FireWolf

by Anh Leod

  Smokie only picked at his meal, distracted by both the sight of beautiful Olivia and the question of what she really thought about him. He had wondered what kind of woman propositioned a firefighter out of the blue like that, but she had called him later, so he had guessed she wanted a relationship with him. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He knew he shouldn’t care, not when he’d happily taken what she offered from the start, as if she were just some hose bunny, but he’d always turned down the groupies before this.

  Maybe the real problem was, he didn’t do meaningless flings. He preferred the girls who were really into him, the ones who cared if he called or not. Really, he’d only dated five or six girls in his life because he did relationships. Serial monogamy, his mother called it, but he’d been happy enough. Both the enjoyment of long-term closeness then the thrill of the chase again when things got too staid. Olivia was probably his only long-term crush. He’d pursued and won everyone else who had gotten his dick hard.

  “Fantastic,” Olivia praised, setting her fork down on the empty plate of amygdalopita. “I’d only had baklava before, but this was well worth ordering. Sorry I ate it all.”

  Smokie leaned across the table and wiped a stray streak of whipped cream from her cheek. “You’re sweet enough for me.”

  As Olivia’s hand moved under the table toward his button flap and gave his cock a quick, naughty squeeze, he saw Barkley enter the restaurant with his wife. The pack seer grinned and nodded when he saw Smokie then winked.

  “I’m glad you called,” Olivia said. “This was fun.”

  It seemed the seer approved of Smokie’s date. He had never done so before, even when Smokie dated within the pack. He wondered what the approval meant as he smiled back at Olivia.

  He paid their bill over her protest then they left, holding hands. When they were safely outside, he said, “I couldn’t help noticing that you didn’t wear a bra tonight.”

  He watched gleefully as her nipples pebbled and protruded against her dress in response.

  She narrowed her eyes. “This has enough support and I’m not large.”

  “No toys tonight? But you have your own way of doing things.” He pressed her up against the wall of the building next to the parking lot and found her nipples with his fingers. “Hold on, I feel something.”

  She grinned when he found the silver chain under her dress that linked the nipple clamps which easily adjusted to her comfort level. He considered raising the rings that would tighten the clamps, but he knew she was new to nipple bondage, had tried it just for him. The thought got him so hot he wanted to impale her on his cock instantly.

  “Are you trying to make me crazy?”

  “I went shopping in Seattle,” she said. “You can find all kinds of stuff in the big city.”

  He tugged gently at the chain. He watched the skin above her neckline redden and she wriggled her hips. “Bet you’re bare-assed under that dress, too.”

  In response, she lifted the front of her skirt. No one but him would be able to see that she wasn’t wearing panties. He bit back a groan and found her lips with his. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was one of the Brotherhood, considering how free she was with her body.

  “You make me insane with lust,” he muttered.

  She kissed his jaw, licked his neck. “I’m so wet. Let’s do it right here, okay?”

  Smokie felt his shorts dampen as pre-cum leaked from his cock. “Anyone might pull up. We’re in a parking lot!”

  “Better do it fast then.” She grabbed for his belt.

  He let her have her way. Who was he kidding? She was a freaking miracle. Thankfully he had a condom in his back pocket. When she had his cock free, he rolled it on and hiked her right leg to his waist so he could access her slit.

  He rubbed along her labia with his cock. She was as wet as she’d claimed and he pressed into her, found her cunt and slid home.

  She muffled her cry of pleasure against his neck as he seated himself fully. He didn’t pause or her give her time to accommodate him, simply took his pleasure exactly as he wanted—hard and fast. Her hips met his with every hungry thrust. He felt fine muscle tremors under the hand he used to keep her leg hiked.

  The scent of them mingling was more of an aphrodisiac than the risk of them being caught. He wanted to last, but the feeling of her hot cunt trailing cream across his naked thighs made his balls tighten.

  His hips ratcheted up their rhythm. Olivia’s breath came in short bursts and she murmured something he was too focused to understand. Behind them, headlights flashed as a car pulled into the parking lot. He gripped her free hand in his and pumped once, twice, a third time, desperate to complete his mission before they were interrupted.

  She let out a low, shrill sound. “You have to help me.”

  He let go of her hand and reached between their bodies, finding her slick nub. His fingers circled it then pressed. Her hips jerked then she sighed audibly and he felt a fresh release of her cream as her cunt milked him.

  Stars flared in his darkened vision as he lost control, thrusting helplessly, deep inside her cunt. The tension broke as he found his release, jetting cum. While he panted, doors slammed nearby. He wished he could make them invisible.

  He heard a low chuckle and a man’s voice saying, “Fuck, people. Get a room.”

  Olivia buried her head in his shoulder. He released her leg and cradled her face, hoping the passersby couldn’t see enough to identify her.

  She was gasping by the time they were gone. “That was really close, huh?”

  “It excited you when the car came,” he observed.

  She grinned, speaking between breaths. “It all excited me. You seeing the nipple clamps, the feel of the cold wall on my ass, the lights—as if we were going to get caught.”

  “We did get caught.”

  “Not in any meaningful way, like being recognized.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I guess we’ll find out.”

  “At least we weren’t near a streetlight.”

  “Noticed that, did you? I thought you were all about the danger. First the breakroom, now this.”

  She stroked his face. “Are you irritated?”

  He wrapped the condom in his restaurant receipt and stuffed it into his pocket then pulled his pants up and fixed her skirt. “Not at all, I just want to be clear about what really turns you on.”

  “Really?” She reached into her dress and removed the clamps and chain, moaning a bit as her blood flow rearranged itself.

  “Sure, gives me more ideas about how to seduce you.” He waggled his brows.

  “I like a little bit of risk,” she said slowly. “I’m not so in to beds. They remind me of duty sex.”

  “Duty sex?”

  She made a face. “You know, the kind you don’t really want. I was married for twelve years to Mister Tuesday-And-Saturday-Without-Fail, always in bed, on my back.”

  “At least we’re killing your pattern.”

  She laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “Are you going to wear that nipple chain again for me?”

  “You’ll have to call and find out.”

  “Can I put in an order? I liked the binders too.”

  “Call and find out,” she repeated.

  After Smokie dropped Olivia at home, he still felt as though he was going out of his mind with sexual energy. He simply couldn’t get enough of her and that need disturbed him enough that he declined her invitation to come inside for another round.

  He parked his car at the firehouse and shifted in the darkest shadow of the building then set out for a run. The night wind felt glorious whistling past his muzzle and a sniff of the air brought news of his pack. He wasn’t the only one running tonight.

  In a clearing, he trotted toward his clan mates, tail held high. He shared sniffs with the two young females playing there then allowed them to rub his head with theirs. One brown-and-gray beauty had just licked his muzzle when two large males bounded into view. Duke and Shamsky. He’
d interrupted a date. His theory was reinforced when his buddies bowed to the females. Yeah, they were both hoping to get some. He couldn’t blame them, since he’d had some incredible sex tonight himself.

  Pretending to scent prey, he howled a greeting and bounded off as the males pranced around the females. Truth be told, he only smelled mice. Luckily he wasn’t hungry.

  He ran aimlessly for miles and when he finally slowed, he found he’d circled around to Olivia’s. Letting instinct take over, he raised his muzzle to the sky and howled.

  Far away, he heard an answering howl from another wolf. A warning from King not to spend much time near town. When a light came on in Olivia’s bedroom he raced into the woods.

  After hours of rambling, and a snack of rabbit, he scented something acrid.

  Smoke. Each Brotherhood member had one special talent and that was his. He had a better sense of smell than anyone else in his clan, especially for fire. Where was it coming from? He lifted his muzzle and let his inner senses open wide. Did he need to alert the firehouse?

  The fire blazed near Cherry Blossom, where the Legion ran things. They weren’t the enemy they had been, since Bijou had married the Legion’s alpha, Marcus Pompey, but still, there was hostility. The Brotherhood stayed out of Cherry Blossom as much as possible.

  He heard the distant wail of fire engines. As long as the fresh fire scent faded soon, he could go back to chasing rabbits and trying to outrun his lust.

  He stopped and curled his body so his nose rested under his tail, waiting for the fire to worsen or be controlled.

  * * * * *

  “What, you don’t want one?” Olivia slid to the floor, caressing Smokie’s leg.

  “You caught me off guard.” He’d been inspecting his turnout gear for wear and tear when Olivia had slinked into the firehouse in a brown tunic and skirt that matched her eyes and complemented her golden, tanned skin tone. He suspected she’d left the nipple clamps at home. Of course, she’d already told him she’d come from another meeting, as she had the first time she’d appeared in business clothes and rocked his world.

  The beautiful summer weather had most of the guys outside cleaning vehicles, but he’d taken a bucket of dirty water down the front and decided to do indoor cleaning after he changed his shirt. Seemed like he spent most of his time with a hard-on these days and he didn’t care to have his wet jeans advertising the state of his cock to passersby, or to his fellow firefighters for that matter. He’d taken enough ribbing from Shamsky this morning when he’d accused Smokie of trying to poach his date.

  Smokie hadn’t told his friend he’d just come from a fantastic fuck and hadn’t been looking for more. Oh well, just one of those misunderstandings and he was man enough to take the teasing.

  “What you were doing looked pretty boring.”

  “My equipment means the difference between life and death sometimes.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I just thought you could use a little break. No one inside but us.”

  Her slender fingertips edged up the inner seams of his jeans. Instantly, his cock throbbed as if most of the blood in his body had relocated. How had Olivia gained so much power over his body so quickly?

  He took a deep breath, trying to stop the panting that seemed to be his regular breathing pattern around her. “I don’t know much about you. Tell me something new.”

  She smiled. Today, for the first time since they’d hooked up, she wore red lipstick—all the better to leave a memorable ring around his cock that would have him remembering her the next time he showered. She’d been around the block enough to have used that lipstick on purpose.

  “Why Smokie, I didn’t know you cared.”

  He didn’t want to care, didn’t want a relationship with an older woman. Twenty-four was too young for anything serious, and she wasn’t clan, was old enough that she might be looking for permanent again. But, things seemed to be progressing inexorably and he didn’t know why.

  She squeezed between his legs, so gently that his balls felt comforted instead of at risk.

  “I care,” he said, sounding strangled nonetheless. “I know you were a lifeguard back in the day, but that was a while back.”

  “I’m slowly getting a small business underway,” she told him. “Now that I’m living here full-time again.”

  “And what brings you by?” he asked.

  “The ride of your life.” Her nimble fingers undid his belt buckle and his pants then pulled the fabric down his legs. She made an approving noise when she found his cock poking out of the waistband of his boxer-briefs then pulled those down too.

  Now, he was naked from the waist to his socks. His skin stuck to the leather sofa, squeaking as she tugged his knees apart.

  Olivia didn’t go straight for his cock. No, the woman was too devious for that. She wriggled between his legs, until they were spread far apart, and began to stroke the insides of his thighs. First with fingers, then tongue—always careful not to smear her lipstick on his skin.

  No, she was saving that, just as he’d expected. But, instead of intensifying her games, she backed off, leaned back. She pulled clips from her hair until it cascaded down, lemon-coconut fragrance filling his nose. Leaning forward again, she let the tips of her hair brush his legs until his skin prickled with awareness.

  She rested her cheek on his knee. That soft, soft skin of her face trailed up one leg and down the other. He wanted to tell her to stop torturing him, to grab that gorgeous thick hair and slam his cock down her willing throat, but she was so beautiful to watch, he couldn’t stop her.

  His leg jerked when he felt her tongue in the fold of skin between his groin and leg. She moved past his throbbing cock and licked along the fold on the other side.

  “You’re killing me!”

  “Mmmm.” Her tongue licked across his stomach, under his bellybutton, over his pubic hair.

  He couldn’t stand it anymore and pushed his fingers through her hair, making a ponytail of it. She raised her face. Her lips were swollen from teasing along his hair-roughened legs.

  “Suck me,” he ordered. “Or I’m going to blow all over your pretty face.”

  Her red lips curved, a siren’s taunt. “Maybe I’ll let you do that anyway.”

  “Don’t make me beg.” He scarcely recognized his own hoarse voice.

  She lifted her arms and disentangled his hands from her hair then clipped it back again. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners.”

  She turned to her purse and opened it then pulled out a silk-wrapped bundle of cards. Tarot, he recognized, though the pictures were a little different than he was used to seeing Nana, a clan elder, use.

  What the hell? He wanted her on his cock!

  “A sexual tarot,” Olivia confirmed, seeing the question in his expression and ignoring the demand. “Hand drawn.” She spread a few cards so he could see the swords were all erect cocks, the cups pussies. “Pick one for yourself.”

  He chose at random, wanting this over with so she could get back to the real cock.

  “Ah, the ace of cocks,” she said, grinning openly. “It’s time to focus on you.”

  He groaned. “Could have told you that.”

  She used the card to stroke his leg. The muscles jerked under the abrasion as the card moved up.

  “Pick one for yourself,” he rasped.

  She chose one at random and turned over the card. He saw a woman and rabbits.

  “Traditionally pentacles. This is the queen of rabbits for this deck. Now, she’s a lady I like. Classy, self-assured, yet doting.”

  “Sexual?”

  She laughed. “Ever heard of fucking like bunnies?”

  “And yet you aren’t even touching my cock.”

  She stroked the card down her chest, between her breasts. Smokie ached to put his head between them, to bite her pretty nipples.

  “Come here,” he ordered. “If you won’t suck me, I’ll take on your damp little clit. Get you in the mood for more.”


  She dropped the card and hitched up her skirt to mount him, the heat in her gaze unmistakable.

  From behind him the sound of the alarm went off. The light above the door flashed and his pager vibrated.

  “Fire,” he groaned. “Sorry, rain check.” With deep regret, he lifted her from him and set her on the couch, then grabbed for his clothes.

  “Be safe,” she said. “Come by my house when you’re off shift.”

  He leaned down and kissed her forehead, already focused on the mission ahead.

  * * * * *

  “Reported structure fire,” Shamsky said as Smokie arrived at his turnout gear.

  He pushed his pants legs over his boots and climbed into them then pulled up his gear. Four of the firefighters were assigned to the first-due engine and within two minutes they were racing toward the fire.

  When they arrived, Smokie saw a two-story frame house with dark smoke billowing from all the street-facing upper windows.

  “This is going to be a bad one,” Barkley said, shaking his head.

  “I’m going to do a walk around,” Owen Hotchkiss, the chief officer, also Olivia’s cousin, said. “Smokie, go next door to the left and see if they know if anyone’s at home. Shamsky, to the right. Barkley, get the engine on the fire hydrant.”

  Smokie ran to the house he was assigned and banged on the door then rang the doorbell, but no answer came and no cars were parked in the driveway. When he returned, Shamsky was telling Owen, “The owner is pretty deaf and has no idea if anyone is in the house.”

  “We’ve got a motorcycle to the side here, but no cars.”

  “Maybe in the garage,” Smokie suggested. The door was closed.

  “Let’s get going,” Owen said.

  They formed their attack line and after no response came from the front doorbell, Owen broke it open easily with his boot. “No fire visible here,” he said.

  They walked single file into a hallway that led to a living room, also clear, then peered into the kitchen to see no sign of fire all the way to the glass door leading out to the backyard. “Let’s get upstairs and see what we’re dealing with,” Owen said.

  Smokie could hear a siren outside, indicating the second-due engine was on its way from Ladder Company Two.