by Drea Riley
How Do Firemen Make Love?
by
Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara
“Jumpoff” by Shara Azod
The following characters are copyrighted and used with permission: Shara Azod by Shara Azod. RaeLynn Blue by RaeLynn Blue. Laura Guevara by Laura Guevara. Jeanie Johnson by Jeanie Johnson. Jayha Leigh by Jayha Leigh. Reid Randolph by Reid Randolph. Dréa Riley by Dréa Riley. Yazmin Taylor by Yazmin Taylor.
Copyright © February 2009 by Shara Azod, Raelynn Blue, Laura Guevara, Jeanie Johnson, Jayha Leigh, Reid Randolph, Dréa Riley, and Yazmin Taylor
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be produced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, or electronic transmission, without prior written permission from the authors. This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors’ imaginations and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental.
All of the characters are copyrighted by and used courtesy of the respective authors in this anthology.
Author’s/Authors’ Note:
Originally, this book was part of the Flame On!!! anthology. Each story has the same jump-off (a few pages that set the scene), but all are stand-alone tales.
Premise:
Women of such diverse, varied interests should balance each other out, making a vacation a safe, fun experience. Yeah, not so much with these chicks. Deciding that Las Vegas is the perfect place to get their shop on, their eat on and their adventure on, the Posse heads out. No one knew quite what to expect, but burning down a chunk of the Strip's most exclusive resort wasn’t it. No one—not even their attorneys, pastors, and other off-kilter friends—could have foreseen that. While the Las Vegas Fire Department (LVFD) conducts their investigation of the blaze and the women who started it, the Posse is treated to tempting views of the gorgeous firefighters putting out the blaze. For these women, talking their way out of trouble is as easy as the yummy specimens of the LV Fire Department are hard. Someone yells “CHALLENGE!” and before you know it, these hot authors are creating fantasies inspired by the kinds of fires the hard-bodied firefighters could ignite in them.
This story has connections to the following stories:
Inferno by Shara Azod & Raelynn Blue
Slow Burn by Reid Randolph
Blazing Passions by Yazmin Taylor
How Do Firemen Make Love? by Dréa Riley & Laura Guevara
Hadoken! by Jeanie Johnson & Jayha Leigh
The Jump-Off
This is what could really happen should various members of the Posse converge on one place at the same time.
What Happened Was…
“This was a damn good idea.” Yazmin sighed as she sank into the plush couch.
There were murmured sounds of agreement as seven of the eight assembled women relaxed from a round of marathon shopping. The annual Posse road trip just seemed to get better and better. This year they’d decided on renting a penthouse right on the Las Vegas Strip on the top floor, all amenities included. They’d even sprung for a full-time butler, who was at that very second unpacking most of the cargo they had acquired from the finest boutiques in Vegas.
It had been a productive day. Reid carefully inspected her new handbags, caressing the supple leather of a five-hundred dollar purse with reverence. Laura and Yazmin were rummaging through their many shopping bags with barely suppressed glee, while Jeanie and RaeLynn were discussing what should be on tap for the evening. Shara and Jayha were in deep discussions over the usual—world domination—when Reid suddenly exclaimed, “What the hell is Dréa doing?”
Seven pairs of eyes swung around just in time to witness something on the wall pop and glass spraying outward as Dréa jumped back, and then a glob of a flaming bluish-gray substance fell to the floor.
“Oh crap!” Dréa attempted to stomp out the flame, only to set her stiletto-heeled boots on fire. “OH CRAP!!!”
Yazmin was the first on the scene, yanking the boot down along with Dréa, who was now hopping on one foot, yowling about her favorite boots. The rest of the women sprang into action, running for bottled water to throw on the growing flames.
“Forget the water!” Shara yelled, watching the spot in the formerly immaculate carpet char. “She set the thermostat on fire. That is mercury; you aren’t going to put that out.”
The seven other women froze, looking at the diminutive despot as if she had lost her mind.
“Uh, explain this to us slowly and in simple words,” Jayha, Fearless Leader and Mistress of the Universe quipped, her hand still on the cap of the water bottle she held at the ready.
“Mercury is incredibly difficult to put out,” Shara mused, tilting her head to watch the flames burn clear through the carpet to the bare floor underneath. “And it’s toxic.”
It took about sixty full seconds before the Posse were out the door and running full tilt down the stairwell—well, after a quick stop to yank the butler out of the room with them.
“He is just too fine to let burn up,” Yazmin had lamented on the way out the door.
Three hours later, not one, not two but three firehouses had been called to the posh hotel to attempt to put out the fire that had burned straight down. Luckily, it didn’t seem to spread outward, but it certainly was working its way downward. Most of the hotel guests were completely in the dark, wandering around outside the hotel where they had been relocated or muttering about being disturbed as they shuffled off in search of a casino that wasn’t closed down due to some mysterious smell.
The Posse, however, were surrounded by official-looking types determined to know what exactly had happened and how the thermostat had spontaneously combusted. Dréa was dong her damnedest to try to explain how exactly the mercury had jumped from the thermostat to come into contact with her lighter.
“I was about to light a cigarette, and I had my lighter in my hand and I was about to light the cigarette, right,” Dréa began in a rush, her words falling into one another as she hopped from one booted foot to one bare one.
Shara shook her head and decided to concentrate on the yummy fire chief instead. He was older, with a light sprinkling of gray at the temples while the rest of his hair was jet black. His eyes sparkled with suppressed humor he probably wouldn’t dare let loose due to the gravity of the situation, which she could totally understand. But there was definitely some devilment there. Interesting. He was really, really tall, probably around six five maybe, with a nicely muscled, wiry frame. Nice.
“Stop ogling the fireman,” Jayha hissed at Shara, watching her watch him like a seven course meal.
“Can’t help it, he is so damn delicious.”
“Yay, Shara!” Jeanie teased. “Bite him! I dare you.”
“Please don’t encourage the despot,” Reid groaned, shaking her head but knowing it was no use.
“Shara, you can’t have the fire chief.” RaeLynn patted Shara on the head, trying to stem whatever scene might be coming their way. “We are kind of in a little trouble here.”
“I think you should bite him,” Yazmin chimed him. “I dare you—no, I triple dog dare you!”
“Yaz, you are not helping,” Reid snapped, but too late.
“Challenge!” Shara bellowed out, causing no less than ten firefighters to stop and stare in their direction.
“No, she didn’t just yell out challenge for all the world to hear.” Jayha’s voice was more whispered awe than chagrin. Secretly, she loved it, but she had to at least pretend to be the sensible one; she was the Fea
rless Leader after all.
“We have to do it!” Shara was bobbing, honest to goodness bobbing like a kid, her hands clasped together, glee written all over her face.
“Do what? I want to do it!” Jeanie bobbed right along with her. “And does it involve the MGM lions?”
“NO!” The answer was immediate and unanimous, even Dréa stopping her jumbled explanation of the accidental mercury fire to join in the universal reply.
“I mean, we totally have to give them stories,” Shara hastily clarified before Jeanie could skip off to collect another dangerous animal (there was a polar bear incident once…). “All these glorious examples of man flesh…we owe it to our readers, to ourselves, to do this situation justice.”
“Uh, no.” RaeLynn shook her head. “First of all, we don’t have our computers with us. Secondly, no.”
“I don’t know,” Laura spoke up. “Looks like we aren’t going anywhere for a while. We could just entertain one another.”
“We might as well,” Reid added thoughtfully. “It might be fun.”
“Or we could start another fire at a different hotel,” Yazmin pointed out.
“Shara, it was your idea, so you start,” Jayha cut Yazmin off quickly, noticing a few queer looks from firemen passing by.
“Okay, I think I will start with the fire chief….”
How Do Firemen Make Love?
by
Dréa Riley and Laura Guevara
Dréa dropped her head to her hands and swung her feet. The stocky bald guy was grilling her like she was a prime steak, and the rest of the crew were staring at all the hunky firemen going to and fro. Today was never going to end. What a fucking time to try to quit smoking. Shit. This was supposed to be fun, not another episode of “Dréa did it.” But it wasn’t her fault—this time.
“Ohmigosh, dude, I keep telling you, it wasn’t my fault,” she said on a deep, soulful sigh.
Jeanie and Jayha must’ve had those sonic big sister ears on, because at that point they both looked over at her askance. Their ability to sense her distress never ceased to amaze her. As big sisters went, they were the best.
Jeanie cocked an eyebrow and flicked her cigarette before rolling her neck and making a move to stand. It was only Jayha’s slight throat clearing that stopped her. Clearly, Jeanie was about to intervene and find out why the LVFD wasn’t taking Dréa’s story at face value.
“Dréa, are you all right?” Jayha called in that deceitfully calm, accent-less voice. She enunciated each of the words in a way that let any listener know she meant business, no matter that the words themselves weren’t threatening.
The rest of the crew continued with their perusal of the hotness parade that was more commonly known as the Vegas fire department. To the untrained eye, the women were merely milling about. But Dréa knew they were all waiting. Ready to come to her defense, kick ass, do some serious cussing, whatever the situation required. These folks didn’t really seem to understand who they were messing with. Though you’d think they’d remember that time a few years back when a certain toupee-wearing mogul had gotten cussed out right out on the Strip in front of God and everyone.
“I’m on it.” Laura bounded from her position in the middle of the seven other women. The Posse tended to rally around Shara and Laura, considering they were so short—er, vertically challenged. Couldn’t risk losing them in a crowd. Laura and Dréa were the two youngest members of the Posse’s inner sanctum, so they were normally stuck together like glue. Laura was sometimes able to use the difference in their ages, a mere few months, to pull rank on the Posse cannonball and talk her out of a few of her more dangerous endeavors.
Laura made the short walk to Dréa’s side look like it was a mile-long runway. Several of the firemen stopped mid-stride to watch the curvy Latina sashay to a beat only she could hear. Dréa would have laughed out loud if she wasn’t concentrating on which one of the firemen she wanted to hook her best friend up with. None of the gawkers really seemed worthy.
“Hola,” Laura’s slightly accented voice tinkled as she drew near.
“Hey, chiquita, ¿qué pasa?”
“Oh my God, you just damn near blew up a hotel, and you’re gonna ask me what’s up. Dréa, I swear.”
“Hey, can it! First, I didn’t almost blow it up. It was just a small gooey fireball thingy. And second, it wasn’t like I was trying to do it. And third, it wasn’t my fault, must be some shitty wiring or something, ‘cause I was a good foot from the damn thing. I was just playing with that new lighter Jeanie scored me and wondering when we were gonna eat. I heard Jayha saying how it was hot, so I went to adjust the thing; I had to look at it for a minute. I mean who has things like that anymore? How come it didn’t have any buttons? Or a digital readout? I was using my lighter to read the little numbers, then WHAMO! Flaming alien snot all up on my boot. Man, I loved these boots. Those were originals. One of a kind! What am I gonna do, and when are we gonna eat? Go ask Jeanie if I can have a cigarette.”
“NO!”
Wow, seven sets of voices rang out. Dréa should have known the other ladies were listening. Funny, they let Jeanie smoke like a freight train, because that’s what Jeanie did, but she wasn’t allowed. In fact, Dréa thought, she wasn’t allowed to do a whole helluva lot.
“Which is so not right.”
“What’s not right?” Laura asked, her gaze trained on the back of a really hunky guy in a pair of dark blue dress pants that were caressing a nice high, round ass.
“The fact that you understand everything she just said” The short stocky man cut in.
“I swear I’ve been listening to her for fifteen full minutes and she isn’t speaking any language I’ve ever heard of. I just need to know how the fire started. Can you ask her that and then translate please”
*****
“Uh Oh” Reid whispered as the six other women tuned into what was going on.
“Bet you ten bucks Laura kicks his ass” Yazmin added. “You know how she and Dréa are together.”
“Nah,” Came Jeanie though she didn’t turn to watch, “He’s old, she’ll just cuss him a little bit”
“Twenty and a trip back to that purse store.” Yazmin countered.
Reid waivered, but she saw what no one else did. Laura wasn’t really paying attention to the short investigator. Someone behind him held her attention. Reid watched as Laura tipped her head to the side to peer around the older man in order to keep her eyes locked on the official-looking hunk. Reid also noticed Dréa toe off her remaining boot while pulling her shoulder-length braids into a ponytail. Reid was sure Dréa would have pulled her earrings off as well, had she actually been wearing any. From her perspective she could see things going awry—well, more than they already were—but she doubted Laura would be physically involved in the action this time. Nope, this was totally shaping up to be another Dréa smackdown kind of incident.
“Forget about the money—make it a bottle of champipple and you’re on.”
Laura never took her eyes off the hunk once he caught her attention. She was tempted to ignore the man who’d been asking Dréa questions, but he wouldn’t stop talking. He was like a gnat, and she just wanted to swat him.
“She said she didn’t do it,” Laura spat in the general direction of the little man.
“Huh,” he replied.
Laura sighed. The hunk she was watching made his way toward the hotel, and despite all her mental willing, he never turned around so she could get a look at him from the front. Dammit!! Laura was ticked off now. She was totally trying to see if hottie looked as good from the front, but no. Short and surly was just tall and round enough to block her view. What - was he still talking? God, why was he still talking? He was lucky Dréa hadn’t already throttled him. Laura really was contemplating just letting her best friend punch him in the mouth. And Lord, did he just try to insinuate that Dréa wasn’t smart. That did it. She was going to set him straight, then leave him at Dréa’s mercy. Angrily, she turned back to Dréa and
the man who was now aggravating them both and repeated herself. Laura hated repeating herself.
“You said you couldn’t understand her. I translated. She. Didn’t. Do. It.”
Laura gave up attempting to keep herself between Dréa and the current object of her irritation. Really, she thought to herself, why do people look at all the barely restrained energy that is Dréa and think to themselves, Today, I want to risk getting cussed out in a made up mix of several languages and get my ass kicked all before lunch?
“Actually,” Dréa cut in after having secured her hair and tossed her much abused boot into a nearby trash can, “What I said was—” She began calmly and in a perfectly timed, eloquently drawled, husky timbre. Her voice was much more raspy and sultry than her usual hyper-excited meter, causing the whole crew to go on alert. Dréa was only ever truly understandable and calm when she was about to intentionally start or, in this case, finish something, “that I didn’t fucking do it. I am not really sure what part of that you can’t seem to grasp. I’ve been saying it since you walked over here. But if you ask me again, I’m going to do it. IT just won’t be the IT you keep asking me about. Then we are going to have ourselves a whole ’nother IT to worry about.”
By the time Dréa had finished speaking, she was less than a foot away from the investigator. For a moment he seemed to think he could hold his ground, but something about the way she’d put herself all up in his space daunted him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there were eight other sets of female eyes watching him, waiting for him to make one misstep. Or maybe it was the fact that the female directly in front of him had lost all of her childlike exuberance and had advanced on him so quickly he hadn’t had time to think she was anything less than barely restrained danger, much like the mercury that had burned through one of Vegas’s most luxurious hotels.
Laura was about to just let the man get what he had coming, but she heard Jayha’s feigned voice of reason ring out.
