Smokin' Hot Firemen

by Delilah Devlin, Jo Davis

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Introduction

  Foreword

  SMOKING STILETTOS

  SAVING CHARLOTTE

  HOOK ME UP

  BIG TRUCKS

  LOST AND FOUND

  TEMPERATURE RISING

  UNEXPECTED DETOUR

  RESCUE ME

  CHASING FIRE

  STOKE

  SOMETHING’S BURNING

  FIRE HAZARD

  THE FIREMAN’S RESCUE

  FALLING ASHES

  FIRE EXTINGUISHER

  HER HERO

  JOHNNY BLAZE

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ABOUT THE EDITOR

  Copyright Page

  INTRODUCTION

  Dear Reader,

  When I was asked to tell you what I find so very special about firefighters and why I chose to write about them, I was thrilled. Firefighters rank number one on the list of my very favorite subjects, and I’m more than happy to reveal exactly why they never fail to get me all steamed up.

  Firefighters command respect. Just mention firefighters or speak of one you happen to know, and you immediately have everyone’s undivided attention. Better yet, let one enter the room and feel the shiver, watch folks stand up a little straighter, as the unspoken thread of respect winds around every single person present. Everyone wants to be near them, to hear what they have to say.

  Firefighters are courageous. In the event of a disaster, firefighters represent our best hope when all seems lost. They are our real-life superheroes. They are fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, husbands, or wives. They put their lives on the line for you and me without sparing a thought for their own. We cheer when they succeed and we mourn for those who don’t go home. Firefighters are a slice of Americana, dynamic men and women who represent the heart of what makes our country so great. When everyone else is running away from danger, they run straight into it to save us. No matter the cost.

  Firefighters are damned sexy. May or December, tall or short, fair or dark, these men make my blood boil in the best way possible. There’s just something thrilling about seeing a fireman in his turnouts, sweaty and satisfied from accomplishing a job well done, or wearing his department T-shirt on the way to the gym, muscles on glorious display as he turns every head. Firemen are quite simply divine. They should come with their own “contents under pressure” warning label!

  Is it any wonder I adore them? I’ll shamelessly admit that I’d love to have a fireman of my very own to heat up my bed and warm my heart—to make me feel like I’m the most treasured gift in his universe. Barring that miracle? I’ll simply live vicariously and read all about their brave, gorgeous selves, and I invite you to do the same.

  So don your gear, make yourself comfy, and get your fire hose ready in case these guys get just a little too hot to handle—you’re in for a five-alarm treat. Enjoy!

  Jo Davis

  National bestselling author of these series:

  The Firefighters of Station Five

  Sugarland Blue

  Armed and Deadly

  FOREWORD

  I’m writing this little introduction in the middle of a scorching summer. With no rain for more than a month, trees are wilting, grass is burned to a crisp, and fire is an ever-present worry. Every time I click the TV remote, images of fires sweeping across the Western states drive home the lurking danger.

  One spark can end a life, destroy a home.

  Images of firefighters dressed in their bulky gear bombard me. They dig deep trenches and cut timber in forests, preparing breaks to halt fires from sweeping through rural communities. Their chutes billow around them as they fall through the air only to land in places most sane folks would flee. They speed through city streets, jumping from their big trucks, carrying hoses and axes, to enter buildings engulfed in flames, risking their lives to save ours.

  Heroes don’t just fight in far-flung deserts; they live in our neighborhoods and fight the battles we aren’t prepared to wage.

  Just the mention of the word “firefighter” inspires a jumble of sexy images: a soot-covered face; sweat dripping from hard, chiseled muscles; the sexy snap of suspenders—yes, only a fireman can make suspenders sexy!

  Then imagine the romantic possibilities of being held against that massively muscled chest by a man whose mission is to save lives—a physically powerful man in his prime whose instincts are honed to rush into danger...

  Melting yet? You will be.

  Delilah Devlin

  SMOKING STILETTOS

  Rachel Firasek

  The metal door leading into the garage slammed against the concrete, startling me from my tears. “Ooh, he’s really pissed.”

  “Climb in back and stay down.” Derek, my husband’s best friend and my almost-always savior, opened the driver’s-side door and lunged to the ground.

  He didn’t bother shutting it behind him. One of the fire trucks was still drying out front after being hosed down, so I had an opportunity to watch the two men.

  “Hey, Matt. What’s up?”

  I peeked over the back window sill from the rear seat and winced at the red ring climbing up my husband’s throat. Soon he’d resemble a tomato. Not good for a man on the cusp of high blood pressure at thirty-five. Even if he did irritate the hell out of me, I wanted him to have plenty more years on Earth.

  Matt flexed his shoulders. “Don’t. Where is she?”

  Derek held both hands up, palms cupped like he might need to catch hold of Matt when he came at me. And he would. Oh, not in a violent way—no, not my honey. But he would make me pay.

  “What did she do now?”

  Matt pulled his shaggy hair back, revealing a thin bleeding cut above his temple. “She threw a fucking designer stiletto at me. Cut the shit out of me. I’ll probably have to have Doc look at it before I go on duty.”

  Derek’s chuckle echoed in the empty garage. “Damn. What did you do?”

  Matt shrugged, and a dimple formed beneath the right corner of his lip. He hated that dimple, but I thought it was the cutest thing ever.

  “Nothing.”

  “Matt?”

  “What?” Matt blew out a deep breath. “So I told her about the Twenty-Fifth Street fire. She overreacted and kicked her foot at me. I don’t think either of us expected her shoe to fly off, but it did.” He snorted. “While I’m on the floor, holding my eye, she darts out the damn door.”

  That was only half of our problem. I had overreacted, but he also knew that every time he came home and told me those horrible stories about burning bodies and devastating destruction, I saw him taking the place of the people he saved. When he was on the night shift, I woke up in cold sweats, worrying. I missed appointments—and as an assistant at one of the most prestigious law firms in Manhattan, I couldn’t afford the distraction. I found myself skipping dinner, worrying over that call.

  So when he came home to tell me yet another of those stories like running into an inferno was just another day at the office, I lost it. He couldn’t really blame me for that.

  Derek hung his head, his shoulders shaking with a deep rumble of laughter. “That’s why she only had one shoe!”

  “I knew she’d run to you.”

  My friend and savior had ratted me out. The bastard. “Derek, you are so dead to me.”

  Both men glanced toward the truck. Shit! I scooted across the backseat, flipped the handle, and half-slid, half-rolled to the ground below.

  Derek’s voice rose over the fire truck I’d used as my hideout. “Sorry, sweet angel, you did this all on your own.”

  The metal door leading to safety slammed shut and someone flipped the lock. Damn, I hated not being able to see.

  “
You can come out now, Red.” Booted feet carried the words to the right, toward the cab of the truck. “There’s nowhere to run and no one here to save you.”

  I reached down and pulled my remaining stiletto from my foot. Yes, I still wore it. The cabbie who had driven me to the station hadn’t believed it either. I clutched that polka-dotted fave in my fingers and began to climb. The cold metal step carried me up to the deck with all the lines. I placed my toes on a hose coupling and pushed up, climbing the side of the truck as if my very life depended on it.

  Matt veered around the corner of the truck and shouted, “Get your ass down here before you fall.”

  Yeah, not really the love I needed to coax me back down. I tossed my remaining shoe in his direction and kicked a leg over the top railing that kept the hoses in place above the tank. A black tarp draped across them kept me from slipping in the grooves. “You stay back and cool off, Mathew.”

  He placed his hands on his hips. “What now? Where you going to go?”

  I glanced around. Damn, he’d cornered me after all. “Please,” I began. He twisted his lips in that way he had when he didn’t believe my pleading. “I mean it, baby. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, you are not getting off that easy.” He stepped up on the cab, wedging his boot against the back of the truck, and lunged up.

  Christ, he could climb this thing much better than me. I shrieked and scrambled across the tarp. My knees screamed at me as the stretched fabric scraped them raw. “Ow.”

  A warm hand caught my ankle before I could climb over the other side. “Nuh-uh. Gotcha.” He tugged and flipped me to my back in one smooth move.

  My chest heaved, precious air wheezed down my throat, and a huge body pressed down on my poor, deprived lungs. “Oomph.”

  “Yeah, I should give you worse than that, brat.” He stroked my hair away from my face and used his elbows, tucked close to my ears, to lift his weight away. “Calmed down now?”

  I nodded, but frantically searched the area for a weapon. He’d never get me to really admit defeat. And have no doubt, that’s what this game was about. I bucked my hips against him. “You can get up now.”

  “Nah, I like where I’m lying just fine.” He wedged a knee between my thighs and settled between. “Better.”

  Better for him. Sure. I already felt just how much better he liked it against my stomach.

  If I gave in to him now, he’d continue being the hero and taking chances with a life I considered mine—his. “Look. We. Need. To. Talk,” I said.

  “Nope. Tried that, and I’m bleeding for it. Now we do it my way.”

  He dropped his head. His green eyes flared a half-second before his lips landed on mine. In a way only two people who knew each other could, we came together with an intensity that startled me. Heat flooded south and mewling whimpered from my throat. Damn traitorous hormones. A large hand trailed down my neck, lower, to the first button on my blouse.

  I reached up and caught his knuckles. “We can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “The guys in the kitchen. The fact that this is your job. I can keep going if you’d like.”

  That dimple peeked below his lip. “I don’t mind.”

  He scooted down, releasing buttons as he went. The zipper on my skirt scratched loudly in the silent garage. “Matt.”

  He spread kisses above my navel. “Shhh…you owe me.”

  Two tugs and my skirt wrapped around one of my ankles. I sat up.

  He caught my shoulder, forcing my back down, flattening me to the tarp. “Nope. You’re going to pay. I think your sweet honey will do.”

  Oh, no. When he got like this, nothing would stop him. I fisted my hands at my sides and promised myself he wouldn’t know how much his attitude turned me on.

  He caught my thong in his hand and, with one rip, freed it from my body. So fucking sexy.

  “Red, I think you’ve been bad. You hurt me. But I’m not going to hurt you. No. I’m going to remind you why you get so pissed. I’m going to show this body why you cry when I take chances.”

  His words hurt me deeper than he knew. I did cry, but far harder than I would ever actually share with him. Half of my tears fell out of guilt for wishing him home, and the other half for the fear he wouldn’t ever make it back.

  He dipped his head and bit my stomach just above my waxed mound. The sharp bite tugged at me, pushing away the thoughts cluttering my brain. The edges of those pearly whites slid down over my clit to catch onto the side of my labia.

  “Spread for me.”

  My legs reacted to his command as if he’d spoken to them instead of me. He wedged them further apart with his shoulders and lowered his mouth to my pussy.

  I felt the first shudder when he flicked his tongue against me. He added the soft abrasion of the stubble on his chin, and I shook.

  “Pull up your knees.”

  Again, I did it without any back talk. I even helped out by grabbing my thighs and holding them apart for him. We both knew I wanted this as bad as he did.

  He blew cool air against the damp trickle running down my crack, but didn’t give me what I wanted. Needed. “Please.”

  “You like it?”

  I nodded.

  “You going to be a good little wife and keep your shoes on your feet?”

  “Yes. Now. Please.”

  He bent forward, spread me with his large fingers, and attacked me with his tongue. The way I loved it. A finger joined in, and then two. When he thrust in three, I went over the edge, screaming his name and several other words we’d try to decipher later.

  I sat up, caught his ears, and tugged his face up toward me. His lips found mine, and I mewled again at the taste of me on them. He fumbled with his zipper and I worked a hand beneath his T-shirt. “Hurry.”

  It took a moment before either of us heard the siren. Doors slammed, men shouted commands, and Matt raised his zipper. “Sorry, baby. We’ll have to finish this later.”

  “What?”

  “It’s showtime. Get dressed.”

  Oh my God. We’d almost—no, we had—just had sex, sans penetration, on the bed of a fire truck in his freaking station.

  He helped me slip on my blouse and wiggled my skirt up my thighs while I lifted my behind off the covered hoses.

  Derek’s laughter drifted up. “Should have known you two would be at it like animals by now.”

  Once I was dressed, Matt lowered me over the side into Derek’s arms. “Take care of my girl for me. I’ll gear up.”

  Really? After that, he’d just go to work? “Matt, what? You’re not due to work for hours.”

  He shrugged. “But I’m here. Why not help out?”

  Derek pushed me forward with a gentle shove and whispered in my ear. “If you zip it and get in the truck, I’m sure we’ll be halfway there before he notices.”

  I twisted around. “Really? I can go?”

  He raised a finger to his lips and opened the back door for me. “In.”

  The fire blazed through a three-story apartment building, lighting up the darkened neighborhood. “Oh, boy.”

  Derek tugged on one of my red curls. “Look. You keep your sweet ass in this truck. Matt will kill me if something happens to you.”

  I nodded, having a hard time taking my eyes away from the fire. “Okay.”

  Matt followed in the second truck, and all of the men abandoned the safety of the cab to roll out gear and head toward the flaming beast attacking those innocent people’s homes. Police officers and other rescue professionals gathered the fleeing residents and ushered them to waiting ambulances.

  With all the commotion, I couldn’t wait. I hopped out of the truck and stopped at the curb. Matt’s shock of dark brown hair disappeared beneath a helmet moments before he rushed inside the burning building.

  My heart sped up and I sat down on the concrete lining the yard. The screams and cries of people watching their memories, hopes, and dreams crumble into ash filled the neighborhood.

  A small child s
at down beside me. I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. Soot covered the child from head to toe.

  “Hello.” I reached out and wiped at the dirt covering the face. “Are you okay?”

  “My mom’s in there.” Girl. She pointed toward a nearby ambulance. “She’s burned.”

  I stroked her back. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

  The child laid her head on my lap and shook in bone-jarring shudders. I waved at a passing helper carrying a stack of blankets and draped one around the girl’s thin shoulders. We waited together, watching the firefighters run in and out of the building, dragging bodies out on each pass.

  Hours flew by in a busy stream of people. They took the child’s mother away, but no one else had claimed the girl. I stayed, hoping I’d catch a police officer who could put her with a caseworker until her family could claim her. Surely someone would come soon.

  A helmet cracked against the street seconds before a big yellow leg dropped down next to mine. “Who’s your friend?” Matt’s healthy, sparkling eyes watched me with weary creases at the corners.

  “I don’t know. I covered her up and she went to sleep.” I stroked her hair. “They took her mom to the hospital a few hours ago.”

  Matt pulled off his gloves and rubbed a dirt-smudged hand against my neck. “You’re freezing. How long did it take before you got out of the truck?”

  “Not long.” The last few snaps and crackles from the fire kept me from really sighing in relief. We all knew the blaze wasn’t contained until all the hot spots had been doused. “Matt…all these people...”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  He rubbed at the tense muscles lining my shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He nuzzled his chin into my hair and placed a kiss against my head. “Shhh.”

  “No, I need to say it. All these years, I thought…I thought you did this for some crazy adrenaline rush, but seeing it up close…I…I’m so proud of you. What you’re doing here is important. They need you.”