Table of Contents
Prologue - Hammer
Ember - Epilogue
Prologue – Nick
Epilogue
2 Firefighters Next Door
Blurb and Author’s Note
Hammer
Ember
Deuce
Bonus Story - Protection
Nicole
Nick
Keep in Touch with Jay!
Go Wild with Jay on Facebook!
Two Firefighters Next Door
A MFM Bad Boy Romance
Jay S. Wilder
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Two Firefighters Next Door
Copyright © 2017 Jay S. Wilder
All rights reserved
Contents
2 Firefighters Next Door
Blurb and Author’s Note
Prologue - Hammer
1. Hammer
2. Ember
3. Deuce
4. Ember
5. Hammer
6. Deuce
7. Ember
8. Hammer
9. Ember
10. Ember
11. Ember
12. Hammer
13. Ember
14. Deuce
15. Deuce
16. Ember
17. Hammer
18. Ember
19. Deuce
20. Ember
21. Deuce
22. Deuce
23. Ember - Epilogue
Bonus Story - Protection
Prologue – Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nick
Nicole
Nicole
Nick
Nicole
Epilogue
Keep in Touch with Jay!
Go Wild with Jay on Facebook!
2 Firefighters Next Door
A Dark MFM Romance
Jay S. Wilder
Blurb and Author’s Note
Hammer and Deuce
We shared the fire chief’s daughter the first time we met her.
Took her at the same time.
Now, we can't afford for our boss to find out.
Seeing her again can get us all killed, but it's too late to back off. We’re in too deep.
We played with fire. We’re bound to get burned.
Author's Notes:
- Two Firefighters Next Door is a standalone MFM menage romance that is all about the woman. There are no M/M scenes. This story is all about TWO hot, bad boy cowboys who fall for the same woman. There is no cliffhanger, and a happily ever after is guaranteed.
- A bonus story is included for your reading pleasure! This ebook also includes the full-length standalone bonus novel, Protection, so Two Firefighters Next Door ends at around 45%.
Prologue - Hammer
“We shouldn’t—” she starts.
“I know,” I tell her, pulling her backward through the open door of the empty training room I walked by before seeing her.
I slide my hands up her arm, letting one travel past her shoulder to the base of her neck. Her skin is so soft against my rough, callused fingers. Every part of me wants a repeat of our first time, urging me to take control and show her the kind of pleasure she should be able to enjoy every spare chance we get.
Pulling her closer, I hover my lips close to her ear. “We shouldn’t, but we will,” I rasp against her skin, and she moans out an uneasy, shallow breath of air.
My guess is she’s been waiting, hoping for this for just as long as Deuce and I have been trying to avoid her. Struggling under the weight of an attraction none of us can deny for much longer.
Ember’s breath pushes against the base of my neck. “Hammer,” she murmurs.
I brush my lips against that spot on her neck just below her ear, not caring that we’re taking a huge risk right under her father’s nose. “What?”
“We just…can’t.”
“Don’t stand there and tell me you don’t feel this… this…whatever this is.” I’m past the point where I care about anything but taking her for myself. “We want the same thing.”
“It’s too risky.”
“I don’t care anymore. No one has to know.”
“They will if they find us like this.”
“Listen to me. You’re going to come by tomorrow morning, the second Deuce and I get off our shift. And you’re going to let us pleasure every square inch of you, and take turns fucking you…then we’ll take you hard at the same time…over and over… until we’re all exhausted.”
“But I—”
I cut off her words as my lips meet hers for a fierce, overpowering kiss that lets her know I won’t take no for an answer. It’s as real as ever, a taste of what’s going to happen.
1
Hammer
“It’s five miles to the last rest stop before we hit Reno-Sparks,” says my best friend and longtime firefighter co-worker, Deuce. He’s riding shotgun, pulling his weight as the navigator in my SUV’s prime seat. Deuce has been damn good company, but it’s not enough. This trip is like one of those bad dreams you think you’ll never fucking wake up from. The kind where you’re stuck in a car with miles and miles of road stretched out in front of your tires. You can’t quite remember where you’re going or how long you’ve been traveling. You can’t figure out why you started the fucking trip, to begin with.
Okay, I’m exaggerating a little. This moving trip’s not that much torture, but it’s fucking close.
I arch my back and stretch out my left leg to ease the stiffness in my body. The tingling running up and down the back of my calf subsides a bit, but it’s still there. I’m not even going to think of checking the time on the dashboard. All these hours in this seat are enough. Beyond that, it’s all the same: brutal.
The only consolation this last hour or so is that the radio’s picking up a decent country music station that Deuce found. We’re on the road because we have to be. My entire family, along with Deuce and his daughter, Sandy, are moving from Austin to the Reno-Sparks area, where my mother grew up. For Deuce, it’s been a few years in the making. His father’s a retired firefighter and was working his leads for a while to secure a transfer for Deuce.
For my family, if my mother were still alive, she would’ve inherited her grandfather’s cattle ranch when he died a few months ago. My older brother, Cody, me, and my younger siblings, Connie and Carter, all ended up being named as equal beneficiaries. The inheritance was all well and good, but no amount of effort worked to manage it remotely. And that was the strange thing. According to all the books, the business was profitable right up until my great-grandfather passed. All of a sudden, the place was bleeding money. It didn’t fucking add up, which is why Cody and I agreed that it was best to move the family out west. It took some time, but a few weeks ago, Deuce’s father came through for us. We jumped at the chance to be firefighters with the Reno Fire De
partment.
In the seat behind me, my son, Logan, lets out a groan and rakes his fingers through his dark blonde hair. “Are we there yet, Daddy? It’s so boring in here. And there’s no room to move in this small seat.”
“Quit complaining, kid,” Deuce tells him. “It’s an SUV, so it’s not small, just packed up a bit in the back. You know, you kinda sound like you’re four.”
“But I am four, Uncle Deuce,” he giggles, then turns to me. “Aren’t you tired, Daddy?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’ll whine about it like a little g—” I start to say, but cut the sexist reference just in time. I have no goddamned right to talk like this in front of the three females in the SUV with us. My daughter, Lacy, is Logan’s fraternal twin sister. She’s been seated in the same row as my son for this leg of the trip.
Deuce’s daughter, Sandy, also four, sits behind Logan with my younger sister, Connie. To get in on the conversation, she leans her head between the middle seats where Logan and Lacy sit.
“Are you two hungry?” she asks my kids.
Connie’s the closest thing my children and Sandy have to a mother. Logan and Lacy’s mother died when they were eighteen months old. Leukemia took her from us in the blink of an eye. Sandy’s mother, well, she’s a whole other story. She became dependent on drugs and alcohol less than a year after Sandy was born. Deuce had been through hell before he finally took Sandy and moved out. The woman practically abandoned her little one. Which is why Deuce and I have never been more committed to being the best fathers out there. Sure, our twenty-four-hour shifts as firefighters make things tougher. And I have to keep working on my filthy firehouse mouth, but I try.
“The food is so boring,” Logan continues to whine.
“We’ll be at the next stop in a few minutes, kiddo. Hang tight and have a bite of whatever your aunt Connie gives you.”
“But it’s all the same stuff! Juice boxes, animal crackers, baby carrots, and sandwiches. Lacy thinks so too, Daddy.”
Lacy looks at me through the rearview mirror and shakes her head. “No, I don’t. I like animal crackers. Can I have some more?”
“Meanie,” Logan grumbles, and stretches across their row, tapping one finger on her temple. He must have learned this in a cartoon or something recently, because I’ve never seen him finger-shove his sister. Punch, yes. Push, a lot. Finger-shove, never.
“Stop it!” Lacy shouts. She swats his hand away and makes herself smaller in her seat so he can’t reach her.
They say twins have an unbreakable bond, but for the most part, Logan and Lacy have a never-ending desire to step on each other’s last nerves. It’s not the only thing they have in common. With their identical hair color, same oval-shaped faces and hazel eyes, they call into question the scientific fact that opposite gender twins are fraternal and can’t be doppelgangers.
“If you two keep this up, I’m separating you for the last stretch,” I say as a reminder. “Your uncle Carter’s pickup truck is still behind us. It still has enough seats to keep you two apart…and quiet.” I point my right thumb back at my brother’s burgundy Ford F-150 following us on the interstate. Behind his vehicle is my older brother, Cody. He’s driving the moving truck and hauling his pickup truck behind it. Deuce had an old pickup truck, but he decided to sell in Austin so he can buy something new in Reno.
“It also still has Willie Nelson playing on repeat,” Connie points out.
“Don’t knock The Shotgun.”
In the rearview mirror, I see her roll her eyes. “It’s kind of hard to appreciate any song when it plays on the radio twenty times in one day, let alone one of the oldies.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and check the screen. It’s Cody.
“Hey,” Connie complains. “Eyes on the road, please.”
“It’s the brother who’s looked out for you for years. The one you’re dissing at the moment. Remember him?” I swipe the screen and press the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“Do you think there’s any point stopping for lunch when we’re this close?”
“Definitely. The kids need a break.”
“The next exit, then?”
“Yeah. Getting off now.”
“Great,” Cody says and hangs up.
Flipping up the right turn signal lever, I exit off the I-80, entering a little town east of Sparks called Lockwood, mere miles from our final destination. A gas station and truck stop are right off the highway. There’s an all-day diner too. Perfect. I turn into the wide driveway and find a tractor-trailer parking spot with enough extra spaces beside it for Cody and Carter.
The midday sun glints off of the unfamiliar piles of snow between the buildings and what’s shoved up against the back of the property. It strikes me in the eyes and makes me squint. We rarely get snow in Austin, but this kind of weather in a western desert town is still strange to me. Never mind that Reno and Lake Tahoe are known for their powder-like snow that’s ideal for skiing.
Cody steers the moving truck to my left, and Carter gets in on my right, taking a sharp turn that makes a crunching noise as one of the truck wheels rolls over a mound of ice.
“Watch it!” Connie shouts to warn him as she helps the kids out on my side of the SUV. “All our delicate stuff is back there.”
Carter ignores her, jumping out of the pickup truck. “Think they have chicken fried steak here?” he asks no one in particular.
“Not a chance,” Deuce answers.
Just the indirect reference to Austin makes my chest ache. We’ve barely left, and I’m already homesick. I unbuckle my seatbelt and catch sight of Cody, still sitting in his driver seat. His head’s hanging as he absently stares down at his lap. He gave up a lot to make this move. His bake shop, Cody’s Cake Corner, was his pride and joy. And he left Dina behind too. She was his off-and-on girlfriend, and wasn’t as keen to pick up and make a big move with him. The news that our oldest relative had died and left us the family cattle ranch came with its fair share of conflict. Cody has never said it out loud, but I know he’s not the most thrilled about the move. Connie and Carter were more excited about venturing into something new. Some might say that being in his thirties and financially set, Cody could have stayed back. But my older brother would never think of letting this family split up. The four of us have our differences sometimes, but we all agree on one thing. Family comes first.
No matter what.
My steel-toe boots hit the asphalt with a smack. Fuck, it feels good to stretch my legs. It’s also cold as fuck, but we noticed the chill as soon as we turned west off the I-95 at Fernley. The twins rush ahead of me with Connie, stopping at the front door to the diner. Cody ambles out of the minivan. He looks as sore as I feel.
“Only about another half-hour,” he says, widening his chest in an upper body stretch. “Maybe less, if traffic stays the same.”
“It’s the lunch hour on a Monday. Shouldn’t be too bad.”
He gives me a tight smile as he swings the diner door open. I can tell he’s anxious to get to the ranch and take stock of what the fuck is going on. And he’s probably missing his custom kitchen and all that baking instead of driving across almost two thousand miles over four fucking days. I’m grateful to have a job to walk into. Given that I have kids, stable work is mandatory. Carter and Connie have to start from scratch, but as Carter has a teaching degree in high school math, he can find a job anywhere all over again. Connie wants to open her own pastry shop one day, so she’s been working with Cody for years. And for now, she’ll help Deuce and me with the kids while we’re on shift.
We step inside and find that the interior is nicer than I’d expect for a mom and pop diner on the edge of an interstate in a small town like this. The vinyl booths shine like they were installed yesterday. The counters are clean, and the décor is bright. We settle into one of two side-by-side tables, and a waitress comes by to drop off our menus and take our beverage orders. The kids quickly entertain themselves using the coloring sheets and a
tub of crayons that the waitress drops off with our sodas and juices. Soon, our food orders arrive.
Because Deuce and I are firefighters, we only eat at one speed. Extra fast. We’re called to respond to emergencies in record time, so the habit of being ready to go is ingrained in us. It’s near impossible to shut off just because we’re not working. This meal is no different. Our plates are clean before Lacy has put her third French fry in her mouth. Cody’s had a third of his burger. Placing my paper napkin on top of my plate, I stretch out my legs under the table and lean back. We’ll be here for a while.
A few minutes pass, with light conversation about getting to the ranch, setting up the beds, and finally sleeping in. Deuce plans to live with his parents for a few weeks while he finds a house for him and Sandy. Cody and I steer the conversation away from anything financial, or about the state of the ranch. We don’t need everyone worried. Plus, the kids are around. Connie tells us she’s been looking online for a part-time gig in South Reno. Carter does his thing, talking about giving trail rides around the ranch during the summers when he’s not teaching.
Two Firefighters Next Door: A Bad Boy MFM Romance Page 1
