by Kira Blakely
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Her brown curls eased over the curve of her breasts, beneath the bright blue blankets, and her shoulders were smooth. I sensed I needed to return to my other firefighters. There was still so much work to do. All eyes were upon me.
But I felt, even as I gazed upon her, that she was the most wonderful thing I could ever live for.
“It’s going to be all right, sweet girl,” I whispered to her, reaching forward and easing her bangs away from her eyes. “It’s all over, now. And you can rest.”
Mason appeared behind me, then. “Come on, New Guy. You know the work’s never over. You know that better than any of us.”
I did.
I turned away from her quiet form, instructing several neighbors to watch over her until the paramedics arrived. And then, I turned back toward the black smoke, still billowing from the tiny home.
Chapter 6
Sarah
I wasn’t sure where I was, or really what I was. In some sense, my brain knew I shouldn’t be alive. And when my eyes opened, and I found myself peering at a dark green canopy of trees, I wondered, abstractly, if I was in some kind of heaven. Some kind of comfortable, easy heaven: with the night sky stretching above, dotted with stars.
I could still smell the smoke. It seemed to soak into every orifice of my body, my cells. I shifted slightly, feeling the scratch of a blanket against my breasts, and then blinked again, clearing my mind. “What—“ I whispered, unsure if I’d be able to speak.
“I think she’s awake.” This was an unfamiliar voice, bright and girlish, yet older. “The smoke’s really died down. Think they can save the house?”
“Not a house that size,” another voice said. This was gruffer, masculine. “It was nothing but a shack anyway. Far as I’m concerned, think we should burn down all the houses in Fountain Square. None of them have been kept up well. Screw historical conservation.”
“Why was she naked?” the woman asked, ignoring him.
“I don’t know. But he’s coming back, now. Seems he can’t get enough of her.”
My brain ached, wanting to understand. After a moment’s hesitation, I forced my eyes to blink, to comprehend the world around me. I forced myself back to reality.
That’s when I saw him.
He wore his fireman’s uniform, but had taken off his hat and his mask and was looking at me with large green eyes—almost as if he’d been waiting to meet me his entire life. I began to shift, trying to draw myself up on my shoulders. I realized I was naked, a newborn beneath the trees. I waited for him, watching as he slumped onto his knees and peered into my eyes. Behind him, my house was crumpled and black. Tears sprung to my eyes, a strange mix of joy, relief, and sheer, unadulterated sadness.
He was the most handsome man I’d seen up close. Dark green eyes, dark blond hair curling around his ears, and this honest, yet confident smile. His accent was southern, adorable. “Hey there,” he drawled, making my stomach clench with fear. “I’m so glad you’re awake. We’ve been waiting on you.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered. “Waiting on me?”
“You didn’t think I’d leave you before you woke up, did you?” he asked, laughing slightly. He reached forward and brought his hands under my head, creating a kind of pillow. “We should have something for your head out here. You were unconscious. This can’t be good for you. At all.”
“I’m fine,” I murmured, still unable to look away from his bright, searching eyes. “My house. It’s gone?”
His face fell slightly. “I’m afraid so. The kitchen burnt to a crisp, and the rest of it is pretty damaged. Tons of heat damage. What you did was the right thing, hiding in the bathroom, with the towels beneath the door. It gave us enough time to save your life.”
I reached up and gripped his wrist. It was so thick, I wasn’t able to wrap my fingers all the way around it. “I’m such an idiot,” I whispered, remembering the dinner I was cooking, the wine I had drunk. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”
“I know,” he said, his voice scratchy and earnest. “Baby, there’s no harm done, okay? You’re safe. You’re going to be fine. And nobody else was hurt in the fire.”
“You—you saved my life,” I continued, feeling my anxiety rise within me. My heart hammered in my chest. “I have to find some way to repay you. I have to—“
I heard the sirens behind me. I turned my head swiftly, catching the ambulance as it bucked against the curb. Two paramedics rushed to the back and drew out a stretcher, before racing it toward me. I began to protest, to shake my head vehemently. I didn’t want him to let me go.
“Please,” I whispered, gazing into this strange man’s eyes. “I want to stay with you.”
“You are staying with me,” he said back, squeezing my hand. “You’re staying alive. That’s all I wanted, when I went into that house today. You lived. And you’re going to live to do amazing things.”
The paramedics eased me onto the stretcher, ensuring the blanket remained on my naked frame. I yearned for the firefighter’s hands to graze my breasts, to take over my body, to hold me tight. But he took three steps back, allowing them to move me toward the back of the ambulance.
He said he knew what was best for me.
Somehow, I had to believe him.
Moments before they lurched me into the back of the ambulance, I cried out to him, sensing his eyes still upon me.
“What’s your name?”
“Theo!” he called back, standing stoic, firm. “And I know you already. You’re Sarah.”
“Sarah Goldlein,” I said, giggling slightly. I felt butterflies flickering in my stomach. I felt alive. The memory of drawing my name on the bathroom mirror felt like a dream, now. It couldn’t have happened. And yet, he had seen it. That was the only explanation.
“Thank you, Theo. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
The paramedics pushed the stretcher into the back, tossing the doors closed behind them. The engine cranked beneath us, pushing the ambulance down Spann Avenue and toward the hospital. My heart pattered in my chest; my eyes pierced the white ambulance ceiling overhead. Frightened, panicked, I clutched the blanket atop my chest, praying, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I would see Theo again.
That we would find space for one another, under different circumstances.
Now that I was alive—and really, completely wanting to be—I would live in all the ways I hadn’t, before. I wouldn’t waste time on assholes like Josh. I would find passion, intrigue, life.
I deserved it.
Chapter 7
Theo
Mason, Dillon, and I were silent as we drove back to the station. I could still feel Sarah’s hand in mine, ghost-like, yet so eager to cling onto me. She’d seemed so innocent, so lost, laying there naked on the grass. I’d wanted to keep her safe. To guard her. To ensure nothing bad like that ever happened to her again.
But it was outside of my jurisdiction, now.
“We need to make sure the girl’s family is located,” I said, shifting in my seat.
Mason chortled slightly. “You’re sweet on her, aren’t you, Theo?”
My nostrils flared. “It’s just, she could have died. Her folks need to know, is all.”
“They’ll contact them from the hospital, I’m sure,” Mason said, skirting the engine back into the station. He cut the engine, bringing silence to the interior. We could hear nothing but our deep breathing. “It ain’t a small town around here, Theo. That girl you just saved, you might never see her again. But she’ll appreciate what you’ve done for her the rest of her life. Mark my words.”
It’s true that I was still thinking of this disaster in small town terms. Had I been back home in Alabama, I might have known that girl, personally, since the age of eight. I might have known her mother, her father. I would have driven her directly to the hospital myself.
In this case, I had to give Sarah over to the proper auth
orities. I had to let her go.
The three of us sat in the fire engine for several minutes, inhaling, and counting our blessings. Dillon had mentioned, days before, that they hadn’t had a proper call in several months, nothing more than the occasional accident on the highway.
“It’s the heat. Must be,” Dillon affirmed then, shaking his head. “Got everyone acting crazy, it does. I can feel it in the air. The other day, left the tap on in the shower for over an hour. Almost overflowed the bathroom. We’re all out of our minds. That girl’s just like us.”
We left the engine and undressed, marking time. It was just after midnight, now, and a fresh crew was coming in to replace us. The chief was seated at the circular table near the kitchen, eager to shake our hands, and lent me a final pat on the back. “First time seeing action in Indiana. And I’m told you did spectacularly. Taking the girl out yourself. Your own personal damsel in distress. How about that.”
I shook his hand, standing a full five inches over the top of him, and then offered a soft smile. This was my new home. I had ripped myself through any potential bad dreams, out onto the other side. All so I could save that girl.
“Will we be told when the girl is all right?” I asked him, my voice firm.
“I’m sure I’ll be able to call my people at the hospital,” the chief said, shrugging. “But according to Mason, she was conscious and chatting when they took her in. I can’t imagine she’ll be anything other than right as rain.”
I thanked the team, shaking both Mason and Dillon’s hands, and then sauntered down the steps toward my pickup. I felt my muscles aching, perhaps just from the stress of the fire, of inhaling smoke. Certainly not from that waif-like creature I’d held in my arms. Cranking the truck down the street, I glanced around the city, at the bright lights of the high-rise buildings, the J.W. Marriott in the distance, along with the football stadium. This was a proper city, a place of possibilities. I wasn’t in Alabama anymore.
My future could be whatever I wanted it to be.
Once I arrived home, I collapsed on the front couch, grabbing a beer from the mini fridge below. Once I popped it, I took three long sips, before pulling the hospital number up on my phone and calling it. It was just after one in the morning, but I just needed to know. I needed someone to tell me.
Was she all right?
Had anything happened on the ride to the hospital?
Was she still able to breathe?
The emergency room answered. They connected me to a different area of the hospital, where the receptionist told me that—yes, a woman named Sarah Goldlein was admitted into the hospital, but no, she couldn’t tell me anything about her well-being.
“But well-being, in and of itself, means she’s alive,” I said. “You can at least tell me that, can’t you?”
“You said you were the firefighter who saved her life?” the woman said, sounding amused.
“That’s right.”
“Don’t you do this kind of stuff all the time?”
I paused for a long moment, wondering why this seemed different. Why I felt I needed affirmation, immediately, regarding Sarah’s health.
But the woman just chuckled for a few moments, sounding amused. “Honey, I’d just go to sleep if I were you. I heard it was quite a fire. And you need your rest more than most of us. Who knows what will happen on your next shift? Who might need you, then?”
I hung up, not wanting the conversation to drag on another moment. Cracking another beer, I guzzled it, allowing a soft buzz to take over my brain. I was growing obsessed, rattled, wanting only to wrap my arms around this girl and hold her tight. Outside, what was left of her house remained crumpled, a collection of bricks and broken pieces of black wood. She wouldn’t be coming back to live. There was nothing left to scavenge. She’d have to start over.
I fell asleep sometime later, stretched out in my boxers, shirt-less and sweating on the couch. In the morning, as the sun eased through the blinds, I abandoned it, taking up refuge in my bed, grateful not to have the familiar nightmares. Instead, Sarah Goldlein erupted into my dreams, slinking through them with that thin waist, those cresting breasts, and that soft, trusting smile.
When I awoke, my cock had thrust itself through the hole in my boxers, riding up against the comforter above. I stripped it from me, easing a hand against the stiffness of my member. The veins pulsed against the skin, and a small trickle of cum had begun its course down the staff.
If she wasn’t going to come to me, I would have to do it myself.
The doorbell rang, buzzing through my ears. I shot up, my eyes like saucers. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized it was just after five in the afternoon of the following day—over twelve hours since I’d called the hospital. Shoving my cock downward, I eased from the bed, shoving my fingers through my hair. My best guesses were: the chief, one of the other firemen, or my brother, Rob, who’d probably caught wind of the fire on the news and wanted to make sure I was okay.
He was usually good like that.
Shimmering sunlight blinded me as I entered the foyer, making me unable to view who was outside. Nabbing the pair of pants I’d left near the couch the night before, I pulled them on and buttoned them. My abs were a firm line above the button. I wouldn’t bother putting on a shirt. I didn’t have time to find a fresh one.
As I opened the door, I felt sure I was still in the dream. Standing there, poised and stunning, was Sarah Goldlein. She was wearing a slinky black dress, with a V-neck that shot all the way down between her breasts. Her nipples poked from the fabric, looking firm and pointed, just as I remembered them from the previous night. Her hair lay in soft curls down her shoulders and back, giving her an angelic appearance.
Really, though. Was I dreaming?
“Hi,” she began, her voice soft and lilting. “I hope you don’t mind that I just stopped by like this.”
I laughed slightly, easing my head against the doorframe. “Didn’t expect you.”
“I bet you’re wondering how I found out where you lived?” she asked.
“Sure.” I would play along with her game, if she wanted it so bad. Why not?
“Well, I called the station. That’s how, Theo,” she said, giggling. With a flash, she lifted a bottle of whiskey from behind her leg, revealing it like a present. “I’ve brought something for you. Like a present, if you will. For all you did for me last night.”
Already, the previous night felt like a million years ago. I accepted the gift, assessing her. Why had she dressed in such an alluring way, just to drop off a gift? Gesturing with my head, I said, “Why don’t you come in and have the first drink with me?”
I watched the effect on her. It was as if I’d stripped her, said something sexual. Her cheeks turned pink; her eyes blinked several times, lost in mine. And then she nodded, following me indoors and tucking the door closed behind her.
She was trapped with me, now. She had come, willingly, into my arena. And it wasn’t like I was going to let her leave without giving me what I wanted.
As we walked, she spoke—wanting to fill the gaps, the silence. She was anxious, a little girl. “I wanted to come here and thank you. I was trying to think of something, anything, you might want in return. But I don’t think the whiskey will ever be enough.”
We’d reached the kitchen. I lifted two glasses from the cabinet and filled each with two fingers’ worth of whiskey. It was barrel-aged, from Kentucky. We clinked our glasses together, and I noticed her hand was shaking. I watched, cat-eyed, as she sipped her first bit, gasping at the strength.
She would do anything I asked her to.
I knew that, now.
“Doctor checked you out all right?” I asked her, taking a step forward. I was pinning her into the corner, watching as she shuffled backward—trying to avoid my grip. Or perhaps she was just trying to drive me wild. The last light of the evening glittered against the white of her breasts, peeking over the black V-neck. I shivered, yearning to clasp my fingers around her ni
pples.
“Yes,” she breathed, her eyelashes fluttering. “He gave me an inhaler, just in case. He said if I’d been in there another two minutes, he isn’t sure I would have made it…”
This struck me. Two minutes? That was such a minor difference. It was just a different speed in the fire engine. It was how quickly I’d cleared out of the engine, hooked up to the fire hydrant, and began to coat the kitchen with water.
But I couldn’t think about that now.
I moved forward, pressing my body along hers. She gazed into my eyes, her lower lip quivering. When she sensed this was what I wanted—all I wanted her to do—she placed her hands along my firm, muscled abdomen, then eased them down toward the bulge in my jeans.
I knew she’d never seen a cock like mine before. The minute she cracked open the button, unzipped the jeans, and revealed my massive staff, her expression changed from shock to sheer, unforeseen pleasure. She held its stiff thickness in her thin, milky hands, easing her fingers over the veins and causing a bright bit of cum to pulse from the end.
Gazing up into my eyes, she said something I’ll never forget. Never in all my life.
“You’re an animal. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
Chapter 8
Sarah
Even after I said it, I knew it wasn’t time. I wanted to make this long-lasting, a time he wouldn’t forget. When I’d woken in the hospital and that nurse had told me the firefighter had called for me again—inquiring after my health—I’d known I needed to do something. Something to ease the burden of his stressful, demanding job.
Something I knew, based on the way he’d looked at me the day before, he wanted. He wanted it more than he could say.
Theo placed his hand on my head and pushed me down to my knees slowly, until I was poised in front of his cock. I slung the rest of his jeans to the floor, watching as his mountain-man feet kicked them to the side of the room. He stood, feet wide apart, his red and veiny, thick cock pointed directly toward my face.