An Ignited Passion

by Sandrine Gasq-Dion

  “Um, hey, I’m Wyatt Quinton? I’m supposed to start my community service here today?”

  The guy nodded and yawned, opening the door. He wandered off scratching himself and mumbling under his breath, leaving Wyatt to find his own way. Wyatt walked around the quiet fire station and took it all in. He’d always wanted to be a fireman - his first toy had been a fire truck.

  “Kind of quiet.” “Yeah, the guys are out on a call. I’m Austin Jacobson, better known as probie.”

  “Probie?” Wyatt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. “Yup, the new guy. I’m still on probation until I can prove myself.” Austin ran a hand through his spiked hair. “So I welcome you, Wyatt Quinton. Thanks to you, they might lay off me for a while.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Wyatt walked around the row of lockers looking at all the helmets and boots. Equipment was spread out along all the walls of the firehouse which, true to form, were painted red. “So, are they coming back soon?”

  “There’s a big fire over on the pier. Some warehouse went up in flames, so it could be a while before they come back. I just came on shift myself. I’m on three and off three.”

  “Three hours?”

  Austin laughed loud. “Oh hell no, three days.” “Oh.” Wyatt felt his cheeks redden. “So is there anything I should start doing while I wait?”

  Austin looked around. “Not sure. Chief put Dalton in charge of you.” Austin shivered. “Dude, I feel for you.”

  “What do you mean?” Before his question could be answered, Wyatt heard the garage door opening and a very loud truck was backing up into the far side of the garage. Whoever was driving it eased the big rig in like it was a Prius. A group of men jumped out of the back and then Wyatt’s heart stopped in his chest. A blond guy jumped out of the driver’s seat and barked orders at some of the other guys.

  Their eyes met when he turned. A look passed between them and Wyatt felt the hairs on his arms and back of his neck stand up. Jesus, but he was fucking drop dead gorgeous! Not an inch less than six foot three and rock hard muscle from head to toe. Blond and beautiful strode over with a relaxed confidence that Wyatt would kill for and he felt his hands begin to sweat. When he opened his mouth, nothing would come out. Wyatt saw the smirk on the blond guy’s face. Those smoldering brown bedroom eyes were laughing at him.

  “You Quinton?”

  Wyatt nodded and put his hand out. “Um, yeah, I mean yes. Wyatt Quinton. I was ordered...” “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m Preston Dalton. I’m in charge of you for however long the judge sees fit, so drop your shit and clean the truck.” With another smirk, Preston jerked his thumb towards the rig they had just gotten out of. “It needs to be washed then waxed.”

  “Huh?” Wyatt looked mouth agape at the monster fire truck covered with mud.

  “Haven’t you ever washed a car? There’s a hose on the side of the building and all the stuff to wash her is in that first cabinet,” Preston pointed towards the row of cabinets by the end of the truck. He took his jacket off and threw it on the bench in front of a row of lockers.

  Preston watched as Wyatt just stood there, mouth open. Jesus, the shit he could do to that mouth. Hell, he thought, the things he could put in it.

  “Yo! Quinton.” “Yeah, I’m on it.” Wyatt made his way towards the truck mumbling under his breath.

  “What’s that?” Preston smiled; he could hear Wyatt calling him a jackass among other things. Werewolf hearing did have its perks.

  “Nothing, boss. I’ll get right on it.” Two hours later, after Wyatt had gotten most of the mud off the monster truck, the alarms went off in the firehouse. Men came down the pole and Wyatt watched in awe as they all slid down, one after another. Preston, or “Attila the Hun” as probie told Wyatt he was called, was the first one down and running right towards him.

  “I’m not done!” Wyatt looked at the truck again then back at Preston. “Don’t have time,” Preston pushed Wyatt out of the way and grabbed his helmet. “Move it guys!” Preston jumped in the cab and smiled down at Wyatt. “Better hope we don’t run through mud again.” Preston looked at Wyatt’s face; Jesus he wanted him even more than before.

  “You can start on dinner for the guys. Everything you need is in the kitchen.”

  “Wait!” Wyatt had to yell over the engines loud roar. “What do I make?” “Figure it out, service boy,” Preston winked and rolled out.

  Wyatt felt his anger rising. “Service boy? Oh, hell no.” Wyatt gritted his teeth and looked for the kitchen. He found Austin at the long table reading a book. “I was told I had to make dinner, so what do I make?”

  “I don’t know, what do you know how to make?” Austin sat back and watched Wyatt rummaging through the cabinets and three refrigerators.

  “I can make awesome lasagna, would that work?” Wyatt found all the pans and looked through the pantries. He found sauce, cheese, meat, noodles and various spices. “Good, everything I need is here. How many pans should I make?”

  “With these guys?” Austin arched a brow. “How many pans do we have?” Wyatt sighed. “I get it.” Four hours later the guys were back from their fire and Wyatt was pulling six pans of lasagna out of four ovens. A group of freshly showered men were filing into the kitchen, mouths watering.

  Wyatt grabbed the pans and put three on one side of the table and three on the other. Within ten minutes all six pans were empty and Wyatt felt lucky to have gotten one plate. All in all, thirteen men sat around the table. What were the odds that he’d be seated with Preston right across from him? Wyatt couldn’t stop looking at him. When their eyes met, Wyatt looked away from the intense stare and subsequent sneer directed at him from Preston.

  Wyatt got to know most of the men in the short time they were all sitting around the table. Most of them were pretty nice and asked why he was there. Wyatt decided if he was going to be spending a lot of time with these guys, he may as well come clean.

  “Dude, are you fucking crazy?”

  Sean Knight, the red-haired fireman everyone called ‘Big Red’ laughed at him and Wyatt blushed.

  “I know it was stupid. Trust me. I’m paying for it now.” “And you’ll keep on paying, service boy.” Preston stood up and looked at the table of men. “Let’s get some rest guys, fires don’t wait on anyone.” Preston looked at the mess on the table and smiled at Wyatt. “K.P. duty, Quinton, clean this shit up.”

  “What?” Wyatt looked at Preston incredulously. “You can’t be serious!” “Hey, Preston - Chaz, Cole and I can help the guy out,” Sean said. “No.” Preston looked right into Wyatt’s eyes and leaned into his face. “Come see me when you’re done and I’ll show you where you’re sleeping tonight.”

  Two hours later, after sweating profusely and cursing like a trucker; Wyatt had finished all the dinner dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. He set up all four coffeemakers, making sure they were filled to the brim. He was going to have to go shopping. The coffee they had was like brown mud and in Seattle you had way more options than this sludge.

  Wyatt made sure all the lights were off and walked through the fire station looking for Preston. He found him in the TV room asleep in one of the chairs. Preston had a tribal tattoo on his right bicep that Wyatt didn’t recognize. Even though he was Native American, he hadn’t really bothered to look into his heritage a fact his father had brought up more than once.

  A smooth, tan chest lay barren for him to admire and Wyatt’s eyes took in the impressive size of Preston Dalton. His blond hair was hanging slightly in his eyes; his breathing was slow and even. Wyatt put him in his early twenties at the most. He cleared his throat and Preston didn’t even flinch. He tried again, a little louder this time, and was rewarded when Preston cracked open his sleep-filled eyes.

  “Um, I’m done.” Wyatt looked at Preston’s well defined abdominal muscles and swallowed hard. A soft patch of blond hair started right below his navel and disappeared under his sweat pants. Wyatt watched as Preston stood up, twisted and stretched his large frame from
side to side. Wyatt started at the sight of a big black wolf on Preston’s right shoulder blade.

  “Nice ink.” Preston turned and looked at Wyatt. “Let’s get you to your bed, service boy. Another long day awaits you.” Preston threw his shirt over his right shoulder, hiding the black wolf with green eyes. He made his way up the stairs and pointed to a door.

  “That’s the shower and right down the hall is your room. It’s not much but at least you don’t have to sleep with a bunch of guys who snore.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” Preston turned to look at Wyatt and felt his body responding. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; God he wanted to grab Wyatt and devour him.

  “What?” “What’s your deal? I know I fucked up and I’m here to fix that, so why do you feel the need to make it even harder on me?” Wyatt looked into Preston’s eyes and felt his skin break out in a fine sheen of sweat. Jesus, but the man was beautiful, everything about him called to Wyatt.

  Ignoring his head, Preston’s dick led him closer to Wyatt and he leaned over him, looking deep into his eyes.

  “You don’t think before you act, Quinton. You could have a record for what you did. Breaking and entering is a serious crime. You took something that didn’t belong to you and even though you gave it back you caused a man a great deal of pain. Did you know that Dean Smith’s father was at that game with him? His dad caught the ball for his son and it’s the one thing he treasures, a last gift from his dying father. Think about that tonight.”

  Preston made his way down the hall to his room and turned to take one last look at Wyatt.

  “You are going to have to think about what’s more important: A guy who will drag you into doing something you know is wrong or standing up for yourself for what’s right. I may seem like an asshole, but life isn’t easy.”

  Wyatt leaned up against the wall and sighed as Preston’s door shut. “God, I’m an asshole.” Wyatt dragged his tired body into the room and shut the door. A twin bed sat against the wall and a small bookshelf held several titles Wyatt had never read. There was a small dresser on the other side and the walls were bare. He looked around and found his bag had been put in the corner. Too tired to take a shower, he fell on the bed and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day. It had to be.

  Chapter Three

  The next day and the three weeks after that had been a nightmare. Wyatt was cleaning toilets with a toothbrush,

  mopping floors, washing and waxing the trucks, making dinner for all the guys and then cleaning up after them. He hadn’t had a chance to call anyone or do anything else but work, work and work. His body was protesting just getting out of bed in the mornings. He had no idea how these guys got up at all hours of the night and day, running to put out fires. He kept a safe distance from Preston, not that it mattered much; any time he saw Preston his heart rate increased and sweat covered his palms.

  Wyatt did his chores and kept his contact with Preston to a minimum, hanging out with Sean or Austin instead. The beginning of the fourth week, Wyatt had just finished waxing the truck he called ‘hell bitch.’ She shone like the sun and Wyatt smiled and made his way into the kitchen. He flopped down on a chair and looked at Preston reading the

  newspaper. He had strong hands. Wyatt could almost feel them running down his body. Ugh, he didn’t want to think of Preston like that. His body, however, wanted Preston twenty four hours a day; it was a bit unsettling. Wyatt had never had sex. He was stubbornly waiting for his mate.

  “I’m all done.”

  Preston looked over the paper and smiled wickedly. “You sure about that?” “Yes, I’m sure. I just put the last coat of wax on her.” Wyatt stood up and made his way back down to the garage and stopped. His heart fell into his stomach and the anger rose inside him so fast he felt his teeth elongating. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered. The truck he had just spent four hours washing and waxing was covered in mud again. Wyatt felt Preston’s presence behind him and he turned on him as soon as his teeth receded.

  Preston smiled; Wyatt’s eyes had changed. “You missed a spot.” Wyatt’s hands curled into fists and he turned on his heel and went for the door before he shifted. “Fuck you, asshole!” Wyatt slammed the door open and walked into the street promptly running into a wall. A wall named Sebastian.

  “Wyatt!” Sebastian picked him up and kissed him hard. Wyatt pushed Sebastian away and wiped his mouth off. “Get off of me! Because of you I’m stuck in fucking hell, Bastian! How could you do that to me? Leave me there to take the fall for your stupid fucking idea?”

  Sebastian took Wyatt around the side of the firehouse and pushed him into the wall. He ran his hand through Wyatt’s hair and kissed his lips. “I’m sorry, baby, but you know I can’t get caught doing anything like that. I’d lose my

  scholarship.”

  “What about me, huh? I had

  something to lose, too!” Wyatt pushed Sebastian away from him. His anger deflating, Wyatt sighed. “This isn’t working for me anymore, Sebastian.”

  Sebastian leaned into Wyatt and ran his hand over the front of his jeans, squeezing. “Your mouth says one thing but your dick doth protest a bit much.” Sebastian turned Wyatt around and pushed his face into the wall, brushing his cock against Wyatt’s ass. “Come on, baby, you didn’t even let me fuck you.”

  “Get off of me, Sebastian.” Wyatt felt the building’s bricks slice into his cheek. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Yeah? I’m going to hurt you so much more, Wyatt; you don’t get to end things with me. Not after months of waiting for you to put out.” Sebastian pushed his cock harder into Wyatt and bit his ear lobe. “Come on, right here. Let me fuck you.”

  “Get the fuck off of him. Now.” Preston stood nearby with his arms crossed.

  Sebastian eyed the man looking at him. “Who the fuck are you? This isn’t any of your goddamn business.”

  “I’m the guy who’s going to put you down so hard you’ll be crying for your mommy. Now get the fuck out of here before I pick you up and throw you out.” Preston advanced slowly looking at Wyatt. “You okay, Wyatt?”

  Sebastian pushed Wyatt harder into the wall. “I’ll call you later, Wyatt. We can talk without interruption.”

  Wyatt watched Sebastian cross the street before he went back into the firehouse. He could feel Preston walking right behind him and his lupine side was fighting to come out. He was pissed, and hurt. How stupid had he been? Years he’d been friends with Sebastian, and they’d only started dating recently. Sebastian had just been waiting him out to fuck him. He felt like a fucking idiot. “Just go away, I have to wash the truck.”

  “I’ll get the probie to do it; slow down Wyatt.” Preston ran to catch up. “Just leave me alone, Dalton. I don’t need your fucking commentary right now, okay?” Wyatt tried to get into his little room but Preston’s foot slid between the door and the jamb. “Jesus, you’ve done enough today!”

  “Just let me look at you, okay? He shoved you into the wall pretty hard.” Preston could see the cut was already healing and a wild, panicked look hit Wyatt’s eyes when he realized the same thing.

  “It’s okay, Wyatt, I know what you are,” Preston said softly. Wyatt stopped breathing and looked into Preston’s eyes. “W-what do you mean?”

  Preston pushed his way into the tiny room and closed the door. “I said I know what you are; I’m friends with Nicholas Stevens. I know you’re a werewolf, Wyatt; I won’t tell anyone.”

  “H-how do you know that? “ Wyatt sat on the bed and looked up at Preston. “How long have you known about us? I mean werewolves?”

  Preston smiled and leaned against the wall, crossing his legs at his ankles. “A long time, I’m okay with it and all. Nick’s cool, we hang out and stuff so…” Preston shrugged his shoulders.

  “Is he like your friend or something else?” Wyatt could feel his cheeks heating; as much as he hated to admit it, he was attracted to Preston - in a real bad way.

  “Are you asking me if I’m gay, Wyatt?
” Preston had to smile. Wyatt’s eyes were finding something interesting on the floor and his cheeks were a bright red.

  “Um, well… I…just, you know…” Wyatt could feel the room getting smaller, if that was possible.

  Preston moved closer and Wyatt stood up and backed into the wall. Preston felt his heart racing as he closed the distance between them. He stood right in front of Wyatt and pulled his face up with his fingertips. “Yes, I’m gay and no, Nick isn’t my boyfriend. There is only one man for me, Wyatt. I’m just waiting for him to grow up.” Preston ran his thumb softly over Wyatt’s cheek and leaned in, looking into those beautiful green eyes.

  “Goodnight, Wyatt.” Preston walked to the door, turning at the last second. “Oh, and Wyatt?”

  “Yes?”

  “Lose the earring.”

  “Can I keep the nipple piercing?” Wyatt smiled mischievously as Preston seemed to shiver.

  “Not a good idea in the house, Wyatt. Goodnight.” Wyatt watched Preston as he left and collapsed on his bed staring at the ceiling. His body was going through all kinds of emotions. He was upset and hurt that Sebastian had used him all this time, and excited and horny from Preston being so close to him. Preston had said there was only one man for him so why did he get so close? Was he that man? Wyatt was more confused than ever; they had just met. How could he be the man for

  Preston? Wyatt sighed and closed his eyes, he’d think about it tomorrow.

  ~~*~~ Preston awoke to sunlight filtering into his room. He had slept through the night for once. No alarms had gone off, no medical emergencies. His body was sore and needed a good run through the woods. Being around Wyatt made it even more difficult to hide his lupine side. His pack alpha, Wayne, had taught him how to mask his scent from Wyatt and right about now he was grateful for it. Wyatt wanted him. Preston knew that as sure as the damn day was long. But it wasn’t enough just yet. Wyatt had to fall in love with him. It was all or nothing as far as Preston was concerned.