by Amber Delray
Falling for the Firefighters
Amber Delray
Copyright © 2015 Amber Delray
All rights reserved.
This story contains language and mature content intended for adult audiences only.
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"You're going to be the envy of every woman in town," Mrs. Taft said.
"What do you mean?" Rachel asked as she gave the landlady a check for the first and last month's rent.
"You have the most desirable view in Huntsville."
"Really?" The only thing Rachel could see out the window was an ugly building with a bright red garage door. "What's so special about that place?"
"It's the fire department."
Rachel stifled a groan. She imagined the sleepless nights that lay ahead when the fire engines roared down the street with their sirens blaring. No wonder the rent was so cheap here.
"I know what you're thinking," Mrs. Taft said, "but you don't have to worry. Huntsville doesn't have very many fires. You won't even know the station is there."
Rachel was doubtful. "So what's to envy about a view of the firehouse?"
"Tuesday afternoons," Mrs. Taft said with an enigmatic smile.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Just wait and see," Mrs. Taft said as she gathered up her purse and hurried out the door.
Great, I've got a kook for a landlady, Rachel thought, and started unpacking her moving boxes.
Two days later—when she'd forgotten about Mrs. Taft's nutty proclamation—Rachel heard the sound of loud voices and raucous male laughter from outside. She went to the living room window and peeked around the curtain.
A pumper truck was parked in the driveway across the street. Half a dozen firefighters were gathered around, armed with buckets and sponges.
Rachel's breath hitched in her throat.
In the heat of the afternoon, the men had stripped out of their white t-shirts. A gorgeous sea of half-naked bodies glistened with sweat as they washed their vehicle.
One man in particular caught her attention. His chest was broad, his jaw was square. He looked more like a rugged wilderness adventurer than a small town firefighter. As he worked his soapy sponge across the truck, a lock of his dark hair swayed back and forth on his forehead.
Rachel was mesmerized. She wanted nothing more than to run her fingernails down his chiseled pecs; to press her lips against the hard ridges of his belly; to tug his tight, form-fitting trousers down his hips so she could—
A knock at the front door brought her back to her senses.
"W-who is it?"
"Mrs. Taft, dear."
Rachel took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. "I'll be right there," she said.
The landlady breezed into the house and raised a curious eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay, honey? You look a little flushed." Her gaze wandered to the window where the curtain hung askew. A knowing smile spread across her face. "I see you've discovered Sexy Tuesdays."
Rachel blushed. "Do they wash their truck every week?"
"Like clockwork. Have you picked your favorite firefighter yet?"
Rachel twisted her toe into the carpet and shook her head.
"C'mon, dear, don't be shy." She gave Rachel a gentle nudge in the ribs. "Personally, I've got a sweet spot for Hank. He's a little chunkier than the other boys, but I'd give anything to be wrapped in those big strong arms of his."
Rachel confessed that she had a crush on the gorgeous man with the jet-black hair. She also took a fancy to the tall blond who sported the physique of a Norse warrior.
"Those two are eye-candy all right," Mrs. Taft agreed with a dreamy sigh. "Sadly, my dear, you've pinned your hopes to the wrong pair."
Rachel frowned. "Please don't tell me they have girlfriends or wives."
"If that was the case, you'd have a fighting chance."
"What do you mean?"
Mrs. Taft's voice dropped to a whisper. "The talk around town is that Tony and Sven only have eyes for each other. Although, no one's ever confirmed that rumor for certain."
Rachel's heart sank.
"Personally, it doesn't bother me in the least. Sometimes, when I'm feeling saucy, I like to picture Tony and Sven together ... doing it." She closed her eyes and gave a little shiver. "There's nothing hotter than two powerful men tussling with each other like a pair of wild animals. Sometimes I like to imagine Hank getting in on the action too."
Rachel coughed loudly when Mrs. Taft began to sway back and forth and moan.
The landlady's eyes snapped open. "But look at me, prattling on. I almost forgot why I came over here in the first place." She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of red wine. "I brought you a house warming gift, dear."
"That's so kind of you. Can I offer you a glass?"
The two women peeked around the curtain and sipped Merlot while they exchanged naughty observations about the firefighters.
"You should go over and introduce yourself," Mrs. Taft insisted.
"I look like a total mess. I've been unpacking boxes all day."
"You look lovely, dear. Those boys would give anything to have a pretty neighbor pay them a visit."
When Rachel continued to resist, Mrs. Taft grabbed the bottle of wine and filled the girl's glass to the brim. "Have another shot of courage and get out there. Help an old woman live vicariously through your adventures."
Rachel hadn't eaten anything all afternoon, so the drink went to her head faster than expected. Mrs. Taft's coaxing was relentless. Before Rachel realized what was happening, she found herself stumbling out the front door and across the street.
The summer air was thick with the smell of auto body wax and the musky aroma of sweaty men. Rachel felt unnaturally warm. Fear, desire and embarrassment churned inside her. The tiny bit of confidence she'd mustered in her living room diminished with each step she took towards the firehouse.
One by one, the men noticed her standing like a startled fawn on their driveway. Tony was the last to see her. As his grey eyes met hers, Rachel was unprepared for how handsome he looked up close.
"Hello," he said.
She opened her mouth to reply. A gulp was the only sound to come out.
"May I help you with something?" he asked.
Soapy suds trickled down the swell of his bicep. Rachel longed to reach out and wipe him clean so she could caress those sleek muscles.
"Excuse me, Miss," he said. "Do you speak English?"
"H-hello," was the only word she could muster before her mind went totally blank. A surge of panic rose in the back of her throat. The fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. Turning on her heel, she sprinted back to her house, leaving six confused firefighters in her wake.
"I'm such an idiot!" she cried as she threw herself onto the couch. "They probably think I’m a mental patient who escaped from the institution!"
"Stop being so hard on yourself, dear," Mrs. Taft said in a soothing voice. "Everyone gets a case of the nerves once in a while. Get back on that horse and give it another try."
Rachel sat up. "What! You think I should go over there again? After I made a fool of myself?"
Mrs. Taft nodded. "Make up an excuse that you left your stove on, and that's why you hurried away so abruptly. I'm sure they'll understand."
Rachel had no intention of returning. But even if she did, it was too late. The fire truck was backed into the garage, and Sexy Tuesday came to an end.
When the landlady left, Rachel reached for the wine. Three glasses later, the room began to spin. But so did the whe
els in her head.
Perhaps Mrs. Taft is right, she thought. If I don’t go over and make a proper introduction, Tony and the others will write me off as a total weirdo.
The more she drank, the more it seemed like a good idea. This time she vowed to be more prepared. She'd bring the men some of her special cupcakes to help break the ice. Wasn't that the best way to win a man's affections? Through his stomach?
Her preparations were rather sloppy because she'd never baked while drunk before. But the first batch of treats came out perfectly. She slid the second tray into the oven to cook, and went upstairs to run a bath. If she was going to return to the firehouse tonight, she needed to make herself look more presentable.
As she waited for the tub to fill, her thoughts were filled with images of Tony's sensuous lips, his powerful shoulders, his perfect six-pack.
The moment she climbed into the steamy water, her fingers began to wander. She imagined it was his hands trailing across her breasts. His hands vanishing between her thighs to seek out the soft folds of her sex.
Rachel took a big slurp of wine and rested the glass on the edge of the tub. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and let out a soft moan as she surrendered to her fluttering caresses.
*
A splintering crash filled the air. Rachel jerked upright. Her head was woozy with wine. Her thoughts were muddled.
Was she dreaming? She had to be. A fireman was standing above her, brandishing an axe. The bathroom door hung off its hinges behind him.
She recognized Tony at once, even though an oxygen mask covered his face. Those piercing grey eyes were unmistakable.
His words were muffled and indistinct. He put down his axe and scooped her out of the tub, cradling her naked, dripping body in his arms.
This sure is a vivid dream, Rachel thought. But I'm loving it!
She clutched his neck and snuggled closer.
Tony was running now—out of the bathroom and down the hall. Thick clouds of smoke were everywhere. Something foul was burning, and Rachel began to cough. Tony gripped her tighter as he headed for the stairs.
They burst through the front door and into the yard. In the driveway sat the freshly washed pumper truck with all its lights flashing. An ambulance was parked at the curb.
The fresh air brought Rachel back to her senses with surprising speed.
Oh my God, this isn't a dream! I'm really outside! And I'm stark naked! What's happening?
Tony placed her on a stretcher inside the ambulance. He tore off his helmet and mask. His hair tumbled across his forehead. There was no time for Rachel to dwell on how sexy he looked—she had to stop him from seeing her undressed!
She tried to cover her crotch and breasts, but Tony pulled her arms away and began a hurried examination of her body. "Where are you hurt?" he barked.
"Let me go!" she cried. The words were thick and mealy in her mouth. It was useless to struggle against the firefighter. His grip was too powerful.
"Where did you cut yourself?" he said. "You're bleeding all over."
"I'm what?" Rachel was thoroughly confused. She didn't feel injured, but when she glanced down at her body she gasped in shock. Her torso was streaked with rivulets of red. It only took her a second to realize what had happened. "The Merlot!"
Now it was Tony's turn to look confused. He grabbed a handful of gauze and mopped her breasts. When he lifted the material to his nose, a look of relief washed over his face.
"I must have spilled my glass in the tub," Rachel explained. "Now will you please give me something so I can cover myself!"
Before Tony could find her a blanket, Sven appeared at the door of the ambulance. "We found the culprit," he said, holding a charred object in his gloved hand. "A bunch of these were burning in the oven."
"Oh, no!" Rachel groaned. "The cupcakes!" She had forgotten about the second batch when she'd drunkenly fallen asleep in the bath. She hadn't heard the kitchen timer go off.
I'm such an idiot!
"One of the neighbors saw smoke coming from your window," Sven said. "Lucky for you, these were the only things to catch fire." He tossed the carbonized cupcake up and down like a black baseball.
Tony wrapped Rachel in a white sheet and escorted her back to the house. A blower had been left in the kitchen to help clear out the remaining smoke.
"Will you be all right tonight," he asked.
She nodded and stood awkwardly in front of him, very much aware that the generous curves of her damp body were clinging to the sheet. "I really made a mess of things today, didn't I," she said.
"It could've been worse," Tony replied. He put his hands on her shoulders and fixed her with his gorgeous eyes. "Will you promise me something?"
"Anything," she said in a breathless whisper.
"Never drink and bake again." He gave her a saucy wink before turning back to his fire truck.
The single flutter of his eyelash had electrified every nerve ending in Rachel's body. She closed the door behind him and sank to the floor. It didn't matter that she'd made a fool of herself in front of him twice in one day. She was more determined than ever to have him.
The next morning she swallowed a handful of aspirin to keep her throbbing hangover at bay, and finished icing the unburned cupcakes.
A smoky fragrance continued to linger in her hair, even after she'd bathed. With any luck, the firefighters would find the aroma alluring. She took one last look at herself in the hallway mirror, smoothed her skirt, and marched out the door.
There was no one working in the front office when she entered the station house. She wandered down the hallway. "Hello? Is anyone here?"
Tony and Sven were in the garage, organizing fire equipment.
With her face scrubbed clean, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she was almost unrecognizable. "I'm Rachel," she said. "From across the street. The girl with the flaming cupcakes."
"Of course," Sven said with a twinkle in his eye. "How could we forget."
Rachel had a sneaking suspicion that he was thinking back to her appearance in the ambulance the night before: naked and soaked in wine.
"What brings you here today?" Tony asked. "Not another emergency, I hope."
Rachel held out the container of vanilla cupcakes. "This is to thank you guys for saving me last night."
The men hesitated, and cast a dubious glance into the box.
"They're the unburned batch," she assured them.
Out of politeness, they each took one. Their first bites were tentative, but their expressions quickly changed.
Rachel couldn't describe the feeling of pleasure it gave her to see the two men tuck into her treats with such relish. With every mouthful they took, it was like they were eating a little piece of her.
"These are amazing," Tony said, finishing one and quickly reaching for another.
Rachel had intended the cupcakes to be shared with all the other firefighters. "Where's the rest of your crew?" she asked.
"They're out with the ladder truck, running some drills," Tony said.
"We drew the short straw and had to stay here on duty," Sven said.
Rachel was glad the firefighters were enjoying her cupcakes, but the sugary treats were monopolizing their attention. She hadn't dressed up today for nothing. Clearing her throat, she said, "Um, I don't suppose you guys could give me a tour of this place. I've never been inside a fire station before."
The men exchanged a look and grinned at each other.
"Of course, where are our manners," Tony said, wiping the crumbs from his succulent lips.
Rachel got to try on a helmet and a pair of big, heavy boots. She sat behind the wheel of the pumper truck and turned on the flashing lights. There was a part of her that felt like she was five years old again.
Sven took her upstairs to the bunk room so she could slide down the pole. Looking through the hole that led to the garage gave her a spell of vertigo. She was up higher than she realized.
"Maybe I shouldn't," she said.
/> "Go ahead, you'll be fine," Sven insisted. He put his hands on her hips and guided her closer to the opening.
Rachel was all too aware of the press of his body, and the intoxicating fragrance of his cologne.
He leaned down and placed his mouth close to her ear. "Once you ride the pole, you'll be dying to try it again and again," he said.
She gave a little shiver. "Okay, tell me what to do."
"Just grip it lightly and let it slide between your legs. It's as easy as anything."
"I'll be here to catch you," Tony said from below.
Rachel took a deep breath and stepped into the abyss. She slid to the bottom faster than she expected. The combination of her nerves and the lingering remains of her hangover sent her reeling.
Tony caught her in his arms as she stumbled forward. "Easy there," he said. "Everything's all right."
His resonating baritone voice stirred something primal within Rachel's belly. She didn't want him to let her go. To her delight, he didn't. Her heart raced as he pulled her even closer.
"I haven't stopped thinking about you since yesterday," he said in a husky whisper. His rough fingers reached up to stroke the line of her jaw.
She trembled beneath his touch.
His first kiss was gentle, and tinged with the sweet taste of icing sugar. But a desperate urgency quickly overcame him. His tongue swirled against Rachel's in a hungry dance.
Grabbing her ponytail in his fist, he tugged her head back. She arched into his body, feeling his stiffening cock as it pressed against her belly through his pants.
His mouth traced a sensual path down her throat. The tip of his tongue flickered at the soft, sensitive skin at the base of her collarbone.
Rachel moaned as his fingers moved to her cleavage. He opened her blouse, one slow button at a time.
Sven was behind her now. He'd slid down the pole as silent as a cat. Goosebumps blossomed at the nape of Rachel's neck as the blond firefighter pressed his lips to her ear. His hands were at her collar, pulling her blouse down her arms. He unfastened her bra so Tony could continue his exploration of her body.
Rachel gasped as Tony cupped her breasts in his hands. His teeth found her nipples. A bolt of ecstasy shot directly to her clit as he nipped at the sensitive pink flesh. Her pussy clenched involuntarily.
