Five Alarm Forever: A Reverse Harem Holiday Romance

by Dizzy Hooper

  I swing myself over him, coming to straddle his thick, strong thighs. The rough denim of his jeans scrapes my sensitive skin. Why is it so sexy to be naked when the guy I'm kissing is still fully clothed?

  I'll never know, but it only gets better as Walker slides closer. He runs his hot palm along my back, then down to my ass, and it feels like a question, like an invitation, maybe, and yeah—definitely. I could be down for that.

  Getting stuffed full of two cocks used to scare me—hell, just the threat of a few fingers in my rear entrance made me nervous at first, but Walker never fails to treat me with the most delicate care.

  He retreats for a second, but that's fine. I have Street to rub myself against. He kisses me deep and open, teeth scraping over my lip and tongue, and every sharp bite feels better than the last. With his hands, he cups my aching breasts, pulling at my nipples until they sing, and every note I feel right in my clit.

  And then Walker is behind me again, his big cock pressing to my ass while he kisses all up and down the back of my neck. I gasp, grinding my soaking pussy against the bulge in Street's jeans.

  "What do you want, baby?" Walker asks, wet and deep beside my ear.

  Fuck. Everything.

  "Want you. Both of you. Like this." I drag my cunt against Street again, then push my ass back into Walker. "Want to watch you…"

  "Is that right?" Street breathes. "You like the idea of the two of us together?"

  I shudder, spasming between my legs. "Is that a bad thing?"

  "No. Definitely not."

  As if to prove his point, Street releases one of my tits to reach behind me. Walker and I both groan as he takes Walker's thick cock in his hand. I twist, desperate to see that for some reason, and fuck. It's even sexier than I thought.

  "Isaac," Walker pants.

  Street flicks his thumb beneath the slit of Walker's cock. "Yeah, he likes that, doesn't he?"

  "A lot," Walker agrees, thrusting roughly into the circle of Street's fist, and I can scarcely breathe with how turned on I am.

  "So this is what you guys like to do when I'm not around, huh?"

  Street grunts. "It's even better when he gets around to jerking me off, too."

  "Impatient," Walker grouses, but he reaches past me for Street's fly.

  Twisting back around, I help him tug at Street's belt. At his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, and between the two of us, we get him naked in a matter of seconds.

  "And you call me impatient," Street starts, but then Walker's wrapping a calloused hand around him, leaning past me to kiss him hard and rough, and yeah. Jesus.

  I let out a whine, dropping my hand to my own dripping cunt.

  "Shit, you really do like it," Walker rasps, wonder in his voice as he takes in the vision of me touching myself. Sandwiched between the two of them as they jerk each other off.

  "As much as you like it when we both fuck you together?" Street asks.

  And how am I supposed to think, much less speak?

  Somehow I manage, locking eyes with his dark ones. "What do you say we find out?"

  "Fuck, yes." Walker lets go of Street and reaches for the lube he retrieved earlier.

  Street's cock bounces against his abs. While I'm waiting for Walker, I claim Street's mouth with my own again, grinding my wet pussy over his length. The head rubs against my clit, and fireworks go off inside me.

  They only intensify when Walker returns to kissing the back of my neck again. He urges my legs wider, and I spread them over Street's thighs. I shudder at the touch of Walker's slick fingertips at the crack of my ass. He dips to the center of me, brushing my tight back entrance before nudging inside.

  And it's as sharp as ever, the sensation of being coaxed open where my body isn't meant to be exposed. It's worth it, though, every sting melting into pure pleasure as he works his way inside.

  "Yeah," he groans, in to the second knuckle. "Let me in, baby. Gonna feel so good around my cock."

  I laugh. "Feels pretty fucking good now."

  It only feels better when Street goes back to kissing my mouth and playing with my nipples. How did I ever doubt that these two were a pair? They work together seamlessly, silently communicating the best way to wreck me.

  As Walker stretches me with another finger, Street slides a hand down my side to brush at the hot, swollen place between my legs. He strokes my pussy in time with the way Walker's thrusting his fingers in and out of my ass. The heel of Street's hand presses into my clit, and a hurt noise slips out of me, arousal almost too bright shooting sparks deep within.

  Street growls, tugging at my lip with his teeth.

  And then his hands are gone, his mouth is gone. My eyes snap open, my pussy pulsing, ass clenching.

  But all I find is the top of Street's hair as he slides down the bed.

  As he comes to lie with his head right between my legs.

  And oh Jesus. Oh, fuck.

  Street grabs my thighs and hauls me down, and just like that, I'm sitting on his face. My eyes roll back in my head as he licks a fat stripe up my slit before pursing his lips around my clit.

  I fall forward, nothing in front of me to keep me grounded against he assault of pure pleasure that is Street eating me out while Walker drives a third finger deep into my ass. I catch myself with my hands, bracing my arms on Walker's headboard. All I can do is hold myself up, though, lost to pleasure, lost to these two men who adore each other, who adore me.

  And who will clearly stop at nothing in their mission to drive me right the hell out of my goddam mind.

  "My God," I moan, rocking between them.

  My vision narrowing, I clench my eyes shut tight. Street thrusts his tongue into my cunt and rubs my clit with his thumb. Biting the back of my neck, Walker teases my rim with his fucking pinky, as if he's going to cram that in there, too, and that's it, I'm done.

  I come with a shout, orgasm barreling in on me out of nowhere and sweeping me away. It's sharp, almost painful in the intensity of the pleasure, but Street is there, licking at me gently, helping me down.

  Twitching with aftershocks, I pull away from his mouth. He presses one last, sucking kiss to my clit before sliding out from under me. I look down to find him staring at me with eyes gone black with lust.

  And he could wreck me right now. He could shove right in and take me hard, Walker destroying my ass at the same time, and I would let them. I'd love it. I'd probably come a thousand times.

  But there's something unhinged inside my chest. I'm slick all down my thighs, wet from his mouth and wet from my own need. My ass is stretched wide and practically squelching with lube. They're both huge and hard.

  So why does they way Street's looking at me feel like it's about so much more than sex?

  How do the kisses Walker presses to my nape feel tender?

  I shudder, my knees going weak beneath me.

  I want to come again; I want to get fucked. But what I need is connection. I need these men to take me apart and put me together again. I need them to make me feel cherished. Loved.

  They know it, too, God bless them. Slipping his fingers free from my sore ass, Walker gathers me up against his chest. My arms shake from the effort of holding myself up. My thighs burn.

  But I don't have to do anything here. I can let go.

  Walker lays us down on our sides. As he slots himself in behind me, his cock is a searing brand against the back of my thigh. It skids against my skin, smearing slick pre-come all over me, and my pussy pulses with heat.

  I look up, opening my arms for Street.

  He falls into them, putting his chest to mine, and yeah, God, yeah. I'm surrounded by their strength, their clean, masculine scents. Their skin is pressed to every inch of mine, and it's what I swear I've wanted all my goddam life.

  Kissing my mouth, Street rubs his thick cock all up and down my slit. He squeezes the flesh of my ass, then slides his palm along my thigh, hitching it over his hip to open me for him. Gliding his wet mouth from my neck to my ear, Walker
tests my back entrance one last time with his thumb and I shudder, reaching for him.

  Then Street's cock slips that final inch lower. The head of his cock meets the swollen lips of my pussy, and his breath catches. I angle my hips toward him, aching for it, needy and desperate, and he gives me exactly what I'm asking for—every perfect, throbbing, hot bit of it.

  He pushes in to the hilt in one long motion, forcing the breath from my body as he fills me. I gasp, throwing my head back onto Walker's shoulder, grasping at Walker, and I scarcely know who is who, except I do.

  There's no mistaking Street's scars, his rough breath and the bite of his kiss.

  There's no doubt that the huge mass nudging up against my hungry ass is Walker.

  I cry out as Walker forces his way in. The stretch brings tears to my eyes, pushing me to my limit, and I don't care.

  It's so good.

  I love feeling like this. I love being taken and held and turned inside out. I love the fullness, and I love them. I love them both so fucking much.

  Sandwiched between them, I surrender to sheer pleasure and the impossible fullness of them both fucking me at the same time. Street draws back only for Walker to drive in deep, and they each hit places inside me I hardly knew could be touched.

  And yeah, I know that's a metaphor just as much as it's the god-honest literal truth.

  Street's hand on my thigh keeps me wide open for their onslaught. His pelvic bone grinds against my clit with every inward thrust, and I swear my G-spot is being battered from every side.

  And I'm not ready for it when a second orgasm claims me, but I surrender to it without a fight. I clench and pulse, screaming both their names, kissing Street and holding onto Walker's hip.

  They quicken their pace until there's nothing but them. I peak a third time and a fourth and then Walker falters. He shoves in hard, without finesse.

  "Jesus, Heidi, baby—"

  Hot come fills my ass as he stutters, his cock thickening inside me to the point where I swear I'll tear.

  "Issaac," Walker groans, another slick jet of come shooting into my rear passage. He reaches for Street, touching his face.

  And Street bites my lip. "Both of you," he groans. "So fucking lucky."

  Then he clamps his mouth shut. He comes inside my pussy silently. I flutter my eyes open to witness the gorgeous way he shatters for me, for us.

  To see the softness that comes over him in the aftermath.

  Slowly, Walker and Street both come to a stop. Walker's gasping, ragged breath is hot against my ear, Street's lips wet and slow as they part from mine.

  For what feels like a really, really long time, we lie there together utterly sated. Connected. Entwined.

  Somehow, it doesn't matter that I just woke up after a luxurious morning nap that carried me clear into the afternoon. Between the emotional effort of loving these two men and getting fucked hard by them both, I'm exhausted.

  With a kiss to my temple, Walker withdraws. I shudder at the sudden emptiness as he pulls free. Wet come runs down my ass. When Street pulls away, he leaves my pussy even slicker and messier, and that should probably bother me, but I love it. I feel claimed and used and worn out beyond reason, and it's fantastic.

  The two of them leave me in the middle of Walker's bed. I spread out, confident in their care. Sure enough, they return within minutes, still gloriously naked. They spread me out, opening my sore thighs to dab at my fucked-out pussy and ass. Cleaning their come from my skin, they kiss my mouth, my tits, even my tingly clit, and I hum, happy in a way I never knew was possible. Not for me.

  But I am, and I'm too tired to pretend it isn't because of these incredible men. Walker, Street. Even though they're not here right now, Sal and Jaquan and Corey, too.

  They've all taken me in and made a home for me. They care for me in a way no one in my life ever has, giving me space when I need it and love when I want it. They give me respect in the field, and they fuck me mercilessly.

  And I can't trust it. I shouldn't.

  But lord help me, I do.

  As I drift, Street and Walker settle themselves around me again. I think I hear them talking in quiet tones over my head. But whatever it is they're discussing, it floats right on past me

  Maybe it's something I should worry about. Maybe it's like the phone call with Walker before, where he swore it wasn't.

  Either way, even I can't bring myself to be troubled by it right now. Later, I'll have all the time to obsess in the world.

  In this moment, here, I let them hold me.

  I let myself really believe I'm as safe and cared for as I long to be…

  42

  "No way, man." Jaquan shakes his head at Sal as we cross the parking lot toward the station before the start of our shift. "With that defensive line? You wish."

  "I'm telling you. You're getting crushed Monday night."

  I chuckle to myself, letting their banter wash over me. I wouldn't rate myself a major sports fan, but hanging out with Jaquan and Sal has been…educational. They're passionate in their work and passionate in bed, and you guessed it—they're really, really passionate when it comes to sitting down in front of their giant TV every time a big game is on.

  I couldn't prove it in a court of law, but I'm pretty sure they picked rival football teams to root for just so they could give each other shit about it.

  "Come on, Heidi." Jaquan slings an arm around my shoulder, bringing me back to their debate. "Tell him he's an idiot."

  "Uh-uh." I duck out from under his arm, even though it's one of my favorite places to be. "I'm not getting involved."

  "That's her way of saying I'm right. She just doesn't want to hurt your feelings."

  "You are so full of shit, man."

  A silly, happy sort of warmth flows through me.

  It's all just so normal. Walking into work with my boyfriends, listening to them trash-talk each other.

  Okay, so maybe the part about boyfriends, plural, remains a little weird, but it has its benefits.

  I get both of their arms wrapped around me at night. Both of them to talk to.

  Both of them to fuck me, one after another, until my pussy is dripping with their come, my body wrung out from so many unbelievable orgasms.

  Yeah. That part is pretty freaking great.

  The only thing better is the knowledge that my other three boyfriends are right beyond these doors.

  My mouth almost hurts with the force of my smile as we head on in. It's hard to believe that just a couple of months ago, I arrived in this town, damaged and angry and betrayed, intent on keeping my distance.

  Now here I am, intimate with all five of my hot firefighter co-workers. Deliriously happy in a way I never imagined could be for me.

  After a quick stop in the locker room to drop off our coats and maybe trade a couple of have-a-good-shift kisses, Sal, Jaquan and I part ways to relieve the guys from the night before. I run into Street in the kitchen, and he tugs me into his side for a rough if brief hug before handing me a cup of black coffee and wishing me luck.

  I check in with Bob and get my duty list for the morning. Then it's off to say hello to Walker and see if he has anything else for me to tackle today.

  On my way to his office, I run into Corey, who must be running late. He looks harried, his hair tousled, a certain tightness to his eyes.

  "You okay?" I ask.

  "Yeah." He stops in front of me, reaching for my hand. "Look—"

  But whatever he was about to say gets lost on the air.

  Because down the hallway, the door to the station swings open. Walker strides through, his broad shoulders and trim waste unmistakable even from a distance.

  Almost as unmistakable as the figure that follows him in.

  My heart freezes in my chest.

  It can't be. Not here.

  Not when I went all this way to guarantee that I would never, ever have to see him again.

  But there's no debating it.

  Especially not when the man
turns around. Like he's actively seeking me out, he locks his gaze on mine. Cold gray eyes look me up and down. Thin lips curl up into a sneer.

  And Duke fucking Hopkins calls down the hallway at me, "Long time no see, Princess."

  43

  My entire body shakes, staring down a corridor at the last person I ever expected to walk in the door.

  The ten year old girl in me wants to run to him, wants him wrap me up in an inexplicable sense of safety, the way he did the night he carried me out of the burnt wreckage of my parents' home.

  The probie cadet wants his approval as my superior officer.

  The jaded, angry, betrayed woman he left to die inside another fire wants to kick him in the nuts and then toss his sorry, evil ass in a prison cell to rot for the rest of his miserable life.

  And me? The person I am right now? The one who was deliriously happy up until about thirty seconds ago?

  She just wants to cry.

  I look to Walker, who's standing right beside this asshole. His posture is stiff, his jaw clenched. His blue eyes are heavy with meaning, only for once I can't read them.

  "Walker—" I start.

  But Duke turns to him before I can summon the words to even begin to ask the questions clawing at my chest. "It's a good thing you called me when you did, son."

  Son.

  Jesus fucking Christ. Son?

  My throat closes, my tongue coating in ash.

  And yet some hope persists inside me.

  I trust Walker. I trusted him enough to let him send me back into burning buildings, I trusted him enough to let him fuck me raw, in my cunt and in my ass.

  I trusted him so much, I told him exactly how Duke Hopkins screwed me over.

  I trust him now—to slap this fuckwad for calling him son. To kick him right back out the door and all the way home to Chicago.

  To say something, anything.

  But instead, he smiles tightly. "Glad you could make it out on such short notice."

  No. No, this can't be happening.