Hook & Ladder 69: Eighteen Authors...One Sexy Firehouse.

by Anthology

  “It was a cake. I had the bakery design it special. A truck with the sixty-nine on the sides. Flames, too. It was pretty fucking epic.” She sighs.

  I step closer, boxing her into the corner of my tiny galley kitchen. “I’m sure it was,” I murmur. “Thank you for the cake, Jenny.” I meet her stare and time stands still. She licks her lips and my eyes follow. God, I want to kiss her.

  “We’re quite the pair. Really fucked up this birthday, didn’t we?” Jen whispers.

  I cup her face in my hands and brush the pads of my thumbs along her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and I memorize everything about this moment—from the scent of charred ziti, to the smashed cake on the counter, to just how soft and pink her lips are. Then I allow myself to do what I’ve been dreaming about for months.

  My lips lock with hers and we move together, learning, tasting, sucking. I drop one hand from her face to trail my fingertips along the side of her body, loving the way she moans when I reach her hips. I use the other hand to cup the back of her neck and pull her flush with my body. We both moan between kisses.

  “God, I want you, Jenny.”

  “Have me, Brennan.” Her hands go to work, a frenzy of nimble fingers as she pulls off my shirt first and then tugs at the button of my shorts. Fuck. Yes.

  I interrupt her work to reciprocate, voiding her of the soft cotton sundress.

  She reaches for my waistband again, but I step away. My dick is already pulsing and rock hard. No way I’m gonna embarrass myself on my birthday. She gets her hands or mouth on my cock and I’m one and done in under two minutes.

  “I didn’t get dinner. Or dessert,” I say, and then run my hands and eyes over her fantastic bra. “I’m hungry.” I pull the cups down and hold her breasts in my hands. I drop my head to suck one hard nipple inside my mouth.

  “Oh, yes,” she moans, her fingers grabbing at my hair.

  Trailing kisses from her tits and down to her navel, I move to my knees, pulling her panties down to the floor. Her ragged breaths fill the room as my lips get closer to her center. I can smell her arousal and my dick throbs to be inside.

  “Put your hands on the counter,” I say, and she obeys. I pick one leg up and rest it over my shoulder. She squeals, grips the granite tight, and moans when I glide my tongue over and around her clit, then dip inside her folds.

  “Oh, God, yes. That, Brennan. Do that,” she murmurs.

  With one hand I press her close to me and continue to prop her leg up. The other I use to work two fingers inside, fucking her the way I will with my dick later. My lips suck around her swollen bud and I know she’s close. All those weeks with Amber were worth something if I learned how to rock Jenny’s world.

  I work my tongue over her bundle of nerves with a constant flick and press my fingers deeper inside. I bring her to the edge, then back off again until she’s a moaning, writhing mess. Jenny’s about to come hard and fast all over my face.

  “Yes, fuck, yes . . . I’m gonna . . . so close.” She babbles until her orgasm hits with full force. She gasps, her breath catches with pleasure, and her fingers dig into my scalp. I moan, fully aroused at the thought of them digging into my flesh while I thrust inside.

  I wait for her to come down, languidly moving my tongue around her center, her taste adding fuel to my desire.

  “Oh, fuck, Brennan. You can’t cook, but boy can you eat!”

  I grin, stand, and pull her body flush with mine so she feels every bit of my excitement. “I can cook. And I will for you, but first—”

  “I think the birthday boy needs a new gift.” Jenny leans back, putting space between us. “What would you like? A watch? A lifetime supply of sausage? Hmmm . . . Maybe a new set of baking pans?” She taps her chin and glances around the room. “I should take this off, no?” She reaches behind her, unclasps her bra, and slides the straps down her arms.

  “You,” I say, serious and honestly, and wrap my hands around her waist.

  Her gaze snaps to mine and her lips part. “Me?” she whispers.

  “You. Just you. And not only for tonight.” I place one chaste kiss on her lips.

  “Brennan O’Shea, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” Her eyes shine with unshed tears but her lips pull up at the corners.

  I return her smile with one so big it almost hurts, and nod.

  “Good.” She grins. “Now will you fuck me properly?”

  “Hell, yeah.” My hands go to her ass and I haul her up off the ground. She giggles, her hands grip my shoulders tightly, and her legs wrap around my waist. I kiss her, tenderly and sweet as I walk us to my bedroom.

  I set her on the mattress and crawl over her gorgeous body. Her brown hair fans out onto my sheets, and her lips part in the most seductive way. Fuck. Of all the birthday wishes come true I never imagined I’d call this woman mine.

  Jenny.

  My Jenny.

  Her stomach rumbles loudly, cutting the intensity of the moment.

  “And after we fuck, I cook.”

  “Make it fast, hot stuff. I’m starving,” she jokes.

  “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” I cringe. “But I promise there’ll be an encore after dinner.”

  “I love encores.” Her eyes dance and she drags her fingers down my chest to my abs. Fuck, I love that. “Brennan?” The question in her tone causes me to pause.

  “Yeah?”

  “Not complaining or anything . . . but you’ve never said more than two words to me before today. What made you change your mind? You’ve always been a great neighbor, but what made you want more?”

  She’s not sure about us—I hear the hesitance in her question, see it in her candid expression. My fault for not explaining why this thing between us is so much more than a good time.

  “I’ve always wanted more,” I admit, and her eyes widen. “This will sound so stupid.” I almost don’t continue but I need her to know. “I have a hard time talking to women.”

  “Really? You?” She almost laughs, and I nod.

  “That actually makes a lot of sense now. I just figured I wasn’t your type.”

  “Jenny, everything about you is my type.” She tries to laugh but I capture her lips with mine. I show her exactly what she does to me, and then spend the rest of my birthday making good on my promises.

  Encores and all.

  Chapter 16

  Fan the Flames by M. Stratton

  “Nobody move,” the thin, reedy voice demanded from the door of the restaurant. “Put your hands up.”

  “Shit.” Ryan O’Conner sighed and muttered under his breath, “How are we supposed to not move and put our hands up?”

  This was not how he wanted his first date with the luscious Lana Hanover, hottest burn nurse at Barnes Jewish Hospital, to start. He had had a thing for her for months now. She’d recently moved to the St. Louis area and turned down guy after guy, but said yes to him.

  He glanced over at her, wanting to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were locked on the shaking gun the punk waved around. He should have known she’d be fine, she was one of the top rated nurses at the hospital, not to mention her unit. She had nerves of steel and was displaying calm under pressure tonight. Glancing around the restaurant, he sized up the other customers. There were two couples, one older, and a few lone diners. One of those lone diners scowled, probably a permanent expression on his haughty face, obviously had money and thought he was better than everyone. Ryan knew that guy was going to be a dick.

  Thankfully, there weren’t too many customers in the tiny restaurant at this late hour. Earlier in the evening this place would have been packed. Because of Lana’s and his late shifts, they had planned on a late dinner.

  “Yeah, good. Now all of you go back into the kitchen. And you.” The punk waved his gun towards the waiter. “You lock the front door and put the closed sign up.”

  The poor kid looked about seventeen and ready to puke. Ryan knew this wasn’t going to be an easy situation, but if they all kept calm, he hoped it wo
uld be resolved without anyone getting shot. He knew calm. As one of the veteran firefighters at Station 69, he needed to be level headed entering into a burning building. This was what he did.

  Lana slowly stood up with the rest of the customers, and he followed behind her, keeping himself between her and the gun. Part of him wanted to play hero and save everyone, the kitchen provided plenty of tools he could use as a weapon, but he also knew not to bring a knife to a gun fight. The last thing he wanted was for that firearm to be discharged OR was for the unstable gunman to pull the trigger.

  “Everyone against the back wall.” The punk’s eyes erratically scanned the room. He pulled out a package of laundry line and looked at Lana. “You, come here.”

  She tensed next to Ryan, but without a word, walked over to him.

  “You need to tie everyone up. Tie their wrists tight, and then around that post. Start over here with these two.” His chin jutted over to the elderly couple. “And don’t get any ideas, I’m watching you.”

  “Can we at least bring a couple of chairs in for them?” Lana’s sweet voice was steady.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever. I don’t care. There’s some right here. Just hurry.”

  Lana made quick work of tying the couple to the post, and moved to the next person. It didn’t take long before it came down to the two of them.

  “Here, give me the rope.” The gunman looked around the kitchen; there were no more places to secure them, the last two hostages. “Come on.” He led them back to one of the food storage rooms and made them sit down. Thankfully, it wasn’t the refrigerator or freezer.

  Ryan kept his muscles tensed as he was tied up to Lana. He knew in order to have some extra room to get out of his binds, he needed to be able to move the rope.

  “Don’t go anywhere.” The punk gave a nervous giggle as he closed the door on the couple.

  “You good?” he asked Lana.

  “Just dandy.”

  “Great first date, huh?”

  “I’ve had worse,” she sighed.

  “Wait? What?” He tried to look back at her.

  “You have no idea.”

  “So, you’re saying, after we get out of this, we could try this again?”

  “Maybe I’ll cook dinner for you next time.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. Now, to make sure there is a next time.”

  “He’s on something.” Her voice was all business. “As long as he doesn’t get scared, we should be fine. But who knows, it won’t take much to freak him out.”

  “True.” Ryan wrestled with the ropes, trying to get them loose. “Man, this isn’t going to go over well if the guys at the firehouse find out about this. Let’s hope we can get out of this situation before anyone calls the cops and this situation becomes worse and someone gets hurt.”

  The two of them worked together, trying to free themselves. They froze when shouting came from the other side of the door.

  “Shit.”

  “You can say that again. Can you make out what’s going on?” she asked, as they both leaned towards the door.

  Ryan shook his head, but the door was too thick. The sudden silence worried him more than the shouting. The door burst open, and they both jumped.

  “Either of you know first aide?”

  “I do.” they both said together.

  Ryan sighed, he’d been hoping to keep Lana out of it, but of course she’d want to help. She had to, helping people was in her DNA; as it was in his.

  The greasy, pale-faced teenager eyed them both.

  Ryan nodded his head towards Lana. “She’s a nurse. She knows more than I do.” His only hope now was Lana would be able to get control of the situation and make sure all hostages were stable.

  The unstable gunman quickly untied them from each other, making sure Ryan’s wrists remained tied.

  The gunman yanked them to their feet and escorted them back into the kitchen. Lana saw the old man hunched over in his chair and jerked her arm free, rushing to him. . Carefully, she took his vital signs. When she glanced over at Ryan, he knew it wasn’t good. The old guy needed a hospital, and soon.

  “I need to untie him and start chest compressions.” Lana’s voice was firm.

  “No. He stays tied up.”

  “But I can’t treat him like this.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Lana glared at the punk and turned back to the old man. “Sir, can you hear me? I’m going to try to make you comfortable.”

  While Lana continued to talk to the old man, Ryan focused his attention on the punk.

  “Hey, dude. The guy needs to get to the hospital.”

  “Shut up. I know.” His voice went up an octave.

  “Listen, we can help you, but you have to help us.”

  “I don’t need any fucking help!” he screamed.

  “Listen,” Ryan’s voice was sharper than before. “You do need help. Right now, he could still survive. If he doesn’t get to a hospital, that will all change. Then you are looking at adding homicide to the list of charges against you.”

  The punk narrowed his eyes at Ryan, taking in his large frame. “What are you? A cop?”

  “Nope, and you’re lucky I’m not because if I was, every other cop in St. Louis would be coming after you. I’m only firefighter, it’s your lucky day.” He smirked at the punk, knowing there wasn’t much difference. They all stuck together when things got rough.

  “I just need some money man,” he whined.

  “Don’t we all, but this isn’t the way to get it. Just go. Walk out that door, and let us help this man.”

  “What?” The rich dick piped up, “You can’t just let him go. He took our money. He tied us up!”

  Ryan glared at the douche. “Which is more important to you; a human life or your money? Wait.” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that.”

  He turned back to the punk. “Seriously, the sooner you get out of here, the better. In this neighborhood, it’s going to be noticed that this particular restaurant is closed, when it should be open. These boys,” Ryan pointed to the teenagers who worked in the restaurant. “Their parents are going to be looking for them soon. This can’t go on. You’ve got your money, now leave.”

  “How do I know you won’t call the cops as soon as I leave the room?”

  “You have my word.” Ryan didn’t hesitate, his eyes locked on “The Punk”. He knew this was his only chance to end this before the diner died of heart failure.

  Ryan could tell by the stiffness in Lana’s shoulders that this wasn’t going to end well. She was no longer working on the older gentleman, she had turned her attention to his wife who was sobbing fearfully.

  “We’re running out of time,” Ryan said.

  The rich dick couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Really, is this going to take much longer? I’d like to call my credit card company to put a stop on the cards.”

  “Damn,” Ryan whispered. He didn’t know why the guy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Was he trying to get them all killed?

  The punk raised his gun and aimed it at the rich dick who tried to back away.

  “No! You don’t want to do-“

  The sound of the gun blast echoed through the kitchen, the smell of gunpowder hung in the air.

  When Lana had said this wasn’t her worst first date, she wasn’t lying, however, it soon might take the title.

  She was trying to keep the elderly couple calm, but the husband was fading fast. Under her breath she cursed the kid who was doing this to them and not allowing her to treat him.

  Multi-tasking was second nature to her in the healthcare field. She kept up with her patient’s charts, their current care, and listened to what the doctor’s needed from her—sometimes all at the same time. It was a skill she’d honed over the years working in the hospital. This was no different, except she enjoyed Ryan’s voice a lot more than the doctor’s.

  One of the things that had drawn her to him, was the way he commanded the room. She knew some of that had
to do with his rank and years in the unit. It was nice to be with someone who naturally was strong, not like some of the younger guys who thought they were hot shit. His rich, deep voice calmed her.

  When the kid started talking, she tried to tune him out, but Ryan’s shout brought everything to the forefront. She jumped along with everyone else when the gun went off.

  Whirling around, she quickly inventoried everyone, looking for injuries. Seeing none, she frowned and looked at Ryan, thankful when there was no blood on him, but the horrified look on his face told her she had missed something.

  “What?”

  “Untie me. Now.” His voice was full of command. She didn’t even look to see what had happened to the gunman. She ran over to the knives on the wall and grabbed one, ignoring the pleas of the rich jerk, going directly to Ryan and cutting his ropes.

  The breath whooshed out of her as he hugged her tightly before pulling back and looking her in the eye.

  “You need to get them out of here now,” he motioned to the couple she had been treating. “There’s a bar across the street. Go call 911. Stay with them; I will send everyone else over as soon as they are free.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “The little fucker shot out the gas line. This place could go up any second. I need you get out now.”

  Her stomach clenched, and she nodded. Returning to the elderly couple, she freed the woman first and then finished untying the man. Looking back over at Ryan working on one of the other couples, she said to him, “I need help. I can’t carry him.”

  Another hostage stood up and came over. “I can help. Come on, sir. I’ve got you.”

  Lana led the way out of the restaurant, helping the lady across the street. Half her brain was focused on moving forward, getting as far from the building as possible. Another part worried about Ryan.

  As soon as they were safely in the bar, she made the phone call, knowing Ryan’s own unit would be here soon and there wasn’t much she could do for the old man. She looked out the dirty window towards the restaurant, noticing more people heading over. Her eyes flicked to the second story above the restaurant, and she saw the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle curtains in one of the windows. Her heart stopped. A family lived above the restaurant. They needed to get out, too.