by Shey Stahl
“That guy works over there.”
Shifting my weight, he gets his knee between my legs and holds me against the window to unbutton his jeans. “All the more reason for me to fuck you against the window. Let him see this is mine now.”
While I like the possessiveness clawing at his words, I’m distracted. My dad is knocking on the door to my office.
Caleb draws back, letting me go. “Who the hell is that?”
I smile weakly. “Do you want to meet my dad?”
“No. I don’t want to meet your dad.”
I push him back a few steps. “Then hide under my desk.”
He laughs and takes a step toward my mahogany desk in the corner. “I haven’t hidden from a girl’s fathers since I was seventeen.”
“That actually surprises me a little.” I laugh, straightening out my black dress and then glancing in the mirror to fix my hair.
Caleb watches me, then he runs his hand over my desk. “Screw the windows. I’m fucking you on this.”
Shaking my head, I wait for him to get under it before opening the door to my office. “Hey, Dad.”
My father smiles, reaching up to adjust his burgundy tie as he steps inside my office. “Morning, honey.” We sit on the couch together and my eyes keep darting to my desk to make sure Caleb’s hidden under there. I’m surprised he fits, but he does remain hidden.
My father and I make small talk about some of the department heads when he takes on more of a sincere expression, his jaw tightening. “I heard about Judah.”
“How?” I squeak out. This is not a conversation I want Caleb hearing.
“Tom told me, and I know you’re not living with Judah anymore. Mila, you can have a room here. You don’t need to stay with Scarlet.”
“She’s a good friend, Dad.”
“I know. She’s a nice girl, but I’m more worried that if you don’t have a stable place to stay, your attention here will slip.”
Okay, now I know where this is going.
“Dad, I assure you I’ve got this under control.”
He nods, unconvinced. “Who’s the firefighter you’ve been seeing?”
He’s under my desk. No biggie. “You mean Caleb?”
“Yeah, him. Heather mentioned he’s been in the hotel a few times.”
Jesus Christ, people at this hotel need to get a sex life. Fuckers.
I play it cool and twirl a piece of my hair staring at the way it springs off my finger when I let go of it. “Yeah, I met him during the annual fire inspection.”
“And now you’re seeing him?” he presses, watching my reactions carefully.
I nod. “I’ve seen him a few times, yes.”
Just as I’m really starting to sweat it, my father’s phone rings and Caleb fucking sneezes.
With his phone in hand, my father glances at me. “What was that noise?”
I wipe my nose. “I sneezed. I think I’m getting a cold.”
“Oh.” My father steps back. He’s a total germ-phobic. I bet he even carries a bottle of hand sanitizer in his suit pockets. “I have to take this.”
And then he’s out of my office and I lock the door behind him. I rush over to my desk. “Why’d you sneeze? Don’t you know anything about hiding out? You’re not supposed to sneeze.”
“Yeah, well, you need to dust under your desk then.” Caleb removes himself from under my desk, but his expression has changed. Lost in hard eyes is not the man who went under there smiling. “Are you looking for a place to stay now?” I don’t know why he’s asking. He never asks me questions. He’s probably doing it now because of the conversation with my dad.
“I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just move in with Tom. He’s looking for a roommate.” I’m totally teasing because I’m upset with Tom and if I moved in with him, I’d intentionally set his apartment on fire.
I’m joking, but Caleb doesn’t take it that way when he scowls and says, “Fuck that.”
“What?” I ask, stepping between his legs as he leans back into my desk. He grips the edge of the wood.
Caleb leans forward, his breath fanning over my face. “Fuck that,” he repeats. “You’re not moving in with a man.”
Our eyes lock and I don’t want to piss him off. “Okay . . .”
He twists around my desk, sends everything on it to the floor with a swipe of his hand and then grabs me by the waist and places me on the top. “You’re not moving in with him,” he hisses through gritted teeth working on his pants again.
Just when I think this might be like the time in the bathroom, minus the turnout gear and the mask, Caleb wraps his arms around my waist and turns me over so my tits are pressed into my desk. His hand moves to my ass, and then he squeezes my cheek tightly before he slaps it once. Oh yeah, that’s nice.
Though my mind keeps going back to what my dad was saying, Caleb certainly has a way of making me forget everything else around me.
I twist my head to look back at him when he still hasn’t made his move. “What are you waiting for?”
He doesn’t look at me, nor does he answer me. His eyes remain low, on my lower half. Ripping his shirt over his head, he reaches into his back pocket and removes a condom from his wallet. When he has it on, he spreads my legs apart with his a little more, pushing his jeans just past his hips.
When his hands return to me, they’re all man, calloused edges of a roughened firefighter. It’s a harsh comfort being held captive at the hands of this man, rugged and raw.
His hips jerk when I make contact with his cock, my hand sliding over the latex covered muscle straining for attention.
“Fuck, I have to be inside you. Now.” Jerking my face toward his, his mouth finds mine, unable to part from me.
I’m wearing a dress. It makes it really easy for times like this and I’d be lying if I said Caleb hadn’t been influencing my attire these days.
He doesn’t remove my panties, which in a way is way hotter and makes this feel illicit. Let’s face it, it is illicit and fucking hot as hell. Instead, he simply moves them aside as naked parts of him came in contact with the slippery wet parts of me.
Our mouths part, a moan falling from my lips at the loss of connection, only for his mouth to find the back of my neck, wild with heavy kisses as his groans of pleasure pass over my skin. All I can do is remember to breathe and say his name, and when I’m so, so close, I tell him, and his mouth bites down on my shoulder again, muffling his groan as he says, “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful when you come on my dick.”
Believe it or not, I’ve never been fucked on a desk. Plenty of counters and tables, and a bar stool once, but never a desk and certainly not in my office. There’s a first time for everything though, right? It seems Caleb’s quickly becoming someone I’ve shared a lot of firsts with.
Desk sex is easier than counter sex. I wouldn’t say it’s hotter because I miss the mask and the way his erratic breathing sounds when he came, but he makes up for it.
He has me pinned to my desk, his hand on the back of my neck keeping it secure against the wood as he slams into me, again and again.
And I come, twice actually, and anyone standing outside my office door can certainly hear me. Caleb isn’t far behind me, somehow positioning one of his knees on my desk to drive into me harder, deeper, until his movements still.
Slumping forward, his hips shudder as he releases inside of me, his mouth biting down on the back of my neck in the process. The sounds of his orgasm fills the room as his cum fills my pussy. Pulse after pulse of hot cum floods my insides, and I can’t get enough of him.
We collapse on top of my desk, and I love the way my breathing is labored with the weight of his chest on my back.
“Mila?” he asks against my neck, his palms flat on my desk as raises up.
“Yeah?”
“Never get rid of this desk.”
SCARLET SLAMS MY office door just before I’m getting ready to leave for the night. “You’re going out with me tonight.”
Not this again. I’m also silently hoping it would have been Caleb returning to fuck me against the windows. The longer I stare at them and think about Nixon’s reaction at the Vance Benefit, the more I want him to know he’s never going to have me.
“I can’t,” I lie. I don’t have a reason. I have no life outside of fucking a firefighter when he comes to find me or I stalk him. I still don’t have his phone number. What does that tell you?
Scarlet takes my jacket off my coat rack and tosses it at me. “Yep. You’re going. Caleb’s there. I’m meeting his brother tonight.” Then she shakes her hips, and I notice she’s in the tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Can you even breathe?”
“Nope. Not really. Now hurry.” She waves to my door. “We’re late.”
I’m disappointed she knows Caleb’s going to be there and I didn’t. I really need to get his phone number.
“I have so many plans for tonight, but sobriety is just not one of them,” Scarlet says once we’re at the bar.
“What’s your plan for tonight?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
She whispers to me as we walk toward a table in the back, “Him taking off these tight-ass jeans with his teeth.”
“That’s not possible.”
She winks at me. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”
Yeah, she could. And if a girl was dreaming, that girl being me, I’d be having Caleb’s babies by now. Dreaming. Certainly dreaming here.
Scarlet’s pledge begins with an endless flow of drinks to the table in the back of Trinity nightclub where guess what, Caleb is with who I’m assuming are his brothers and maybe fellow firefighters? I’m never introduced. It’s like Caleb’s keeping me as his precious toy.
“Hey, chick?” Jacey says, coming to the table. “You’re here!”
“I’m here.”
She pushes a Bay Breeze toward me. “Caleb said you drink these. It’s on me.”
He told her what I liked to drink? Why do I have this sudden urge to lick the side of his beautiful face and thank him?
Beside me, Caleb lets out a deep throaty laugh at something Kellan said to Scarlet and stretched his arms over his head and one around my shoulder, drawing me closer to his side.
This I could get used to.
That is until Owen shows up and sits next to me, kicking Jacey out of her spot. “Listen,” he whispers in my ear. “Two things. Your friend ditched me for a Ryan brother. I’m upset about that, and I blame Caleb for it.” I listen to him, staring blankly at him as he speaks. “So you’re going to help me out with something.”
I don’t like where this is going. Not one bit. I point to my chest with my finger. “Why me?”
“Because I said so. And you’re taking one for your friend.” Now that I think about it, Scarlet never once mentioned Owen after their night together, and I want to point this out to Owen. There’s no sense in kicking a man when he’s down though so I let it slide.
I whisper to Owen, “What am I supposed to do?”
He grins and slowly lifts a beer to his lips, side-eyeing me before taking a drink. “Dance for Caleb.”
Say what?
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ll see.”
That’s what I’m scared of.
When Caleb gets up to go to the bathroom, Owen pounces like a jungle cat on the prowl. “You’re going to go in that back room and I’ll get Caleb to go in there somehow . . . I don’t know, anyways then you’re going to dance for him.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, we’re quickly standing outside a very dark back room to the club, and I don’t like where it’s going. How do I get myself into situations like this? I came out for a drink and peer pressure, and now I’m what, about to give a lap dance? “What’s the point of this?”
Owen shrugs. “He took the airbags out of my truck the other day. It’s time for a payback.”
Firefighters are so fucking weird. He can’t even keep his stories straight as to why I’m doing this. “But why a lap dance?”
“He’s got a fear of strippers.”
“So?”
Owen glares at me, and I don’t like it. He looks scary. “Just do it, okay? It’s blackmail for when he decides he’s going to fuck with me again.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this. What did I ever do to you?”
“It’s not what you did, it’s what your boy did.” And then he slaps my ass. “Now go, make me proud.”
Him proud? What the fuck is happening?
I’m caving when I see Jacey appear with a smile. Somehow I think she’s in on this.
I turn to Owen. “How do you think they’re going to let us do this? This isn’t exactly a strip club.” The dark bar is sleek and more upscale than the average strip club in Seattle, surely. It certainly isn’t the kind of place where I would expect someone to perform a lap dance.
“I know the owner, Drake,” Jacey pops up with, pointing to him and then a back room. “You can do it in there. I’ll get Caleb in there, and you do the rest.”
See? Told you she’s in on it.
“How do you know the owner?” Owen asks her, amused and leaning casually against the wall beside me. “You blow him?”
“Stop being nasty. I dated him for, like, a week, Owen.” She shrugs as if it meant nothing and then says, completely serious to me, “Don’t talk to Drake. Don’t even look his way. He turned me into some kind of suicide risk.”
“I’m not surprised by that.” Owen laughs, and after a closer look at the owner in the corner of the bar, I can tell he’s just the type of guy Scarlet would date too. Tattooed up to his jaw, pierced lip, eyebrow, and nose. I have no doubt those piercings went lower, too. Hell, he’s the type of guy I used to date. Used to be the keyword here. Now I’ve moved onto mentally fucked-up firefighters.
Biting on my nails, I take a look at the back room. “What song?”
“Pony. It’s what all lap dances are done to,” Jacey says immediately, and walks inside the room to a stereo in the corner.
Oh Jesus. What is this, an audition for Magic Mike?
And then I panic. “I’ve never danced to that song.” It’s a lie because I’ve totally danced to this song naked. Only it was in the shower and ended with six stitches in my chin.
Aside from that, and remembering the blood pouring from my chin that night, I think Owen and Jacey can tell I’m moments away from chickening out and telling them both to fuck off.
Nervously, I bite my lip. What if this pisses Caleb off?
Owen pushes me forward into the room. “Just feel the music and move. I know these hips of yours know how to. You got Caleb’s attention.”
I whip around to face Owen. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Sighing, he rolls his eyes. “Such amateurs I’m dealing with here.” He narrows his eyes. “You know what the fuck it means. Take it as a compliment and just focus. This is our entertainment for tonight.”
Of course I’m their entertainment.
Jerks.
“Stop thinking.” Jacey grins. “Just do it. It’s, like, a four-minute song, and then it will be over. Own it.”
Glad she’s so confident.
While I yank my dress down a little more in the front and hike it up around my upper thighs, Jacey teases my hair a little.
Stepping back, she eyes her handiwork with her hands on her hips. “Perfect.”
Jacey does as she said she would and gets Caleb into the room, sitting in a chair with his drink in hand. The fact that he’s willingly going into a dark room, led by Jacey of all people, isn’t lost on me either. He’s drunk. Which is even better for me because I won’t feel like such a fool for listening to these bitches.
When I hear the song come on, Owen pushes me again, and I’m alone with Caleb in the room, trying to wrap my mind around what I’m about to do.
I go for it and play the part of a dirty stripper. And, I might add, I own the fucking shit out of it. Something c
omes over me, like being possessed and you’d think some other girl has invaded my body and is moving it for me.
As the song begins, I think it takes Caleb a minute to realize exactly what I’m doing, but he catches on pretty quickly. He shakes his head like he can’t believe I’m doing this.
Laughter breaks out from outside the room. Some are even filming this shit.
I’m nervous, and I think Caleb gathers that, too. I keep thinking once he catches on to what I’m doing, and that his friends are watching, he’s going to tell me to stop.
But here’s the thing I’m learning from these fleeting moments I’m with this guy. Firefighters live a demanding job and their attention to detail is critical. They have to wake up and make life-changing decisions in split seconds. For that reason, when they’re not at the station, they like to let loose. And I do mean let loose. From what I’ve seen from him and his friends, most are heavy drinkers and like to have a good time.
Tonight, Caleb’s having a good time, and I like to think I’m making it a little better. Or at least I’m about to with some dirty stripper moves I have no business doing.
Caleb’s eyes are wide, a wildfire in them as he watches me moving toward him in a sexy strut I never thought me of all people could actually carry off. But I do, and I’m confident in my every move.
This is me, showing him another side of myself, moving closer and making my intentions clear. I’m about to ride his fire pole.
With one leg on the edge of his chair, the other planted firmly on the ground, I swivel my hips and run my hands from my thighs up my body until they’re over my head, letting him see the entire length of my body.
Coordination has not always been my specialty. Remember the chin stitches the last time I danced to this song? While I can certainly move, balance is my problem. I slip a little and decide if I’m going to do this, two feet had to be on the floor at all times.
Dancing in front of him is easier, tempting, even. Let him see what I have to offer without being able to touch. That’s how real strippers do it, right?
Turning around, I bend at my knees, arch my back, throw my ass out there, and then look over my shoulder at him with my finger in my mouth, sucking. To tease him more, I bend at the waist and touch the floor with my hands, then shake my ass a little and look back at him once again. I’ve got an ass. The tightness of my clothes clinging to my hips assure me of this fact. But knowing how to use your ass in your favor is something not every woman can pull off.
