by Witt, L. A.
“I can see why. Seems like this is a good place to raise a family.”
“Minus the drug problem, right?”
“You’ll find that anywhere.”
“True. And Bluewater Bay is safer than LA. Plus my kids like it here. And their stepdad is here.” I paused. “Ex-stepdad. I mean, he’s my ex-husband, but he’s the closest thing they have to a second parent.”
“Really? Their mother . . .?”
“My daughter’s mom has been out of the picture since Des was two. My boys’ mom stays in contact. She Skypes with them at least once a week, and she sends child support religiously, but her job sent her to Chicago and mine sent me here. So she only gets to see them so often. Leo’s the only one who’s physically been there.” I exhaled as I gazed up at the stars. “Even if the Wolf’s Landing gig dries up at some point, I’ll probably find some kind of work here.” I paused, turning toward him. “What about you? You like it here?”
“I could do without the rain.”
“What? It doesn’t even rain that much here. Aside from recently, I mean.”
“Yeah, but I lived in Eastern Washington for forty years. Where I lived was in an even bigger rain shadow than this.”
“Oh yeah. I’ve heard it’s pretty dry over there.”
“Desert in some places, yeah. So it was a switch coming here.” He paused. “But I do like it. I’ve got a good thing going with the garage and with this department. Nice neighbors. Close to the ocean. Can’t really complain, you know?”
“Nope, definitely not.” I put a hand on his thigh. “The scenery’s pretty amazing too.”
“I agree.”
We locked eyes as much as the darkness would allow, then gazed upward again.
I released a breath. “Man, you’re right. It really is gorgeous here.”
“It is.” He slid closer to me. “But that’s not what I brought you up here to see.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Well . . . sort of.” He kissed the side of my neck. “But let’s just say it’s not the entire picture.” His fingers trailed along my zipper, teasing my cock to life right through my clothes. “I want you to lie back, stare at the stars, and enjoy.”
“Enjoy—”
He pressed a kiss to my lips. Another beneath my ear before he whispered, “Just keep watching the stars.”
I gulped as he went to his knees beside my chair. Watching the stars became a tall order as he drew my zipper down. Even more when he started slowly, gently stroking my now very hard cock—how was I supposed to look at anything when my eyes kept trying to close or roll back?
The stars above me blurred as his lips slid over my cock. I exhaled into the night, overwhelmed already. And he was just getting started. Christ.
I looked down, and though I couldn’t see him very well, this view beat the one in the sky, hands down. Watching his shadow bobbing over my cock, watching the faint pale outline of my own fingers running through his hair . . . Oh yeah, this was hot. Almost hot enough for me to tell him to switch the lights back on, but he couldn’t do that without stopping what he was doing now, so fuck it.
“Oh wow,” I whispered. “That’s . . .”
Exactly what I needed tonight. Eyes squeezed shut, I tilted my head back against the chair and groaned, wondering how long I could hold back and enjoy this before my orgasm became unstoppable.
“Just keep watching the stars.”
I opened my eyes. God, this was beautiful. Everything had disappeared except the stars in the sky and the ones he was making me see. Combing my fingers through his hair, I stared upward and let him carry me away. Whoa. Fucking . . . whoa. It wasn’t my first blowjob by a long shot, but it was my first one like this—out in the open, under a gorgeous sky, with a man who was equal parts patient and enthusiastic working some serious oral magic on my dick.
Oh yeah, keep . . . Oh my God, Aaron, don’t stop . . .
I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, never mind focus them, so I stopped trying. I squeezed them shut. Gripped his hair between shaky fingers. The chair under me creaked. Scraped on the ground when one of us moved. The world quietly went on around us, oblivious to me coming apart at the seams, and somehow that made everything a million times hotter, and—
All the air rushed out of my lungs. The chair squeaked even louder as my back arched.
And then my eyes flew open, and with nothing but stars and black sky in front of me, I lost it.
I sank back onto the lounge chair I’d practically levitated off, and Aaron sat up.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
He laughed softly.
I searched for his features in the darkness. “This was what you brought me up here for?”
Aaron nodded. “What can I say?” He brushed his lips across mine. “You seemed like a guy who’d never had an orgasm under the stars before.”
Chapter 14
Aaron
With Shane satisfied, we sat back and gazed at the stars for a while. Even though I hadn’t come yet, damn if I was anything but satisfied myself. I could take care of myself in the shower later if it came down to it. The fact that he was so relaxed and still grinning—that was more than enough for now.
“For the record,” he said after a while, “getting off under the stars was pretty damn amazing.”
I slid my hand into his. “I thought you’d enjoy that.”
“Seems like something you’ve done before.”
“Oh, I’ve been known to enjoy a clear night in ways the local law enforcement would frown on.”
A laugh burst out of him. “When you put it like that, it sounds even hotter.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” I turned to him, searching for his outline in the low light. “Maybe one of these days, we should take off to someplace really remote. Where you can see even more stars than this.”
He faced me, and even in the darkness, I could see his grin. “I always see stars with you.”
“Mission accomplished, right?”
We both chuckled and looked up again.
After a while, Shane asked, “So do you do anything boring or mundane?”
I laughed. “Well, I do have to pay my bills. And the litter boxes don’t change themselves.”
“Good.” He gave a sharp nod. “I was starting to think everything you did was crazy and exciting.”
“Nope. Afraid not. I’ve even been known to clean my house and wash dishes.”
“No, no, stop!” He dramatically put a hand on his heart. “You’re killing my illusion.”
“I also pay my taxes, and I’ve turned out for jury duty before.” In a stage whisper, I added, “Twice.”
“What?” Shane clicked his tongue. “Yeah. See? Illusion shattered now.”
“If it’s any consolation, I sometimes drink milk from the carton.”
“That doesn’t count. You live alone.”
“Fair enough.” I paused. “But I do give blowjobs under the stars and have jumped out of planes. So.”
“Into forest fires.” He sighed dramatically. “Okay, I guess that makes up for being a responsible taxpayer and all that shit.”
“Thank God for that. Didn’t want to lose my reputation as a reckless idiot.”
“Hey now.” He gave a soft laugh and put his hand on my forearm. “Nobody said anything about idiot. You’ve just . . .” He sighed for real this time. “You’ve done so much amazing and interesting stuff. I envy that.”
“I . . . wouldn’t say everything I’ve done qualifies as amazing.”
He turned to me in the darkness. “Such as?”
“Well.” I shifted uncomfortably on the lounge chair. “Remember when I told you how I could’ve gotten hooked on painkillers after my surgery?”
He nodded.
I swallowed, shame knotting behind my ribs. “I probably would’ve if I hadn’t moved out here and gotten this volunteer gig.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I was so messed up after I had to quit the
firehouse, and I had some left. Taking them felt better than being miserable over losing the only career I’d ever known.” I blew out a long breath. “When my buddy offered to sell me his garage, it was probably the best unintentional intervention that could’ve happened. I came to check the place out and drove by the firehouse on my way. Realized I could probably swing a volunteer gig.”
“But you couldn’t do that while you were taking the painkillers.”
“Exactly. And I could also do the job once a week or so without needing the painkillers. So I flushed those fuckers and moved here. Never looked back.”
“Wow.”
“So yeah.” I cleared my throat. “The stuff that sounds great because it isn’t everyday and boring can be a double-edged sword.”
“So can the everyday, boring shit,” he muttered. “I mean, I’m glad I never got into trouble or anything, but sometimes I regret growing up so fast. I never wanted to get involved in anything that would actually hurt anybody, but . . . I never did anything crazy. I didn’t even drink until I was twenty-one.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I was too focused on school. And too broke most of the time.” He gave a quiet, bitter laugh. “I mean, it’s not like I was sitting in church whenever I wasn’t in a classroom. I did manage to knock up two women before I was thirty.”
“Seems like that worked out for you, though.”
Shane smiled. “Yeah. It did.” The smile faded as he stared up at the sky. “Sometimes I kind of wish I’d waited a few more years, though. Growing up overnight was a bit of a shocker, and part of me still regrets missing whatever should have come between being a stupid kid and a responsible adult.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Even before my daughter came along, I threw myself into school because I wanted to make sure my future was set. Told myself the whole time I could party and travel and all that shit after I graduated and had a decent paycheck.” He released a long, heavy sigh. “But then I became a dad. And, I mean, don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret my kids, and I’m happy with how my life turned out. I like my job. I love my family.” He turned toward me. “Sometimes it’s just hard to think about all the things I could’ve done if I’d waited a few more years, you know?”
“I can imagine.”
“Sometimes . . .” He shifted his gaze back toward the sky. “I mean, this is exactly why I love what we’re doing. I missed out, and I want to make up for some lost time.”
“Understandable.”
I paused. Then, testing the water, I said, “You know, there’s a three-day weekend coming up.”
Shane scowled. “Well, for most people.”
“Think you could get it off?”
“Maybe.” He looked at me. “Why?”
“Maybe we could take off somewhere. Go do something really crazy.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Something crazy? Like . . .?”
“Like, exactly what we agreed to do—anything you wish you did in your twenties.” I pushed myself up on my elbow and twisted toward him. “Let’s go hit up a club. Get shitfaced and dance like idiots.” With a wink, I added, “Maybe find a guy or a couple and take them back to a hotel room with us.”
Shane gulped. “Seriously?”
“Why not? You’ve said several times you wanted to try a threesome.”
“Well . . . I mean . . . because . . .” His eyes lost focus. “Shit, I don’t even know why not.” Sighing, he shook his head. “Except my kids.”
“Damn.” I tried. But damn.
He stared up at the dark sky and didn’t say anything for a minute or so. Then, quietly, “My ex-husband’s weekend with the kids is coming up. I could probably switch with him for the three-day.”
My pulse sped up. “Really?”
He faced me. “I’m on board if you are.”
“You better believe I am.” I slid my hand over his forearm. “Let’s get out of town. Go to Seattle, where we don’t know anybody. Drink ourselves stupid and see where the nights take us.”
The darkness did almost nothing to temper the sudden gleam in his eyes. “I am so in.”
“Good.” I grinned. “Let me know when you’ve got the time off, and we’ll make it happen.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” He sat up and turned toward me. When I mirrored him, he leaned across and slid a hand around the back of my neck. “Who knew a responsible, law-abiding, tax-paying firefighter would be my guide into the world of being reckless?”
I laughed, letting my lips graze his. “Well, someone’s gotta do it.”
“Mm-hmm. You’re the man for the job, are you?”
“You better believe it.”
He kissed me full-on, hands sliding up into my hair. Oh God, yes. Shane’s kiss was almost as addictive as he was.
“You know,” he murmured between kisses, “I still haven’t returned the favor from earlier.”
I shivered, cock hardening quickly. “Hmm, no, you haven’t—”
The alarm blared, startling us apart.
I rolled my eyes as I jumped to my feet. “Go figure.” I adjusted the front of my pants. “Fuck. All right, I gotta run.”
“Okay. Text me tomorrow.” He followed me to the stairwell and down to the ground floor, and there was no time for even a good-bye kiss. Such was life in a firehouse.
I grabbed my gear and hoisted myself up into the engine beside Carrie. As we pulled out of the garage, lights flashing and sirens screaming, I stole one last glance at Shane. He met my gaze for a quick second before the engine turned and he was out of sight.
“What’ve we got?” Carrie asked.
“Three-vehicle collision,” Ron said from the passenger seat. “Police are on-scene and ambulance is on the way. Dispatch is getting clarification if there’s two or three people trapped in one vehicle.”
Carrie and I exchanged glances.
As the engine screamed toward the highway, I stared out the window. We had a few minutes till we reached the scene, and I trusted myself to shift into professional mode as soon as it came into view. In the meantime, I indulged in a moment—only a moment—to think about the three-day weekend we had coming up.
Shane thought he’d make an ass of himself on the dance floor. I didn’t care if he did. I just wanted to see him cut loose and have a good time.
It was anyone’s guess if we’d find a third person—or another couple—to take back to our room. If we did, though, the thought of watching Shane with another man was . . . holy shit. I shivered. God, yes, if this worked out, it was going to be smoking hot.
And if it didn’t, well, I’d still have Shane. Whether we brought anyone back with us or not, there would be some insanely amazing sex happening in that room. Whatever happened, whoever we recruited, I was going to give Shane the weekend of his life.
You want a couple of carefree nights to let down your hair and be reckless and wild?
I’m your man, Shane. I’m your man.
Up ahead, flashing blue lights pulled my attention to our destination, and all thoughts of Shane switched off. There’d be time for that later.
For now, I had work to do.
* * *
My next shift at the firehouse was a typical one. We’d spent the first part of our shift doing the usual tasks—cleaning, counting, and calibrating. Now Carrie and Hank were playing on the Xbox, and Ron was kicked back with a newspaper. A few voices made it into the lounge from the garage, so some of the guys must’ve been shooting the shit out there. Andy had gone up to the roof a few minutes ago, probably to smoke a cigarette and FaceTime with his girlfriend.
And, as usual, I was texting with Shane.
It was a weird thing, being bored in a firehouse. On one hand, we itched for the alarm to go off because then we could do our job. We’d have something to do. On the other, any time that bell rang, someone needed help and there was always the chance someone was seriously hurt and quite possibly going to die. None of us wanted anyone’s house to burn down or fo
r someone to get hurt.
That was why the storm had been a blessing in its own way. In the aftermath, we didn’t have to worry about getting bored, but not a lot of people got hurt. Instead of putting out fires and pulling people from wreckages, we’d spent the time helping the utility companies dislodge trees and branches. It had been a nice switch—no boredom and no injuries.
And, hey, that storm had blown me right into Shane’s path, so there would be no complaints from me. Tonight, the weather was calm. Wet as fuck, which meant the probability of a car wreck went up, but not windy enough to topple any more trees. Not that it mattered—the alarm would inevitably go off, and it would be Andy’s fault. New guy or not, he knew better, and yet he’d commented earlier that it was a quiet night. The Q-word had been uttered. Now it was only a matter of time.
For the moment, I just continued my conversation with Shane. He’d gotten home half an hour ago, so his messages were more frequent than the sporadic ones he’d send throughout the day. He’d regaled me about the latest delays and debacles with getting the soundstage back online. The roof had been fixed, but previously undetected water damage had caused mildew to build up. Fortunately, the smell had attracted attention before anyone had fired up some of the electrical equipment—turned out some wiring had been damaged, either by the tree or the rebuild, and coupled with the water pooling inside the wall, that could’ve been a disaster.
Yeah, tell them to get that shit fixed, I said. I don’t mind visiting you at work, but not on the engine, K?
LOL I’ll pass the message along. A moment later, he added, At least they fixed the roof before the rain picked up again.
I glanced at the window, which was currently being pelted by huge drops. The peninsula didn’t usually get this much rain thanks to the rain shadow, but even that hadn’t been enough to keep us from getting dumped on repeatedly over the past few weeks. Today had been especially ugly. If we were getting this much, Seattle must’ve been knee-deep in water by now.