Five Alarm Christmas: A Firefighter Reverse Harem Romance

by Cassie Cole

  I was probing him, trying to see what he thought about our quick gym workout. “I’d like that. Hey—look at this.”

  I crouched down with him at the corner of the shed, which was aligned with the corner of the owner’s yard by the fence. One section of the muddy ground was blacker than the rest, with a powdery residue all firefighters knew. Burned ink, like from a newspaper.

  “Smell that?” Angel said.

  “Gasoline,” I said. “An accelerant was used here.”

  Angel rose and got a distant look in his eyes. “Guess the owner was right: someone caused this intentionally.”

  “Shit.”

  We walked around the shed toward the others gathered on the back deck. I looked at the neighboring houses. Curtains moved on the adjacent house as someone disappeared from sight. Someone watching the show.

  Many, if not most, arson cases were self-inflicted. Insurance fraud was rampant in America, especially with a secondary building like a shed. The owner would get it covered by insurance, burn it down or destroy it during a storm, then get the insurance to pay for a new one. Or take a cash payout, if the insurance offered it.

  Angel took Christian aside and whispered in his ear. Christian’s face remained blank but he asked the owner, “What was stored in the shed? Lawnmower, maybe?”

  “Not with my arthritis,” the old man said. “I pay a service. Why?”

  “Would there be any other items in your shed that use gasoline? Like a generator?”

  The owner seemed to understand where the line of questioning was going. “I told you it was my neighbor! The new ones, there!” He pointed to the house where the curtains had moved. “He’s been complaining about my dog barking.”

  “So he decided to take it out on your shed?” Sparks asked, not bothering to hide the disbelief from his voice. “That’s the first thing I do when I get annoyed by a barking dog: go looking for a shed to burn.”

  But the old man was gesturing wildly at the smoking remains in his yard. “The dog slept in the shed. That was his home!”

  “Oh,” Sparks said.

  “Did your neighbor ever threaten you?” Christian asked.

  “Well, no. Not explicitly. But I’m telling you, this was retribution!”

  I shook my head and turned away. It disgusted me that someone could do something so reckless. Even putting aside the theory that this was done to get a dog to stop barking—something that made me want to throw up, as a dog-lover—setting a shed on fire was how larger fires happened. The wind picks up, leaves catch fire and scatter, and suddenly and entire block was engulfed in flames.

  And bottom line: arson was almost always self-inflicted. The most logical explanation was that this man, or his wife, caused the fire.

  “I swear!” the man insisted. “It was my neighbor!”

  Yeah right, I thought, walking away before my anger got the better of me.

  18

  Christian

  Both of us were angry on the way back to the station.

  “Textbook insurance fraud,” Angel said. His fingers gripped the wheel so tight the knuckles were white. “Fucking assholes.”

  “Yep,” I said.

  “Hope the fire inspector has enough evidence to charge them. Nail their ass to the wall. Can you imagine if that poplar went up?”

  He was right. I was shocked an overhanging poplar branch hadn’t caught fire. With the way the wind was blowing, the leaves would have scattered in all directions and caught the whole damn block on fire. We were lucky we got there in time.

  “Lucky,” was all I said.

  Angel gritted his teeth, but then turned off the engine radio. “I slept with Amy too.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “This morning. In the gym. I was spotting her, and then…” He shrugged while keeping his eyes focused on the road. “It just sort of happened.”

  I didn’t feel any jealousy. Not among a close unit mate like Angel. If anything, I was excited that he and Amy had done it. That made two of us.

  And it meant Amy might be more inclined to try other things…

  “We have to be careful,” I said. “We want to make sure we don’t make it weird in our unit.”

  “Hey, no weird feelings here, Christian.”

  “No, yeah, I mean, I know,” I said. “I meant regarding Amy.”

  “Oh. Yeah, right,” he agreed. “Sparks is going to lose his shit if he finds out.”

  “Then it can be our secret until then,” I said. “Or until he finally comes around.”

  “Yeah.” Angel got a goofy grin on his face. “I like her. Amy, I mean.”

  I laughed. “I know who you’re referring to.” I felt the same way. I liked Amy.

  Do I more than just like her?

  The question echoed in my head until we got back to the station.

  We got three more calls that day. One was canceled halfway there, but then we got another call for a fire in a park. Some idiots mis-using their grill and accidentally setting their can of lighter fluid on fire. They were so afraid it would explode that they called 911. We patiently explained to them that it wouldn’t really explode, and then spent half an hour lecturing them on proper fire safety.

  We had just gotten back to the station when the big call came in.

  We raced toward downtown Miami on the shoulder of the interstate, siren and horn blaring.

  “It must be big if they’re calling us all the way from Hialeah,” Angel said.

  “Yep.” I switched to the unit channel and said, “Sparks, Amy. We’ve got a big one. Be ready for anything.”

  We saw the fire a mile away, a black streak marring the picturesque Miami skyline. It was the Callaway Building, a 40 story tall skyrise that was only a few years old. A dozen fire engines were already on the scene, ladders extended like fingers clawing at the burning sky.

  “Hydrants are occupied,” Angel cursed, circling toward the back side of the building. Other engines were already here too. “Where is one, come on—there.”

  He didn’t drive right up to the open hydrant—instead he positioned the engine as close to the Callaway Building as possible while still being close enough to connect a hose to the hydrant.

  “Station 47 on site,” I said on the city-wide channel. “Where are we needed?”

  “Ladder spraying on the 11th and 12th floors,” came the voice of someone in charge. “Do what you can. We’ve got six men inside, but we’re close to pulling them out.”

  “Roger.” I rushed out and hopped on the ladder, running to the end until I was in the cherry picker basket. I grabbed the controls and raised it into the sky, though from my vantage it seemed like the world was slowly dropping out beneath me.

  I tilted my head up.

  The 40 story building was completely obscured with smoke, giving us a view of only the first eight or nine floors. I used the mechanical controls to extend the ladder as high as I could without reaching the smoke deck.

  “Hose ready to be wetted,” Amy said.

  Damn, that was fast. “Do it!”

  There was a barely perceptible thump as water pressure filled the engine and then the hoses. We were ready for business.

  “This is Station 47, hitting the 11th floor.”

  I grabbed hold of the hose gun and added my spray to the chaos.

  There wasn’t much for us to do at this point; it was damage control more than any real attempt at saving most of the building. It was like aiming a dozen squirt guns at… Well, at a building fire. We weren’t enough to stop it.

  Still, we had to do what we could.

  It took two hours before the fire eventually went out. By then it had spread to four more floors, leaving a shell of a building with intact offices above and below.

  We stood around for another hour waiting for orders. Then the engineers deemed the building structurally sound enough for teams to go inside.

  We waited our turn impatiently. None of us liked feeling useless, and that’s exactly what we were. Another hour
went by before the Captain on site relieved half the engines, including ours.

  We drove home in silence, tired and disappointed.

  19

  Amy

  Our nerves were frayed by the time we got back to the station. We stumbled out of the fire engine like zombies, barely taking the time to hang up our turnout gear in the garage.

  I had to choose between three competing urges: hunger, cleanliness, and exhaustion. I decided to take a shower first, letting the scalding water erase the events of the day. When I was done I had to clean the bar of soap, which was almost as black as the rubble back at the Callaway Building.

  Nobody wanted to make dinner, so Christian pulled out the Tupperware containers of leftovers and we split those. Sparks only ate half his plate before mumbling something about sleep and wandering into his room. Even though I was famished I had to force myself to take each forkful of food rather than lay my head down and sleep on the table.

  I stood up with the intention of cleaning up the kitchen, but couldn’t muster the energy. Instead, I went to the couch and fell into the plush cushions.

  My eyes were closed as Christian and Angel joined me, one on either side. Their sighs echoed my own feeling.

  “Always hurts to see it take a building,” Christian said.

  I opened one eye. “Nobody died.”

  “I know. But it still hurts. Like losing ground in a war.”

  “Fire isn’t a logical enemy. It has no goals or motives. It just consumes.”

  “I always likened it to a rabid dog,” Angel added. His voice was stronger than ours, but still thick with sleepiness. “When under your control, fire is a blessing. It cooks food and provides warmth. Hell, fire is the reason humans are where they are today. But when we lose control of it… It has to be put down.”

  The talk of dogs reminded me of the shed fire today. The poor dog had been so scared across the street, though like all Labrador Retrievers it bounced back quickly.

  I felt sad like Christian. Fighting fires did feel like war sometimes. One we were always losing. Every lost structure or life was like retreating just a little bit.

  He sighed again, and I reached out without thinking and took his hand, squeezing it to give him encouragement. He smiled without opening his eyes and squeezed it back.

  Suddenly I was aware of how I was wedged between them on the couch. They’d given me a respectable amount of space, but after some manspreading their legs touched each of mine. It was nice. Comforting.

  It’s more than just nice.

  Usually I’d get drunk with my unit mates after a day like today, but I wasn’t in the mood tonight. Sometimes I went for a jog to help my body loosen up, but I wasn’t feeling that either.

  How else can we blow off some steam?

  I knew the answer. But was it a good idea? Neither guy knew I’d slept with the other. And even if they did…

  My hand was still on Christian’s, his skin burning where it touched mine.

  “So…” Angel said with a long stretch. But instead of announcing that he was going to bed he said, “Which of us is the better lover?”

  Christian sputtered. “Dude!”

  I looked back and forth between them. “You two told each other?”

  To Angel’s credit he looked embarrassed. “I mean. Yeah. Not like that. We didn’t gossip or go into detail…”

  “Just informing the other of what happened,” Christian said. “Information only. Honest.”

  They didn’t seem douchy about it, the way I imagined some guys bragging about their sexual conquests. I couldn’t picture either of them detailing everything they’d done with me and high-fiving.

  I trusted them. They were telling the truth.

  “Alright, I believe you,” I said.

  “Well…” Angel elbowed me. “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “That,” I said, “is the kind of question best discussed after a few beers.”

  Christian hopped to his feet, reinvigorated suddenly. “Let’s get started, then.”

  I held my hands up. “Woah. I’m already too close to passing out. Half a beer and I’ll be snoring away on the couch.”

  “Aww.” Christian sat back down.

  I looked back and forth between them. Studying their faces. Trying to think of something witty. Why wouldn’t my brain ever work when I was around guys I liked?

  Do I like them? I thought. The answer was immediately obvious.

  “You’re both good lovers,” I said. “At least, from what I’ve seen so far.”

  “That’s not an answer,” Angel said.

  I felt naughty as I got my second wind. Maybe I wasn’t ready for bed just yet.

  Or at least, not my own bed.

  “That’s the best answer I can give,” I said carefully. “Based on what little information I have gathered so far.”

  How would they take that? They looked at each other, thinking it over. The anticipation of their response to my hidden question was killing me!

  “Maybe you need more data,” Christian finally said, running a hand up my thigh.

  “Maybe I do.”

  His hand squeezed my thigh, pulling my legs apart. He leaned in to my hair, his forehead leaning against me as he took a deep breath. Angel cupped my chin and turned me to face him, his thumb caressing along my jaw.

  “As much fun as it is being out here,” Christian whispered, “let’s get some privacy tonight.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  He took me by the hand and led me into his bedroom. Angel followed and closed the door softly behind us. The room was spartan: a single dresser with two picture frames on top, and the double bed adorned with the same sheets as all the other rooms. Yet even though it was a copy of my room, I felt the lingering naughtiness of being in here instead of my own.

  This was where something was going to happen.

  Angel grabbed me and kissed me hard, taking me with a possessiveness that instantly made me wet. He held my face close to his with both of his hands, the tips of his fingers kneading into my hair. His lips tasted like the mint ice cream he’d had in lieu of dinner.

  Christian lingered behind me, hands on my hips. Finally he whirled me around, taking me away from Angel and to his own waiting lips, warm and soft and full. He kissed me even harder than Angel, and parted my lips with his tongue so it could swirl with mine, making me moan with the need of him. Behind, Angel was pulling my pants down around my ankles, then my panties. He kissed my bare cheeks, first the left and then the right, while running his fingers all over my skin. Then he was kissing down along my hamstring and back up my inner thigh, and I widened my stance to give him more access to the area I really wanted him to kiss. All the while Christian’s tongue massaged mine.

  Two men at the same time.

  I’d fantasized about it. What girl hadn’t? But I’d never thought it was something that could actually happen. Real life wasn’t a porno. It was the kind of scenario that never actually presented itself. Women were too meek, or self-conscious to initiate such a thing. Men were usually too possessive, or jealous.

  Neither of them seemed to be, though.

  Christian pulled my shirt over my head, revealing my breasts since I hadn’t bothered to put a bra on after my shower. He lowered his lips to my neck then the tops of my breasts, eventually taking one of my nipples in his mouth and gently sucking.

  I sighed as Angel’s tongue worked its way up my thigh. He teased me, drawing near without touching directly, and I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he grabbed my ass cheeks and began licking up… Then just before giving me a rimjob he plunged his tongue deep into my pussy with enough surprise that I yelped out loud.

  “Sorry,” I sighed as I melted beneath their dual kissing.

  “For what?” Christian asked.

  “For making noise. I don’t want to wake Sparky.”

  Angel rumbled with laughter, sending a scintillating vibration up into my lady parts. Christian said, “He’s a dee
p sleeper. The station alarm could go off and he’d barely stir.”

  As if that were the permission I needed, I let out a louder moan as he began sucking on my other nipple, taking it between his lips and giving just enough pressure to make me squirm. But Angel held me firmly in place from below while tonguing me.

  I hastily felt around the front of Christian’s pants until I felt his bulge, then began rubbing him through the fabric. He pulled back and then unzipped his pants, exposing himself for my waiting fingers. I stroked his hard cock rapidly while they kissed and licked and worshiped me from both ends.

  Finally Christian came up to kiss my lips, then grabbed me by the waist and tossed me on the bed. I bounced on the mattress while they loomed over me, two statuesque men who were about to take me however they pleased.

  A buff girl like me wasn’t used to being manhandled.

  I liked it.

  Christian crawled onto the bed and lowered his head to eat me out, taking over where Angel had left off. Angel came around the side of the bed and took off his own clothes, revealing a cock every bit as hard as Christian’s. I turned my head sideways for him and he pushed forward, cock sliding into my mouth. I ran my fingers over his perfectly flat belly, feeling ridge after ridge of his ab muscles as he fucked my mouth, and soon he was grabbing my hair and using it to push my lips farther and farther down on his cock. The deeper his manhood went in my mouth the louder he moaned, which turned me on just as much as Christian’s tongue eating me while his thumb pressed into my clit.

  It was just like I’d dreamed. Better than I’d dreamed. Pleasuring and being pleasured. Three sets of bodies focused solely on each other.

  Christian gave my pussy one final rub and then climbed on top of me, his huge arms planting on either side. I moaned around Angel’s meat as Christian slid inside of me, filling me completely with one long stroke. He didn’t waste any time as he pulled back and slid forward again, his blond head hunched over my chest as he lowered his lips to my nipple again, using one meaty hand to squeeze the breast together so he could feast on it. The stimulation in between my legs and in my nipple was like a double prong of electricity.