its magic over my pussy—”

  “See, but do you have to use such crass language though?”

  “Pussy?” I whisper, feigning a look like I’m scandalized.

  He tenses up. “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong with pussy?” I really shouldn’t goad him like this. Somehow it’s more fun than thinking about having sex with him. “Pussy. Pussy.” I grin.

  “Stopit.”

  “Oh come on, Mike. You said ‘fuck’ two seconds ago!”

  “I’m a dude.”

  “Fuck-fuck-fuck. Pussy. Dick. Cock!” He looks so constipated I can’t help but giggle as he nudges me off his lap. “Cunt! Asshole! Golden shower!”

  Mike stands over me, crossing his arms. “You’re exasperating.”

  “You’re uptight.”

  “You’re crude,” he keens.

  “You’re boring.”

  “You’re selfish!”

  “Whoa!” Shots fired! “Selfish?” Of all things! I make a ‘stop’ motion with both palms facing him. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m horny, Miranda.” He exhales, miserably. “I was. Why can’t we just have sex like normal couples do?”

  “Normal couples experiment together. They tell each other what they like, what they want their partner to do, what they wanna do to them…” Why am I even still trying? My sex drive already took a nosedive. “Normal couples use grownup words!”

  Mike rakes his hair back, paired with a deep surrendering sigh. He sits down next to me. “Would it kill you to soften your language…for me? You have such a pretty mouth.” He brushes my lower lip with his thumb, subduing me. At least for the moment. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

  “Okay.” I brighten, shifting toward him. My time to shine. I trace the outline of his half-rigid sex. “Just imagine my finger is my tongue…”

  “Mm.”

  I draw circles over the tip, then lower, caressing the sensitive spot where the shaft meets the head, and winning a shudder from Mike. A glimmer of hope pricks my chest. He does have nerve endings! With a little more pressure, I skate my hand down his snake and over his balls, slowing down as I keep…petting…and then pause, just for a second before I reach past the perineum to lightly touch my pinky right over his—

  “Gah!” Mike jumps like a mouse in a trap and I reel back in a fit of giggles. “No, gross, with your tongue?” He pulls a face. “You know I don’t actually like that.”

  “I know, Mike.” Still giggling, I get dressed and gather my things. “You don’t like messes. You don’t like talking. You don’t like shapes.” I jut out my hip and press my hand to the exaggerated curve. “You think I’m selfish? Well I’m done bending over backwards for you.”

  I’m just… done. I scuttle about, stuffing my things into my backpack.

  “This is a little extreme,” Mike says flatly. “Are you on your period or something? Is that why you didn’t want to have sex?”

  I just roll my eyes at that. It isn’t worth it. Keep moving.

  “I love you, baby. Just stop for a second. You need to calm down.”

  Right. I need a man who can handle me—kinks, curves, and everything else. Someone whose spitfire matches mine. Who doesn’t miss a beat when I need him to put out the blaze!

  I glance out Mike’s living room window as I shrug into my backpack. Speaking of fire.

  “Oh my god, smoke.”

  “I’m not just blowing smoke—”

  “No, Mike, smoke!” I point. “I think your neighbor’s house is on fire!” The sirens warble on cue. I look down at my Jetta parked on the street. I make to leave.

  “Wait,” he says. “Please.” Aw but he does look like a sad pup.

  “You know what you need, Mike?”

  “What’s that.” He could not sound more exhausted by me.

  “A nice, good little choir girl.” I pat his chest. “Get you a skinny blonde one, yeah?”

 
His face darkens. “You bitch.”

  “And don’t you know it.” I put on a straight face and walk out the door.

  Inside my heart splinters like fallen red cedar. I was being sarcastic about the skinny blonde church girl, but it wasn’t a total joke—Mike would be ten times more compatible with a woman like that. I accept that…

  …but will I ever find the right guy for me?

  Two

  Jason

  It’s been one helluva day. And it ain’t over yet.

  When we pull up to the residential structure fire, we know the water tank inside the fire engine is almost empty. We’re all covered in soot and sweat from a longass day, exhausted, barely sat down after battling a tough-as-hell blaze before we got dispatched once again. I swear this job’s all-or-fuckin’ nothing. We’re bustin’ our asses or we’re cracking off-color jokes over pizza back at the station.

  At least this one ain’t bad…yet. Depends on your definition, I guess. I don’t see flames from outside but the smoke is dark and thick and if it isn’t contained very soon, the fire could threaten other homes. Other lives.

  I jump down and immediately get to unraveling the hose. One of our rookie firefighters looks at me, puzzled, and then at the fire hydrant blocked by a goddamn Volkswagen Jetta. I give a wry smile, just before I shatter the car windows and thrust the heavy hose through the front seat.

  “You can do that?” Rookie says, wide-eyed. Poor guy’s seen a lotta shit today. Just looking at him gives new meaning to the words trial by fire.

  “What am I gonna do, ask around? ‘Hey anyone here drive a Volkswagen Jetta? Wanna move your vehicle so we can fight fire?’” I chuckle, sardonically, and attach the hose.

  “Hey!” Now there’s a high-pitched squeal I don’t believe belongs to our unit. “That’s my car!”

  Ah. This should be fun.

  “Stay back!” I holler, without turning to look as I jog toward the home and unleash all one hundred fifty pounds per square inch of water pressure. I hear the woman yell obscenities at me across the street, or maybe she’s closer behind my back, it’s hard to tell with all the chaos.

  I just focus on delivering water, giving the trapped homeowner and my men running into the building a fighting chance against the flames.

  Good thing we got here as soon as we did. A little black smoke quickly becomes a massive blaze assailing the home. Rookie has something like iron balls, the way he runs inside with the rest of our unit, zero hesitation. Orange flames eat through the walls, hissing, and ravaging the façade, and then with a low groan, the roof starts to splinter and cave. My hands strain gripping the hose as if the effort of squeezing harder will make any difference in hell.

  Unbearably last minute, Rookie emerges first, holding the woman who was trapped inside. My lungs compress around a sigh of relief.

  “Oh my god!” the owner of the car I smashed shrieks from behind me. Almost forgot ’bout that one. I smile, relieved, as the rest of the unit quickly follow after Rook, all of them covered brows-to-boots in coarse black soot. That’s gonna be a bitch to clean.

  The flames recede, along with our strength. The smoke goes skyward. I let out a tired breath. I wind up the hose.

  “Nicely done.”

  I turn to the now-soft kitten voice, and my breath knocks loose from my chest. Hot damn, didn’t expect her to be a knockout! Don’t know what I expected. She’s got long honey-brown hair and big bright blue eyes. A luminous smile and curves that are soft and make me hard.

  “Outta my way, Jetta.”

  “I’m not in your way.” Not physically, no. But damn if she isn’t the worst kind of a distraction. She’s got nerve too, walking all the way up to me by the fire engine and touching my shoulder to get my attention. “Wanna tell me what I’m supposed to do with this?” She arcs those pretty blues from my face to her car. Bit of carnage. Glass everywhere. I’m not obligated to help her out. But, shit.

  “How ’bout parking someplace else?” I bite back. “Anyplace else.”

  “I was right there. You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve moved it!”

  “Did you not just see how fucking close we came?” I rack the hose and turn all the way on my heel to pin her with a warning look. “We didn’t have a second to lose. We often don’t.”

  “I-I…” She looks down at her feet, folding her hands low by her hips—nice, curvy hips—and my own fingers itch to reach out and touch her face, her hair. Those luscious tits.

  “You have a bad day at work,” I grouse, releasing the day’s frustrations on her, “you go home and bitch to your boyfriend.” She glances up at me with fresh hardness on her face. I don’t really blame her, I’m being ass. I go on, “We have a bad day at work, people die.”

  She casts her gaze away, then back to me again. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Ah, fuck. I scrub my hand down my face. So she made a mistake. It happens more than it should, people unaware or unconcerned where they park. But she doesn’t seem like an actual jerk.

  I lower my voice. “S’alright.” I’m already irritated how she instantly has this effect on me. Subduing me, or something. Torturing me.

  “My car…”

  I shrug, ceding to her already. “I have a buddy who’ll get you fixed up. Wait here with me? We’ll take your Jetta when this gang leaves.”

  “Wow. Really?” Her eyes soften. “Who is this guy?”

  “Owns an auto body shop downtown. Kyle. He’s got my truck anyhow, dropped it off coupla days ago for an oil change. I’ll call him after this crew heads out.” I motion toward the exhausted team.

  “Okay, sure. That’ll be great!” She smiles warmly and my heart does a hard flip that sends heat straight to my dick. “Thanks…Firefighter.”

  Christ. What am I doing?

  “Eh.” I shrug. “It’s part of the job.” Not really, but I’m feeling obliged. And horny as all get-out. If the drive over means fifteen, twenty minutes alone with her, fuck yeah, I’ll help her out. “Gimme your keys.”

  “I can drive.”

  “I don’t think so, honey. I always drive.” She looks at me sidelong then fishes her keys out of her purse and hands ’em to me. “What should I call you, ma’am?”

  “Hm?”

  “Your name.”

  “Miranda.” She shakes my hand. I hold on for a few heartbeats longer than needed. She lets me.

  “Beautiful name. Mir-an-da.” Aw-yeah, feels good on the tongue. “I’m Jason.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Jason.”

  The pleasure is most definitely mine.

  Three

  Miranda

  Holy Hot Firefighter! Smokin’-hot! Smoldering…dangerously. The fact I’m seriously horny and sooo single right now is very bad news for my good judgment and inhibitions. And isn’t it a crying shame. Can you imagine if I didn’t just break up with my loser boyfriend? I mean what are the odds?

  Jason’s friend, Kyle, is friendly and accommodating in a rough-around-the-edges, wouldn’t-wanna-make-enemies-with-him, kind of way. He’s good-looking too, and I’m surprised how clean he is, for a mechanic. I can’t say the same of my firefighter chauffeur, who’s in desperate need of a bath but I’d lick every square inch of him anyway.

  The Wylder Bluffs Auto Body is a little backed up. Great for Kyle. Bad for me. He says it could take several days, maybe longer to fix the windows. VW parts take longer to come in. Sigh. Gotta love owning a German car.

  “Can’t you move her up the list, bro?” Jason says, giving his buddy a look that adds, favor for a friend? It makes my heart skip like I’m in high school again. Does this mean he likes me? Like, likes-me likes me?

  “Wish I could. It’s outta my hands.”

  “How ’bout a loaner?”

  “Next one’ll be returned in a coupla days,” Kyle says, apologetically.

  Jason nods. “Ah, well.” He turns to me. “You’ll have to just come with me.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll take you home.” He cants
his chin toward his giant northsky-blue Silverado parked out front.

  Doesn’t he have to get back to the station? Can’t I just call an Uber? Why is he troubling himself for me?

  Pro-Tip: When a hot firefighter proposes to spend more time with you… don’t ask questions.

  Our chemistry on the ten-minute drive here was already lit. And all I want now is more of that. “Okay.” I smile, primly at him.

  “You’re in good hands,” Kyle says, then heads back to work.

  “Does this mean you’re my official chauffeur?”

  Jason lays his arm over my shoulders like it’s the most natural thing, meanwhile sparking renewed heat in my core that buzzes through every erogenous zone. He smells like engine oil, mint, and man. My heart does a cuckoo dance inside my chest.

  “Well I’m officially off duty.” He smirks, holding me close as we walk to his truck. Wrecking my clothes and self-control. “For the next forty-eight hours, I’m yours.”

  And… after that?

  #

  Jason starts driving back the way we came. “I assume that was your house, across the street?”

  “Nope.” I type my address into the nav. “Sorry. It’s kind of on the other side of town.”

  To my surprise he doesn’t seem at all affected by the inconvenience. “No problem, sweetheart.” Oh I should be so offended when he calls me that. I’m not though. Instead butterflies take flight in my belly and I hold back a smile.

  Jason makes a U-turn. “What were you doin’ all the way that way?”

  “That was…um, my boyfriend’s house.” We stop at the only red light in downtown Stanbery as we pass through the little mountain town, and Jason turns a look on me like he’s more than confused by my reply. Is that a hint of…disappointment?

  “Ex-boyfriend,” I amend. “We broke up. Actually like five minutes before you pulverized my car.” This time I really smile.

  “Only the windows.” The light reflecting off his face changes from red to green. “Why’d you break up?”