Burnin' Up Memphis: Firehouse 69, Book 1

by Delilah Devlin

  Showing reluctance she didn’t really feel, she strolled slowly to the bed and accepted his guidance as he positioned her with her ass in the air and her face turned sideways against the mattress.

  The first slap was sharp and shocked a gasp from her. The next was harder and left fingerprints on her ass. She could feel each welt rise. Widening her legs, she tilted her bottom higher, inviting his punishment right there—which he gave her—a wet slap that struck her vulva, making her lips hot and causing blood to rush to fill them.

  She was swelling. Each smack elicited a squirm and a cry. Not that she wasn’t loving every second of it. Anton was thorough, making sure every inch of her folds was lovingly struck, nudging away the thin hood to flick her clit until it was hard and bulbous.

  He pinched around it, giving it a hard squeeze. “Have you learned your lesson?”

  “I have,” she said, breathing the words. “I swear I have, Sir. Let me come, please, please, please.”

  Something slid inside her clasping pussy. It wasn’t his own warm slick cock. He only rarely gave her the use of it. And only when she needed the comfort of flesh. This was thicker, harder, and it hummed.

  “No,” she said, raising her head and beginning to push upward.

  His hand landed between her shoulders and pushed her down again. The vibrator worked its way in and out, deeper each time it twisted inside her.

  She fisted her hands and clenched her eyes closed, fighting against the need to let go.

  When he’d plucked her clit with his thumb and forefinger, she’d screamed. “It’s too much.”

  But he hadn’t listened, plucking and tugging it while fucking her with the hard plastic dildo until her breaths seized and her body tightened. She’d flown, uttering an endless, “Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

  Even now, her skin and sex felt hot and ravaged. Used. A delicious vestige of their time together. How could she ever let that go? Anton knew her too well. With him, she was completely herself—silly or nasty, and sometimes a bratty bitch. A woman who needed punishment, needed a bit of well-aimed pain before she took her pleasure because she craved a deeper orgasm. Needed the pain to wind her arousal around and around her core before it burst in an explosive whirl. Vanilla sex, whether she rode or her partner did, didn’t come close to satisfying her need.

  No, she needed Anton until she found the one. Her ultimate Dom. Someone who could deliver the kind of pleasure she craved but could also fill all the lonely corners of her heart as well.

  Moira glanced at the pneumatic double doors of the ER. She had some thinking to do—about how she’d broach the subject with Coop. About how she’d recognize when the time was right—if ever it was—to tell him she already had a man in her life that she didn’t intend to give up until she found someone who could give her everything she needed.

  And oh, would he mind joining them for training?

  Chapter Four

  Coop waited in the parking lot, surprised at how excited he was. He’d been pleasantly surprised by his friends’ obvious delight in seeing him this morning. He’d missed a months’ worth of games, and yet they weren’t planning on making him wait on the bench for someone to tire before they put him in the game.

  He knew there’d be more than one set of raised eyebrows when his friends saw who he’d invited. They all knew Christa, and he hadn’t told anyone about her defection. And yet now he was bringing another girl to their family game?

  Saturday mornings were spent letting loose some steam on a playing field, a friendly-ish game of football, police versus firefighters. Losers provided the beer afterward.

  Everyone was already on the benches, stripping off hoodies and those needing knee guards sliding them on. The women were in their camp chairs, lined up along the field, gossiping or doing whatever it was women did when their boyfriends and husbands pummeled each other into the ground.

  A navy-blue Scion turned into the parking lot and slowly drove to the empty slot where he balanced on the curb. When her door opened and she stood, he gave her a wide, warm smile. Maybe he was overdoing his relief that she’d come, but he was too happy inside to hide it. There was just something about her. Was it only the newness, a chance at a fresh start to get things right this time? He jammed his hands into his pockets and tried to quell the warmth growing inside his chest. He was making too much of her being here.

  Still, it was hard resisting the urge to back her up against her car and kiss her. She was dressed in a Memphis Tigers tee over shorts with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore little makeup and flip-flops and looked utterly adorable.

  Without second-guessing himself again, he stepped toward her and gave her hug. “Glad you made it,” he said gruffly, liking the way she nestled her head against his chest. He tightened his arms.

  “You mentioned beer,” she murmured, sounding a little breathless. “I’m pretty easy.”

  Was he squeezing too tight? He let her go and stood back. Her gaze gave him a quick up-and-down sweep, and he was glad he’d worn new sweatpants and a clean tee instead of his holiest jeans or the shirt with the sweat-stained pits. Apparently, she approved, because the look she gave him when her gaze locked with his was filled with heat.

  Coop shook his head ruefully. “You can’t look at me like that.”

  Her head tipped backward. A playful gleam was in her eye. “Like what?”

  “Like I’m on the menu.”

  She arched one dark brow. “Think I’m hungry for something?”

  Blood surged into his groin and his cock twitched. “Stop that. I have to take the field in a minute.”

  “Nice to know you’re as effected by the sight of me as I am of you,” she murmured.

  Coop wasn’t accustomed to such open talk between men and women. Had assumed any ease of interaction would take a while. Hell, they’d just met two days ago. “Look. We don’t have to stick around after the game.”

  Her eyebrows waggled up and down. “Someplace else you want to show me?”

  “Something,” he quipped under his breath.

  Her delighted smile was another invitation.

  “Damn,” he muttered and pulled her close again. He tipped up her chin and kissed her, something he’d dreamed about doing just last night when he’d drifted off to sleep.

  Her lips were as soft as he’d imagined. With her breasts pressed against his chest, he lost all sense of where he was and who might be looking and gripped her hips, sliding fingers over her bottom to cup the generous globes and bring her against his lower body.

  When he lifted his head, they both panted.

  “I can feel how excited you are to see me,” she whispered, her cheeks turning pink, but she didn’t pull away. She gave him a nudge of her hips. “Why, Coop, you are full of surprises.”

  He shook his head and set her away. “It’s going to be hard enough to escape with everyone wanting to know who you are and where we met. Noah and Gage won’t say a word.”

  “Oh, that.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Tell them it was at the hospital. Make it easy.”

  He nodded. “You bring a chair?”

  “Just lift the back hatch.”

  Reluctantly, he left her and grabbed her chair from the car. Then he snagged her hand to hold as he led her to the field.

  Conversation didn’t stop, but they attracted plenty of stares.

  Her gaze darted to him. “Is this because they expected your old girlfriend?” she muttered under her breath.

  Coop nodded. “And because you’re beautiful.”

  Her mouth stretched. “Thank you.”

  Coop glanced to the side. Pansy was seated cross-legged on a blanket, her large belly prominent. He paused. “Since you two know each other already, will you keep her company?”

  Pansy’s grin was whimsical. “’Bout damn time you crossed to the dark side, Coop baby.”

  As he unfolded the chair and set it on the ground for Moira, he shook his head. “Not now,” he said softly. “And we just met—a
t the hospital.”

  With a warning glance at Pansy and a wink at Moira, he turned away. Laughter rang out behind him, and he couldn’t help the grin that stayed plastered on his face as he jogged onto the field.

  Moira met Pansy’s amused gaze and felt a blush creep across her face.

  “Well, you look like the cat who stole the cream.”

  Moira rolled her eyes. “Not yet, I didn’t.”

  Pansy’s gaze remained steady on Moira. “He doesn’t know about Anton, does he?”

  Moira sank into her chair and sighed. “We just met.”

  “At the hospital, I hear,” she said, giggling. Pansy had been at La Forge the night Billy’s friends had decided to visit, so she knew all too well exactly how Moira had made an impression on Coop.

  “I’m working my way up to telling him.”

  “Just because the guys accept Billy and Beau bein’ with me, doesn’t mean they’re all eager to find their own threesome.”

  Moira sighed. “I know. And he doesn’t seem like the type who would share.”

  Pansy wrinkled her nose. “That’s pretty sexy but damn inconvenient.”

  “And he doesn’t want complicated.”

  Pansy gaze narrowed. “He say that?”

  Moira nodded.

  “Out loud and firm like?”

  Again, she nodded.

  Pansy grunted and then pursed her lips, remaining silent for a minute. But then her expression cleared and a little smile curved the corners of her mouth. “I think the firefighter doth protest too much. Deep down, he already knows it’s gonna be all kinds of complicated or he wouldn’t have said a thing.”

  Exactly what Moira had been thinking, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. “I don’t like lying to him.”

  Pansy nodded. “He won’t forgive it.”

  “If I tell him about Anton now, it might be over before we even have a chance.”

  “Guess you have some decisions to make, girlfriend. Are you waffling? Will you really choose all or nothing? Or will you give up one for the other?”

  Moira blew out a long breath that billowed her cheeks. “You’re making my head hurt.”

  “Better get a beer,” Pansy said, pointing toward the ice chest holding down one corner of her blanket. “Enjoy it for me. They won’t even let me drink the non-alcohol kind.”

  Chuckling, Moira rose and squatted next to the ice chest. Her glance went to the playing field. The men were in formation, two lines of exquisitely muscled men bent toward each other.

  Coop was at the end, but he wasn’t listening to the quarterback’s count. His head was turned her way, his blue eyes smoldering. She pulled a beer from the chest and smoothed ice shavings from the can with an indolent stroke. Teasing him.

  He missed the snap. The opposing player plowed into him and he landed on his butt.

  “Spoilsports,” she said to Pansy but not really paying her any mind, “not letting you have a beer.” She watched as Coop jumped up, dusted the dirt from the seat of his sweatpants and ran to cover his quarterback.

  “What you need is a game plan,” Pansy said, laughter in her voice.

  “Sounds…complicated. Maybe I’m not supposed to get everything I want.” Maybe a strictly shallow sexual fling would be fine. Vanilla could be damn tasty.

  Something hit her in the side of the head, and Moira jerked to stare at Pansy who had wadded a tissue to toss.

  “Whatever.” Pansy crossed her eyes. “We are who we are. Simple as that. I wouldn’t be complete without my boys. They give me more love than I ever dreamed I deserved.”

  Moira wrinkled her nose. “I like Coop, and I think, if he was in the right place in his life, he might be the one. But I need a Dom.”

  “So Anton has to stay a part of the equation.” Pansy curved her hand over her belly and a funny look crossed her face. “It’s a damn three-legged stool,” she said, her breath hitching. “All three legs have to be equally supportive.”

  This time, Moira rolled her eyes. “You should hear yourself. Talking about us like we’re a piece of furniture.”

  “Okay, so my analogy was inaccurate since there are only two legs in the equation. But like I said, you need a game plan.”

  Moira took another long swig of her beer. “I don’t like the idea that I have to strategize. If this is meant to be, it should happen naturally, grow out of friendship and attraction.”

  “Honey, this isn’t mold. It’s a relationship. And traditional hetero kinds of guys have to be opened up to new possibilities. You can’t leave it to natural.”

  Moira shook her head, giving Pansy a one-sided smile. “How on earth did you get two hetero, traditionally minded guys to come around?”

  Pansy’s smile was very self-satisfied. Like a cat’s after licking at spilled cream. “I made them both fall in love with me. But I did have one advantage you don’t.”

  “What’s that?”

  Pansy’s gaze narrowed. “They both knew from the onset that they had competition for my affections. And neither of them was broken.”

  “Coop’s not broken,” Moira said, turning to gaze out onto the field. The prick of tears burned the backs of her eyes at the thought he might be.

  “Baby, Coop lost his best friend, a man as close to him as a brother, and since Christa’s not here, I’m assuming his girlfriend just walked out on him—not that I blame the bitch one little bit. One loss, he’d admit to hurting over. The other, he pretends doesn’t sting. When you have those sorts of emotions whirling around inside, there’s bound to be damage.” Pansy grimaced and leaned as far as her belly would allow toward Moira. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  Moira had to admit that the way Pansy spoke about Coop’s problems did dampen her hope. But then she caught Coop’s gaze as he jogged back to the huddle after another play. It smoldered with promise. And lust was something she could work with. She’d seen it often enough. Guys acted on their desires, but a smart girl knew how to work with attraction to slip under a man’s protective shell. Coop wanted her, and he was curious about what she might teach him, what she might allow.

  Anton didn’t have to be a problem, not if she could show Coop that having another man around, for at least as long as they needed him, wasn’t something weird or wrong. She’d have to be careful never to lie to him. If he asked her directly whether there was someone else in her life, she’d have to tell him.

  But it was Saturday morning, the first day of their first weekend together. They could take this slowly. There was no rush. She could ignore the heat already throbbing between her legs.

  Knowing she was lying to herself, she settled back in her chair and took another sip of her beer. The men standing on either side of the line of scrimmage were evenly matched and certainly a wonderful distraction from her worries. Another sip of beer and she relaxed. The ball snapped and the men surged together.

  The wonderful choreography, men working together in sweaty synchronicity—it was an erotically charged moment.

  She wasn’t the only woman there who noticed. Wives and girlfriends paused mid-conversation to watch as the play unfolded. Billy backed up behind his line of burly firemen. Coop and Noah rushed past the PD’s defense, going deep before turning to raise their hands.

  Billy sent the ball spiraling down the field, and Coop jumped into the air, tucked the ball safely against his belly and landed. Men rushed toward him and shouts passed from the sidelines to the field.

  “Get the lead out of your ass, Cooper! Go!” shouted a tall lean man in his mid-to-late thirties.

  Coop stretched his stride, but the handsome Mondo was only steps behind him.

  “Oh yeah,” Pansy said, beside her. “Mondo’s gonna go all master on his ass.”

  Moira shot her a glance and laughed.

  Pansy’s lips were pursing around a low whistle and she glanced Moira’s way. “I may be ready to pop a baby, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the man candy.”

  Moira lifted her bottle in a
greement. When Coop crossed into the end zone but Mondo plowed into his back anyway, she shot to her feet, hissing and booing.

  Beside her, Pansy cackled. “Yeah, you’re gonna fit in just fine, baby girl.”

  With a laugh, Moira turned back just in time to catch another of Coop’s steamy looks as Mondo reached down to help him up. Lord, there was so much promise in his expression no one could doubt exactly where this date with Coop was headed.

  She fanned her hot face, her glance falling away. She really ought to tell him. Be up front. Coop might not give a damn. He thought this was going to be uncomplicated, that she understood this wasn’t leading to some love connection. Maybe he wouldn’t mind that she had another man friend she was intimate with.

  Staring back at him as he once again brushed the dirt off his ass, she could no longer ignore her body’s reaction. She was fully aroused. Nipples peaking against her tee. Her crossed legs sawing up and down. Fuck, she had to have him.

  She’d tell him after. Because she knew the moment they were alone, there would be no talking. No time to reconsider or retreat. Watching him watching her, she knew she’d be lucky to make it out of the parking lot before they fucked. Something that made her smile stretch slowly across her face.

  “Snap out of it, Cooper!” A rough hand shoved between his shoulders, but Coop still didn’t break his gaze with Moira.

  Noah rammed his shoulder against Coop’s. “Damn, guess you won’t be coming for beer after the game…”

  “Huh?” At last, Coop dragged his gaze away and followed Noah back to the line.

  “Beer. At O’Malley’s.”

  Coop gave a shake of his head. “I have plans.”

  “Bet you do.” Noah arched his brow as he glanced over to the sideline. Coop followed his gaze. This time, Moira was turned toward Pansy. The women had their heads close together. Couldn’t be a good thing. He’d heard Pansy was a bit of an instigator.

  Before, he hadn’t been sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. Listening to Billy’s and Aiden’s chuckles when they talked about her always made him uncomfortable, because he’d known, even before Billy had come out, that their conversations would lean toward more intimacy than he thought was appropriate with another man. He’d thought of it as locker-room talk, which he’d never understood. Men talking about their conquests. He’d always tried to show more respect for himself and his partners. Another lesson he’d learned from his dad.