Smokin' Hot Firemen

by Delilah Devlin, Jo Davis

  A glance through the glass shower door caught her reflection in the mirror. Wet hair tangled and wild-looking. Standing on her toes, legs spread. One hand supporting the showerhead striking water between her legs, the other plucking a taut nipple. She moaned, catching her lower lip with her teeth.

  Inside, the pressure mounted, demanding release. Her breaths came in shallow, rapid pants. A hard jet of water hit her clit. Her body jerked in response. Finally, the building internal heaviness overflowed. A sense of dizziness swept through her. Shocking white lights flashed behind her closed eyelids.

  Her body too overwhelmed to take more stimulation, she jerked the showerhead away. Quake after quake rattled through her system until she was limp with sexual release. She replaced the showerhead into its holder and let the water wash over her sated body until she could stand without holding onto the shower wall. She stepped from the shower.

  Gracie licked the water droplets from Bree’s legs.

  “Stop it,” she demanded as Gracie’s tongue tickled behind her knee. Now, if the guy next door wanted to do that...

  Bree sighed and reached for the wineglass on the sink. Just as she lifted it to her mouth, she heard a loud crash and shout.

  “Aw, shit. Fire!”

  Intrigued, she stepped to the bathroom window and shoved it open. She looked in the direction of the roar—her backyard—and spotted a six-foot section of her privacy fence collapsing in roiling flames as the hunky neighbor in the adjacent yard ran for his garden hose.

  With a gasp, she grabbed a short pink silk robe off the bathroom door and hustled down the stairs. Grabbing the water pitcher off the counter, she filled it with water from the kitchen faucet and ran onto the patio. Intense heat slammed into her face, sucking the breath from her lungs as she neared the fence inferno. She tossed the pitcherful of water onto the fire, but the effort was like putting a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound. In the distance, she heard faint sirens. Thank goodness.

  Ronan Diamond looked up from today’s newspaper to observe the smoke filtering over his fence from the adjacent yard.

  The neighbor’s grilling again. He shook his head. Wonder how bad this time will be.

  During the month Ronan had lived there, he’d observed his neighbor attempting to grill on five different occasions. Snapping the newspaper back to reading level, he smirked at the volume of smoke rolling over the fence. The woman lacked the grilling gene.

  Ronan didn’t know his neighbor, but he’d admired her beauty and smokin’ hot body the couple of times they’d nodded in passing. Neither seemed to keep normal eight-to-five work hours. He’d meant to introduce himself, but between his job as lieutenant at the local fire department and personally building his dream house on Amerine Lake, he was lucky to squeeze in five hours of sleep a night.

  Hell. To be honest, he’d give up a few of those sleep hours for some commitment-free sex. At thirty-five, Ronan had had his share of girlfriends and lovers. When he’d gotten tired of being pushed toward marriage, he’d broken up with his last girlfriend. Sometimes the girl would do the dumping when she got tired of his work schedule. But either way, his relationships had all ended without a long-term commitment.

  The grill smoke turned from gray to black and he wondered which takeout delivery service would be arriving tonight. His neighbor’s pattern was to burn dinner and then order in.

  Smelling the smoke and pondering restaurants made his stomach growl. Ronan was a respectable cook. His job demanded it. Even though he’d put the vast majority of his household stuff into storage while building his house, he refused to live without his Calphalon cookware and Wüsthof knives. He’d picked up a filet of sole and fresh asparagus for tonight’s dinner. Since the fish needed about twenty minutes to bake, he pushed himself out of his chair and headed for his favorite room.

  After turning on the oven to preheat, he pulled out the sole to prepare it. While he had the refrigerator open, he grabbed a beer, cracked the top, and took a long draw. The cold brew cooled his throat as it rolled toward his empty stomach.

  He filled a double boiler to steam the asparagus, then oiled the pan for the fish. With a tilt of his head, he drained the rest of the beer and retrieved another. He downed half of it in one long gulp. When the beeper on the oven sounded, he finished his beer before putting in the fish to bake.

  Body still, he sniffed. Something was burning. Not a burned food smell. Burning wood. He sniffed the air again. Moving into the dining room, he glanced out his French doors. Then he slammed them open. Orange-red flames ate the wooden fence at the rear property line. Black smoke churned into the sky. A large section of the fence collapsed with a loud roar.

  “Aw, shit. Fire!” He snatched his cell and called 911 before racing outside for the hose curled at the side of the house. The fence was a total loss, but by using his hose he could keep the blaze from spreading.

  The wail of sirens broke into the crackle of burning wood. His station would be the responders. He blew out a huff of exasperation. He’d never live this down.

  Through the burned opening in the fence, Ronan eyed his grill-challenged neighbor holding a small kitchen pitcher. She wore a short, pink silk kimono that barely covered her crotch. Long, wet hair dripped down both sides of the robe, plastering the damp material to her full, lush body. When she turned to shush her barking dog, he got a nice view of the robe cupping the globes of her rear and an erect nipple saluting him through the now-almost-transparent material. His cock sat up and took notice of her bodacious body. He adjusted the crotch of his cargo shorts.

  Throughout the twenty minutes involved for his guys to extinguish the fire and complete the fire report, his neighbor kept tugging at the robe as though pulling the edges closer would somehow maintain her modesty. Instead, each tug hiked up the hem a fraction of an inch. A few more and they’d all know if she was a natural blonde or not.

  Bree looked at her grill lying in the mud by the fence. Its legs collapsed, wet coals spilled in the black, burned grass next to the remnants of the fence. Now that the guys were gone, she had to admit to being embarrassed—first, she’d started a fire that burned down a fire lieutenant’s fence. Then she’d stood outside with a group of firemen in a short robe that stuck to her wet body like a second skin. She could have been naked and the men would have seen her body just as well.

  “I hope you have insurance,” a deep male voice said.

  Her gaze jumped up from the mess in the grass into the angry grey eyes of her hunky neighbor. Not the way she’d planned on meeting him, but…

  “I am so sorry,” she said.

  “I’m sure,” he said.

  At the harsh tone in his voice, she flinched. “Really. I am so sorry. I never dreamed something like that could happen. I thought I was being careful to get the hot coals away from my house.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “So you’d only burn down your neighbor’s place?”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to burn down your fence,” she said defensively. When he didn’t reply, she added, “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Do you have insurance?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then it’ll replace the fence, but that’s not the current problem.”

  “Oh?”

  “My dinner is now overcooked and ruined.”

  She cringed. “Please, let me do something to make up for this mess.”

  “Really? You want to make this up to me?”

  “Oh yes. Please. Nothing would make me happier.”

  “Fine. You can replace my dinner. Tomorrow night. You cook at my house—wearing exactly what you have on right now.”

  Bree’s heart skipped a beat. Her pussy throbbed. Arousal trickled down her thighs. “But…”

  He gave a careless shrug and turned to leave. “So you weren’t serious about making it up to me?” He took one step.

  “Wait.” Could this be happening? “It’s just that…”

  He turned and gave her that damned arched eyebrow
again. “Take it or leave it, honey. Makes no difference to me.”

  Behind her navel, her gut tugged with interest. He got two steps away before she said, “Okay.”

  “Be at my back door by six tomorrow night.” His gaze moved down, then up her body, eyes darkening with desire.

  Heat and lust flared inside. Her nipples pushed against the silk. She forced herself to not cross one leg over the other to stem the tide of creamy fluid gushing from her sex. She felt stripped naked. And heaven help her if she didn’t love it.

  “And,” he continued, “if you’re wearing anything other than what we’ve agreed on, I won’t answer the door and you can forget it.”

  As soon as his door shut, she hurried back to her townhouse and into the shower for another date with her massager.

  The next day, Ronan knocked off work early to pick up supplies for dinner, just in case his neighbor really did mean to cook. She’d shocked him yesterday when she’d agreed to his demand. His cock had grown so hard at the thought of seeing her in the silk robe and nothing else that he’d had to do most of his talking with his back toward her.

  Maybe he should have made her come last night, while she was still feeling guilty about his fence. He could probably have gotten laid without much effort. But he wanted her at his control through choice, not guilt. If she showed up tonight, especially wearing nothing but her robe—and he was thinking that was probably a big if—she was taking the next step because she wanted to. He wanted her naked, spread-eagled, taking him deep—in her mouth and in her pussy. With that thought he grew painfully hard.

  At six o’clock, a timid knock sounded at his patio door. He looked through the glass, saw the pink kimono robe, and unlocked the door for his guest. “You came,” he said.

  “I had a choice?”

  “You always have a choice.”

  She stepped inside and held her arms out to her side. “Per your request.”

  He raised his finger in the air and twirled it around. She turned in a circle. When she faced him again, he nodded his approval, although he suspected she wore panties tonight, when she hadn’t yesterday. He turned and walked into the kitchen, never checking to see if she was following. Her bare feet padded on his hardwood floor. He could smell her arousal. His body stiffened when her warm hand touched his shoulder.

  “Am I really here to cook dinner?” Her voice was soft, almost shy. “I’m thinking I’m not.”

  His blood flowed from his brain to his dick. He turned to face her. “I’m not very hungry.”

  “I’m starved,” she said. “But not for food.” She stepped close and ran a hand down the front of his shorts.

  His breath hissed.

  Closing her fingers around his cock, she said, “These shorts might be cutting off your blood flow and we can’t have that. Don’t you agree?”

  “I do.”

  She stopped him when he reached for the zipper. “Let me.” She unfastened the button at his waist and lowered his zipper.

  Dropping to her knees, she pulled down his shorts and leaned forward. Hot lips and breath caressed his straining flesh. He threaded his fingers into her hair to keep her face pressed to his shaft. Her long blond hair trailed down the sides of his calves. With her head bent, he couldn’t see the action of her mouth, but he felt her teeth as she scraped down his cock. He drew in a sharp breath. Reaching down, he pulled her to her feet and took her mouth in a hot, violent kiss. A mesh of tongues and teeth. Neither ceding control.

  The elastic of his briefs stretched away from his body. Her long fingers wrapped him in a silky embrace. His hips thrust against her palm.

  He pulled his mouth away from hers, moving his lips and teeth across her cheek and down her throat. He ran his tongue into the dip at the base of her throat, then traced a path back up to her ear to run the tip around the rim.

  She moaned and squeezed his cock. Her other hand joined her first to pull his briefs from his body and ease them over his straining penis. She didn’t have to push far before he stepped from them, leaving them on the floor beside his shorts.

  Jerking his T-shirt over his head, he tossed it on the pile and reached for the tie holding her robe. The silky material loosened easily. He shoved both hands onto her shoulders under the material and pushed the robe off. Underneath she wore only a thong.

  “I told you to wear what you had on yesterday, and lady, you didn’t have panties on. We can’t have that.” He reached into a drawer behind him and took out a sharp knife.

  Her eyes rounded and she bit her lip.

  Slipping his knife under the string at her hip, he sliced through. He repeated the motion on the other side. The scrap of lace stayed in place until she spread her legs; then it fluttered to the floor. “Better. Much better,” he muttered, and put the knife back on the counter.

  When he lifted her into his arms, she gasped in surprise. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Her tongue pushed its way into his mouth while he walked. When he stopped, she broke the kiss and looked around his living room. He let her legs slide to the thick rug.

  “Get on your knees,” he commanded in a voice thick with lust. When she didn’t move fast enough, he added, “Now.”

  She lowered to her knees. The beating of her heart was a marching band in her ears. Her thighs were coated with her own thick cream. Heart pounding, she licked her lips and waited.

  He sat on the sofa and spread his legs. “Come here.”

  She obeyed.

  “Take me in your mouth.”

  Her fingers wrapped around his thickness and she ran her tongue along the slit at the end, savoring his salty juices. Lowering her head, she put her lips over the fat head and slid down his length.

  He hissed. “Fuck,” he muttered.

  She almost smiled. Exactly what she had in mind.

  The plump head hit the back of her throat and she adjusted to allow him to slide into her throat. His fingers threaded through her hair as he wrapped his hands around her head. He held tight, forcing more of his long dick down her throat. She pulled back slowly, allowing her teeth to scrape the engorged veins. Her fingers tightened around the base and followed her mouth up, then back down.

  His breathing was choppy and rough. “Oh fuck,” he groaned. “Deeper,” he said with a thrust of his hips.

  She took all he demanded. Slipping one hand between his legs, she cupped his balls, rolling them between her fingers. Smiling, she pulled off his dick and wrapped her lips around one ball, ran her tongue across it, and sucked hard.

  His hips jerked. “Careful with the junk, honey,” he cooed. Bree continued to suck and fondle, moving her fingers to the area in front of his anus to stroke the soft skin there.

  With a groan, he slid forward to give her better access.

  She licked his balls and traced her tongue back up the underside of his cock to the tip. After circling the head with her tongue, she took him deep into her mouth in one long slide, her fingers stroking the soft skin behind his balls. Her own juices tickled as they ran down her thigh. She pulled her hand from him and put it between her own legs. Her fingers separated her folds as she tried to give herself some relief.

  Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her hand away. “Bad girl,” he said. “You’re being punished for wearing panties. You can’t touch yourself. You have to wait.”

  She pulled her mouth off his dick. “Bastard.”

  He laughed. “Oh hell yeah, I am.” He grabbed her head and pushed her face back down to his crotch. “Now finish what you started.” He stood, leaving her on her knees. “Open your mouth,” he demanded. When she didn’t, he grasped her hair and pulled her head back until their gazes met. “Open that beautiful fucking mouth, honey.”

  She smiled and separated her lips.

  He drove his dick deep and pumped his hips. She sucked with all the force she could manage. His fingers made fists in her hair, pulling the strands taut from her head. She slid both hands up the soft skin between his
thighs until she could cup his balls and stroke the area behind. She raked her nails across that sensitive skin, digging in just enough to be sharp but not painful.

  “Damn, woman,” he said in a huff of breath. “Damn.”

  His hip thrusts became faster and harder; she knew he was close.

  “I’m about ten seconds from coming,” he said with a hard slam. “You understand what I’m saying?”

  If she didn’t stop him, he would come into her mouth. She smiled and pressed the most sensitive spot behind his scrotum. He thrust one last time. Hot, salty liquid shot against the back of her throat. She swallowed and sucked his jerking cock as the stream of warm come finally slowed. With her tongue, she cleaned his flesh as he pulled from her mouth.

  He dropped heavily back onto the sofa cushions. “Damn.” His head dropped back onto a fluffy pillow and he threw his arm over his brow. “That was incredible.” He breathed heavily. “Fucking incredible.”

  “Thank you,” she said, sitting back on her heels.

  “Oh no,” he said with a grin. “Thank you.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Come here.”

  With a sensuous glide, she climbed onto the couch. He wrapped the arm that’d been over his face around her shoulders.

  She nuzzled his neck. “Now am I forgiven for burning down your fence?”

  “Honey, you can burn my fence down anytime.”

  She smiled into his neck. “I’m Bree, by the way.”

  Eyebrow raised, he looked at her. “Ronan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ronan.”

  He laughed and pulled her into his lap. “Nothing like a good neighbor, don’t you agree?”

  FIRE HAZARD

  M. Marie

  When I first smelled the smoke, I glanced toward the sliding glass door. Even though our apartment building forbade barbeques, with summer finally here, I was used to catching the faint smell of prohibited hamburgers and forbidden hot dogs from my neighbors’ balconies. The door was shut, though, and I saw no smoke in the air.