Five Alarm Alphas

by Leah Braemel, Lexxie Couper, Delilah Devlin, Marie Harte, Desiree Holt, Lissa Matthews, Cari Quinn, Shelli Stevens

  Was she memorizing this moment, just like he was? Blake cleared his throat. “Baby, have I told you lately that you’re beautiful?”

  A slight, sad smile curved the corners of her mouth. “Have I told you that you take my breath away?”

  His cock surged, and the time for talking, for thinking, was over. He had to have her now. He strode for her, knowing he had to look a little scary because his jaw was tensed, and his shoulders were bunched.

  His Sherry didn’t back up an inch. She lifted her chin, her eyes getting bigger as he drew close. When he stood right in front of her, he watched as she slowly turned and held her hair aside, giving him access to her zipper.

  His hands shook, but he managed to tug down the little tab without ruining her dress, and then palmed it off her shoulders and over her hips when it snagged there. She was naked, having stuffed her underwear into her purse after their tryst in the park.

  He picked her up and walked toward the bed, laying her down so that her butt rested at the edge and her lovely, curvy legs dangled. Then he knelt, lifting her thighs to drape over his shoulders as he began to love her. If this was the last time, he’d make damn sure any man who followed would never measure up.

  At the first bold stroke of his tongue, she drew in a deep, harsh breath. Her pussy clenched, but he wasn’t having any of that. He forked his fingers, spreading her folds, and dove in, licking along the length of her pink inner folds, then teasing toward her entrance. He used the flat of his tongue, stroking her over and over, but never giving her either of the things she wanted most—penetration or stimulation of her clit.

  Her fingers sank in his hair and pulled. Her heels drummed his back. “Bastard,” she whispered.

  He lifted his head to give her a narrowed look. “Really think you should be cussin’ me, now?”

  Her lips formed a pout. “Thought you’d be nicer, seeing as I didn’t make you chase me.”

  Blake grinned and pushed the pad of his thumb against her anus.

  Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

  “Making sure you don’t interrupt me again. Take this as a warning.” Then, keeping his thumb there, pressing but not entering, he resumed licking.

  She sighed and shifted restlessly beneath him. But he wasn’t fooled. Her arousal was reawakening. He could feel it in the subtle quivers of her thighs, in the moisture slowly seeping from inside her. He gave her another broad stroke, then swirled his tongue inside her entrance, rimming it over and over, teasing her with the occasional plunge.

  Her fingers dug into his scalp. “Blake. Please. Enough.”

  Blake relented. Swirling upward, raking his whiskers against her soft inner thigh, suckling her folds and releasing them, then at last arriving at her clit. Already, it protruded—a lovely, rosy little knot. He kissed it, earning a hiss. Then pressed his wet tongue against it.

  “Not a start button,” she gasped, tightening her thighs against his ears.

  “Sure about that?” He swiped it with his tongue to wet it, then pressed again.

  Her hips bucked. Heels dug into his back.

  Keeping pressure applied, he rotated his head.

  A thin, keening sound escaped from her.

  He pulled back. “I think you’re ready.”

  Her glare should have blistered. Instead, he gave her a smug smile, shoved his pants off his hips, and crawled up her body, taking his time and making sure his cock dragged up her leg and bumped her mound before he settled between her legs, snug against her entrance.

  Moisture glazed the surface. So he prodded her, waiting for the clasp of her inner muscles, and then halted. With his weight held on his elbows, he glanced down at her. “You’re a mess, Miz Thacker.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Why, suh, you say the sweetest things,” she said, exaggerating her drawl.

  “Remember our first time?” he whispered and then suppressed a smile. She looked dazed, and now he was asking her to think. He’d lay money she couldn’t do it. How long would it take for her to get sassy?

  “Our first time?”

  “Yeah, when I popped your cherry.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Um, was it in the back of your truck?”

  He narrowed his eyes. Her first time had also been his. No way had she forgotten.

  “Was it that time we did it in the janitor’s closet at school?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hmmm…” Her glance slid sideways, then flicked up again. “I’ve got it. I remember now.”

  He liked the sweet tone of her voice, silky but slightly husky. Her bedroom voice. “Tell me where?”

  She gave him a wide-eyed look. “On my bed at home. My parents went out to dinner, and you came to see me.”

  He grunted. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? It was my house, my parents gone. I wanted a bed underneath you for your first time. And no worries about interruptions.” He trailed a finger down her cheek. “Do you remember what I told you? When I was on top of you, just like this?” Her gaze held steady, and he thought for a moment there, she didn’t.

  But she drew a deep breath, one that pushed the soft tips of her breasts against his chest. “You said, I didn’t have to be scared,” she whispered. “That you’d never hurt me.”

  “And I meant it, baby. I still do.”

  Her glance dropped to his chest. “Do you think it’s too late?” she said, a hint of tears in her voice.

  “Never,” he said gruffly. “Not if we still love each other.”

  “I love you.”

  “But are you in love with me, baby?”

  She gave a slow blink, and then her gaze locked with his. “I was wondering the same thing earlier. Whether you were still in love with me.”

  “You doubt it?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Do you?”

  Blake tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Will telling you make your doubts go away? Because, hon, I don’t think my loving you or not is what caused all this…commotion.”

  Sherry’s lips pursed. “You’re right. It’s not what started it, but it’s made me think about things. Things I’m not willing to overlook. If you love me, deep down, you should really be trying harder to understand what got me so hot in the first place.”

  For Blake, his frustration was as thick as a blanket, just as suffocating. And as hard as he tried, he couldn’t kick it off. He wanted to ask her to explain because he really didn’t get it, obviously didn’t get her. Which he supposed was her point. And because he didn’t want her to see the defeat in his eyes, he glanced down between their bodies. “Tomorrow’s another day, sweetheart. I’m not giving up so easy. You shouldn’t either.”

  Her mouth quirked up at one corner, but her eyes remained sad. “Make love to me? And after, will you hold me?”

  Fuck, her request sounded like goodbye. He could swear he felt the bonds between them loosen, and it scared him. “I’ll stay as long as you let me,” he repeated, then slowly slid inside her, not stopping until the tip of his cock touched her cervix.

  He was as deep as he could get. Their bodies connected. He wanted to stay like this, never pull away, because he didn’t want to lose the feeling of being a part of her, of breathing the air she exhaled, or losing the rhythm of her heart.

  Sherry was his. His. Didn’t she know that? Couldn’t she feel that?

  His strokes grew in strength—deep, jolting thrusts.

  She didn’t seem to mind. Her fingernails dug into his skin, raking his back and ass. No, she wasn’t complaining. She demanded. More. More. More.

  When both of them were breathing hard, making lusty, pleasure-filled noises, he let his worries go. They were in the zone. Fuck, we should never leave it. When they were like this, one on one, bodies moving in synch, there wasn’t room for discord or worry. Anger and pride were swept away. And in the moment when his balls tightened, and he knew he was about to blow, he gathered her closer. That was when a flash of inspiration struck him. He realized where he’d failed her.

>   While his body crashed into hers and they were both swept away, one little sliver of sanity held tight to the thought. He could make this right. They still had a chance.

  Chapter Five

  “Don’t forget you have to review that proposal from Jameson Construction for the roadwork for the new industrial park.”

  Sherry shook her head. She almost said, “What?” And the question wouldn’t have come out in a polite way. Martha’s timing sucked big hairy toes. She kept a smile in place for those mingling around her, but gave Martha a hard stare. “You realize I have a week to prepare, right?”

  “The only right time is the moment you take now,” Martha said in her most sanctimonious tone, clasping her notebook to her bosom.

  Sherry tilted her head to gaze harder at her assistant. “You and I need to have a come-to-Jesus moment,” she said, moving closer to Martha so no one else would overhear them. Not that Sherry was very worried. The wet down ceremony was well underway. Children were crawling all over the old engine, getting one last chance to sit in the driver’s seat.

  Benny and another fireman had started taking small groups of children for rides around the block. As soon as the last group finished their ride, the ceremony would begin, which would be followed by the spaghetti dinner. Now was not the time for this discussion, but Sherry took a deep breath anyway. “The only right time is the moment you take now,” she muttered, repeating Martha’s words. “I didn’t want it to be here, but you’ve forced my hand.” Sherry stepped closer, ignoring the way Martha stiffened. She was watching the other woman’s eyes.

  Martha wasn’t affronted or hurt; she was furious.

  “You know,” Sherry said, keeping her voice relaxed, her twang deepening. “I think you and I simply don’t…suit. Two strong women…” She shook her head and pretended more sincerity than she felt. “Parks and Recreation needs a new administrator. Someone to follow around all those college interns and biologists to make sure they aren’t misusing the city’s equipment. I’m recommending you for the job.”

  Martha’s mouth opened, and a flush stained her cheeks.

  “Think before you speak,” Sherry said, raising her hand. “You really don’t want me sitting down with you to discuss how you’ve interfered with personal matters of mine, do you now?”

  Martha’s gaze fell away. “I was only hoping to keep you focused on your work… apprise you of…concerns.”

  Sherry recalled how Martha had called her to warn her about Lois Freely. “That girl whizzed right down the firehouse pole, the chief standin’ right there. Might have broken a leg. And then where would the city be? She hadn’t signed a waiver….”

  Only she had. And Blake had been ready to tell her all about Lois Freely, had opened his mouth to complain about the mosquito that had buzzed around him for a day, but Sherry had cut him off, primed to anger by Martha’s slant of the story. She hadn’t been ready to listen.

  She left Martha looking unsure whether she was happy with the promotion or not. Sherry didn’t care one way or the other—she wouldn’t be managed by anyone.

  One problem solved, she turned back to scan the gathering crowd.

  The old engine was pulling into the drive beside the new one. Her husband strode toward her, a microphone in his hand. “We set up the PA, in case you’d like to say a few words.”

  Sherry nodded, trying to keep the blush from building in her cheeks. The things they’d done the night before… Lord, both of them wondering if that night would be their last together… Today, they felt sore and haggard after a night of decadent delights. Or at least he’d commiserated with her on the phone before she arrived. Eyeing him now, no one would know he’d had only an hour’s sleep.

  Blake cleared his throat and led her to a dais they’d erected for the event. After making introductions, he handed the mike to Sherry.

  “It’s a proud day for Caldera. And for my husband.” She gave him a warm smile, something she knew surprised him, but she edged closer and held his hand, as she continued talking about the plans the city and Blake had for the department, and the new firefighters they hoped to make into permanent, paying positions. “Pastor Grimble will follow me with an invocation…”

  She handed off the mike and tried to slip her hand away from Blake’s to leave the platform, but his grin was wide as he held tight. His gaze went over the crowd. “A wet down ceremony is an old firehouse tradition. We pay our respects to a loyal old engine, and welcome the new engine with a splash of water. No, we aren’t getting out the hoses.” He waved his hands as children groaned their disappointment. “Dinner’s waiting inside the bay, so we’ll settle for buckets.”

  His gaze cut to Sherry. “And since we have a brand new mayor…” His gaze narrowed, and chuckles began sounding from the crowd.

  Sherry’s eyes widened as she realized what else he was planning to wet down. “You wouldn’t.”

  “How long have you been married to me?”

  She tugged on her hand, while inside, warmth began like an ember, burning inside her. “Blake Henry Thacker. You will not wet me down.”

  While she said it loudly enough the crowd could hear, she gave him a mock scowl, lips pursed to still her laughter. Her relief was too great to be truly upset over any loss of dignity for the coming spectacle.

  Blake grinned and ducked down, placing his shoulder against her belly, then lifting her off her feet.

  The crowd cheered, children giggled—and so did quite a few of the womenfolk gathered.

  Blake set her down beside the fire truck and gave Lois Freely a nod. Her camera snapped along with several others, and then the firefighters, all dressed in their shiny dark blue uniforms, lined up in front of them holding large yellow buckets.

  She expected Blake to move away, but he put his arm around her shoulder and lifted a hand as he began the count, “Three…Two…” with the crowd counting along.

  On one, he smiled down at her. A second later, cold water splashed them both. Her makeup ran. Her hair was a mess. That would be the photo of the day in Lois’s magazine and on the front page of the local newspaper, but Sherry didn’t care. Blake had honored her by letting her be a part of the ceremony.

  He pulled her close, tipped up her chin and kissed her, much to the delight of their cheering audience.

  “Oh for Pete’s sake, get a room,” Josh yelled out.

  “I brought you a fresh set of clothes from the house,” Blake whispered in her ear.

  “Where am I supposed to change?”

  “The locker room’s off limits until we both reappear.” His eyebrows gave a wicked waggle.

  She smacked his chest. “We can’t! They’ll all be counting the minutes.”

  “No doubt. Can’t be too quick, or my manhood will be in question.” He chuckled against her hair. “Benny will start the dinner. The firefighters are serving.”

  He lifted his chin toward the white tables set up inside the bay. The firemen who were acting as servers were dressed in their tightest t-shirts.

  Yes, plenty of distraction there. She grasped his hand. “I might need help with a zipper.” She stepped forward.

  His hand tugged her back again. He leaned toward her cheek. “After that shower, I’ll let you slide down my pole.”

  ***

  Fall had come at last to Caldera. A relief to Sherry, who had suffered the effects of the long Texas summer more than usual. The doctor’s call confirmed the reason why. She hung up the receiver and sat back in her big leather chair.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Miz Thacker?”

  She’d hired an intern to replace Martha, saving the city some money for a few months while she vetted him to see whether he’d work out. Fresh out of college with a Political Science degree, David was eager for the experience of working in small town government. The fact he was handsome wasn’t something she’d missed, but was not the reason she’d hired him, she’d assured Blake, who always seemed to find excuses to come over to her office in his firehous
e tee, big guns flexed, just so the scrawny intern didn’t get any ideas.

  Not that Blake was truly jealous or worried about her being dissatisfied in their marriage. Yes, they still had their spats. Usually about his leaving his socks beside the couch rather than neatly stowed in the hamper. Sometimes, he let her win. Sometimes, she let him feel like the victor. That was the give and take in their marriage.

  A marriage she was more thankful for than ever. She rotated in her chair toward the blinds, which were rolled high. Blake got her. That day after he’d included her in the wet down and then let her slide down the pole, she’d asked him, “How’d you know?”

  “I don’t claim to understand everything about you, Sherry. It took me a while to figure out you were more upset she slid down the pole than you were over the fact I saw her underwear. You weren’t really all that jealous of her. I get that.” He shook his head. “Just another mystery of the feminine mind.”

  “But you did that. For me. Even though you thought I lost my mind.”

  “Now, how could I let some strange woman slide down my firehouse pole when I’d never invited my wife to do the same? I could kick my own ass for the oversight, but, hon, I honestly didn’t want you hurting yourself. We don’t even use that pole much anymore. It’s a safety issue.”

  The whole argument seemed trivial now. Maybe it had been a hormonal thing. They had just passed the seven year mark of their marriage. Perhaps there was some basis for the curse of the “Seven Year Itch.”

  Maybe they’d been so bent on succeeding at work, they’d drifted apart. If so, that was no longer the case. They’d never been more in tune than they were now. Perhaps cliché, they really did finish each other’s sentences. They made love with true passion. And they’d made the decision to quit putting off making a family together.

  Blake would be thrilled with her news, and she couldn’t wait a second longer to tell him. Quickly, she gathered her purse, turned off her desk lamp and let herself out her door, taking the stairwell at the side of the building rather than the front because she didn’t want to meet anyone else before she saw him.