by Lyra Marlowe
As her mother moved in to comfort her, completely ignoring the mess, John sat back on his heels and closed his eyes. Thank you, thank you, thank you. When he looked up, Nolan was watching him. His partner gave a little nod. They were thinking the same thing.
They did the routine paperwork. Nolan talked to Amelia’s pediatrician on the phone. He said to bring her over as soon as she was cleaned up. John wrote some aftercare notes. They worked more slowly than usual, deliberately, while they observed the child. She remained stable and breathing well. The grateful but vomit-covered mother offered them coffee or a sandwich, which they declined. “We have to get back,” Nolan said. “We have a friend coming in for lunch.”
John froze in his tracks. Lucy. He’d forgotten all about Lucy and her lunch plans.
Nolan practically trotted back to the squad. John followed him with a mixture of guilt and dread.
*
By the time they got back to the medic shed, the fire crew had already latched on to the woman. They’d left a note. We’ve got Lucy and the food and we’re not giving them back.
John and Nolan went up to the firehouse and found Lucy holding court in the conference room. She’d brought a picnic basket full of handmade sandwiches, fruit salad, gourmet chips and real lemonade. John thought she’d only meant to have lunch with Nolan, but she’d brought more than enough food for the whole station.
Captain Waldron was sitting beside her. He seemed to have forgotten his fight with his wife. “Say that again,” he urged. “You’re a drug pusher?”
Lucy laughed. “Not the way you think. I work for a drug company. I go charm doctors into prescribing more of our products for their patients. It’s all legal and pretty, but yeah, I push drugs.”
“Prettiest drug pusher I ever saw,” Lawson said.
“You better have saved us some food,” John grumbled.
Lucy stood and went to kiss Nolan on the cheek. “Hi, sweetie. Hi, John. There’s lots of food,” she promised. “Come, eat.”
John’s anxiety suddenly vanished. It was okay. Lucy was there, holding Nolan’s hand, and all the firemen were looking at him and her and shaking their heads, but it was okay. His behavior had not come between Lucy and Nolan, and not between Nolan and him. They were all in the same room and nothing had exploded. It was going to be okay.
Waldron looked at him and rolled his eyes, but no one else even knew he was in the room.
He was starving. He got a paper plate and loaded it up, then sat back in the corner and watched the woman work the room.
Nolan looked so happy beside her. He must know that every man in the room was envious. Even Waldron, long-married and committed, if not especially happy, looked as if he wanted to be the guy holding her hand. They all knew Nolan was gay. They knew he had the girl and didn’t want her. And they all wanted her and couldn’t have her.
If they only knew, John thought wryly.
He ate slowly and he watched Nolan bask. It was all delicious.
*
The firemen took Lucy on a tour of the station. Nolan went along to protect her while John gathered up the leftovers and carried them back to the shed. The firemen would still come looking for them, if they got hungry enough, but at least they’d have to walk across the yard to do it.
John thought, all things considered, he’d handled the lunch well. He felt better than he had all morning. He flopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the battered coffee table. Maybe he could grab a little nap before their next run. His belly full of sandwiches made him drowsy.
The outside door opened and Lucy came in.
He looked past her. “You lose Nolan?”
“He’s doing something with their stupid computer again.”
“Yeah,” John said, nodding. “He keeps trying to put controls on it, and they keep getting around them and then crying when they catch viruses.”
She sat down at the other end of the couch. “I had a nice time last night. Thank you.”
John wasn’t sure which part of last night she was referring to. She seemed so damn innocent in the light of day. Sweet. Wholesome. “Me too.” Maybe it had just been a freak thing, an impulse. Maybe the polite thing to do was pretend it never happened. But his cock had other ideas. It stirred just from being near her.
“This place is really…crappy.”
“I know. But we get the best coffee.” He shrugged. “And it’s not like we can’t go hang at the station if we want to. We don’t usually get that much down time anyhow.”
“Uh-huh.” She glanced at the pillow and blanket folded neatly at the end of the couch. “You sleep here?”
“The night shift does, sometimes.”
“This must be worse than Nolan’s futon bed.”
“It ain’t comfortable.”
“You ever had sex here?”
John blinked. “Here? No.” His cheeks felt warm. “Never gave it much thought. Although I did have a sex dream about it once.”
“Oooh,” Lucy purred. “Tell, tell.”
“You’re really a brat, aren’t you?”
“You already knew that. Tell.”
John shifted a little, trying to conceal his ever-growing arousal. “There wasn’t much to it. I was here, on the couch, and this woman came in. And she said something about how grateful she was we’d saved her grandfather.”
“Was she somebody you actually knew?”
“No. I don’t think so. I mean, I didn’t recognize her. But in the dream I did. Like I’d seen her before. But I don’t think she’s anyone from real life.”
“So what happened?”
John could feel his cheeks burning now. “There isn’t much more. She said she was so grateful, was there something she could do to repay us, I said we couldn’t accept any kind of gratuity, and then she was all over me.”
“Was she hot?”
“Well, yeah. You ask a lot of questions.”
Lucy nodded. “Fantasies interest me. Would you do it?”
“What, in real life?”
“Yes.”
“No. I couldn’t. I mean, it wouldn’t be ethical.”
“Would you pretend?”
Krulak’s cock ached against the zipper of his pants now. “Pretend.”
“Pretend. Here. With me. Tonight. I could be grateful.”
“I…uh. I’d like to, but…”
“What time’s good?”
John closed his eyes, fighting for control. Right now is good. Go lock the door. “I don’t know,” he said, looking at her again. “It would depend on when they get runs. But, um, they always go to dinner at midnight, if they don’t have a call.”
Lucy smiled brightly. “Midnight it is.”
“Uhh…”
Her smile faltered. “No?”
“Yes. Absolutely yes. Just, um, if there’s anyone here, other paramedics…”
“John, I have done some sneaking around before.”
“Okay. Should I wear my uniform?”
She thought about it. “Nooo. Too obvious.”
“Right. Wouldn’t want that.”
She smiled again, then leaned to kiss him chastely on the cheek. “I can’t wait.”
John glanced at the clock and counted the hours until midnight.
Chapter Six
He parked his car around the corner and walked up to the shed. It was five minutes to midnight. Thankfully the squad was gone. He hoped they were at dinner and not on a run that would bring them back too soon.
This is crazy, he told himself. You’re going to get caught.
The idea sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t fear. His body felt alive, tingling again. This girl and her ideas had his sex drive shifted into overdrive. He felt better than he had in months. All his stupid, crazy thoughts about different sex were gone. He was sure of himself again. He could feel the testosterone flooding his veins.
He turned the light on. Then he turned it off. They might see it from the firehouse. But if they did, they wouldn’t think anything of it. He turne
d it on again. By its harsh light, the room looked even dingier. On the other hand, groping around in the dark was not exactly in the spirit of things. He crossed to the little office and turned the light on in there, then went back to turn the main light off. The side lighting softened the grunge of the space, yet let him see clearly.
Yeah. Big manly straight guy, and you’re worried about the ambient lighting. Nice.
John took the condom out of his pocket and put it on the little table beside the couch. He sat down, put his hands behind his head, tried to look casual. Too cocky. He sat forward, put his elbows on his knees. Too awkward. He tried to remember what the heck paramedics did when they weren’t sitting around waiting for their illicit sex partner to arrive.
They make coffee.
John shook his head. Nothing would tip off the night shift to his presence faster than fresh coffee. Maybe he should be doing paperwork or something. Checking his equipment.
He glanced down at his crotch. The equipment was all ready. Eager. Just thinking about Lucy made his cock stir.
He wondered what she’d told Nolan about her late-night outing.
And just that quickly, his passion was cooled.
Nolan. Damn it. Nolan didn’t want her. Not sexually. He’d said it was okay. At least, Lucy said he had, and she didn’t have any reason to lie. He should have just talked to Crane about it during their shift. This sneaking around was making him nervous. Just talk to him, man to man, make sure he was cool with it. And if he wasn’t, then John would apologize and never touch Lucy again.
The shed door opened. Lucy came in. She wore a short, full denim skirt and a white blouse that would have been demure if it had been buttoned up two more buttons. Her lips sparkled with lip gloss, and her eyes sparkled with breathtaking lust.
John lurched to his feet. “Uh, hello.”
She smiled and moved very close. “I was hoping you’d be here alone.”
“All alone.”
“What you did today,” Lucy licked her lips, “that was amazing. I’m so very grateful.”
John had half-expected to feel ridiculous with this little game. But he slipped into the fantasy with dizzying speed. Nolan. I was thinking about Nolan, I should be honest with him. Lucy put her little hands on his chest and kneaded him like a cat, and everything about Nolan was gone.
“Just doing my job, miss.” Okay, that sounded pretty dorky.
She didn’t seem to mind. “But you did it so well. So confidently. I like confident men.” Her hands strayed up to the back of his neck and laced through his hair.
“Well, I’m glad I could help, miss.”
“And I just wish there was some way I could thank you properly.” She stood on her tiptoes and pulled his head down. Her lips brushed against his, teasing but not quite connecting. “Can you think of anything I could do for you?”
John’s head was swimming, his whole body was alive with want. He caught her wrists and pulled her hands away. “I’m sorry, miss, but we’re really not allowed to accept gratuities.”
Lucy struggled gently. “Not even special favors?”
“Afraid not.”
She gave up on getting her hands free, and instead slid her feet forward and rubbed her pelvis against his. John felt his cock spring to attention, straining against his jeans. He groaned very softly. “Sorry, miss.”
She pushed herself even closer. “But I really, really want to.” She licked her lips again. “See, I even put on special lip gloss. It’s peppermint. You want to taste? It’s warm.”
“Uhhh…”
“Just try,” she urged. “You’ll like it.”
“This is a bad idea,” John said. He leaned forward and kissed her, still keeping their hands between them. Her lips did taste like peppermint. He pulled back and licked his own lips. His tongue grew faintly warm.
“Nice, huh?” Lucy asked.
“Tasty. But I still can’t…”
“Imagine how it would feel on your cock.”
“Look, miss, I can’t…”
“All slippery and hot and wet. Imagine sliding in and out. All that peppermint all over your skin, warm and sweet, and this tongue, I can do things with this tongue.”
Her body was still pressed against him, and he could see in Lucy’s eyes that she loved the effect her words were having. “You’re killing me, girl,” he muttered. “What if we get caught?”
“We won’t get caught.” She finally got her hands free and ran them over his chest again. Then she pushed, gently, and John backed up and lowered himself to the couch. “And I won’t tell anybody, I promise.”
“I shouldn’t…”
Lucy dropped to her knees, pushed his knees apart and moved very close. “Kiss me,” she said, “like you mean it.”
He locked his hands behind her head and kissed her hard. His lips forced hers apart, and his tongue ravaged her mouth. She gave as good as she got. He felt his erection grow harder still. This woman knew all the buttons to push with him. She could turn him on with a lick of her lips and drive him absolutely crazy with just her tongue. She was by far the best lover he’d ever had.
He wondered, in a distant corner of his mind, what she thought of him.
Then her hands reached his zipper, and all rational thought left him.
She opened his pants and pushed down his briefs, freed his aching cock with one hand and cupped his balls with the other. Her upper hand stroked the head, ran down the shaft. Her lips and tongue continued their mock battle with his, and then abruptly she pulled away and dropped her mouth directly over the head of his cock.
It was almost an attack, and almost too intensely erotic. John took a deep breath and held it, looked up at the ceiling and tried to remember the first twenty decimal points of pi. Or the first ten presidents. Or the multiplication table for nine. Distraction, any distraction, anything to take his mind off the sudden, overwhelming excitement that threatened to make him come right then.
He got to fifteen digits before the peppermint caught up. It was warm and slick going on, spreading over his shaft. As her mouth pulled away, the mint felt sharply cool. Then hot again as her mouth descended. Her tongue was everywhere, as it had been on his mouth. It was incredible.
He was going to explode.
“Please,” he gasped.
She slid her mouth away and looked up. “You don’t like it?”
“I like it. Oh I like it.”
Her hands took over for her mouth and slid eagerly up and down his aching cock, caressing the head, one fingertip tracking the sensitive crease where head and shaft met. John shivered and his desire came over him in waves. Her pretty face. Her knowing hands. “Please,” he said again.
Lucy gestured with her head toward the condom. Her hands slowed a bit, maintaining his hard edge of arousal without pushing him any closer to the edge. He picked up the condom. His hand was shaking. He fumbled to open the foil and ended up dropping it onto the couch.
“Got it,” Lucy murmured.
John tried to watch how she opened the packet with one hand this time, but the room was too dim and her fingers were too fast. Her one hand never stopped stroking his erection, but with the other she produced the condom. She rolled it onto his cock without missing a stroke. “Lie back,” she whispered.
“Ahhhhhhh…”
“Shhh.” She pushed him back and to the side, and John lowered himself onto the couch. Her hands still didn’t cease their expert arousal of his cock, even as she stood. She lifted one foot like a dancer and stretched it over him, lowering her knee onto the couch next to his hips. And still the hands, taunting, urging, enticing. John felt his desire spike, the fire in his blood demanding release. It was unbearable, and he never wanted it to end.
Her hands stopped, and an instant later she lowered her hips over his. His cock slipped into her ready body easily, and then her inner muscles squeezed him hard. John gasped. Then she moved, up and away, then down, thrusting his body deeper into hers. Riding him. Possessing him. Controlling
him.
He thought he heard a vehicle outside. The squad was back. If the night shift medics opened the door now…
Lucy rode him hard, fast, brought him to the edge, then stopped. John clenched his teeth to hold back a scream.
They’d tell the story all over the department, and his name as a cocksman would be more legendary than it was now.
She started again, moving up and down on his cock faster and faster, and with every stroke her cunt grabbed him, milked him, barely relaxing as she drew away. She seemed to know exactly how far to take him, right to the edge but not quite over it. John’s whole body began to shake with desire. He was going to die if he didn’t climax soon—and he was almost looking forward to it.
He wanted it to go on forever.
And then he couldn’t hold back one more minute.
He grabbed her waist to take control of her motion. He thrust upward as hard as he could, straining to get his cock deeper inside her. Lucy met his drive for three deep thrusts. Then she screamed from behind tightly clenched teeth and he felt her climax begin.
John uttered his own stifled scream and came.
They rode the wave of orgasm together, with occasional gentle thrusts just to prolong it a little more. The hot edge of passion faded into a hot orange glow and then cooled further.
“Yeah,” Lucy breathed.
“Damn,” John answered.
And then, too quickly, she moved. She stood, drawing her body off his softening cock, and stepped neatly onto the floor. Demurely, she smoothed her short skirt. “Thank you, John,” she said.
“Wait. Wait a minute.” He sat up. “Lucy, wait.”
She grinned, licked her peppermint-shiny lips. “Gotta go. Don’t want to get caught.” Then she was gone.
John sat up. He felt shaky, wrung out. Again. He caught his breath, then stood, cleaned up, zipped up. He glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite twenty after twelve. He had lots of time.
By habit, he started a new pot of coffee. He’d turned on the power switch before he realized what he was doing. The night shift was going to know someone had been here.
He grinned to himself. Well, let ’em wonder. They’d never believe the real answer. Poor suckers.