No dancing girls tonight. And no half-naked woman lying there having rum poured over her gorgeous skin. Hell, her bartender friend wasn’t even there tonight for him to ask about her.
He turned to leave. How was he going to find her? Not seeing her ever again wasn’t an option. Besides great sex, they’d talked. Deep in the night they’d shared a snack of toaster waffles and OJ. Everything about her charmed him, from the way she sliced her waffle precisely on the lines to the way she blushingly asked if she’d talked in her sleep.
He hadn’t been able to rip his gaze from her when she confessed she sometimes said silly things while sleeping.
“While you’re talking in your sleep, is anything you say true?” he’d teased, watching her take a bite of waffle dripping with syrup.
Her cheek bulged with food, and she gave the cutest shrug he’d ever seen. What a question mark she was to him. Adorable girl next door but a wildcat in bed.
He needed to find her.
The big ego blow was that she knew where to find him. She had his T-shirt with his firehouse logo. She knew where he lived, but he’d given up hope that she’d show up on his doorstep.
A few times he’d thought about asking some of the guys if they knew her, but he didn’t really want to know the answer. He feared that one or more of them had slept with Hanna too and well…his dominant side didn’t like that thought. At all.
By the time he reached his apartment, he knew he couldn’t face unpacking or watching sports. He had too much pent-up energy. So he changed into workout gear and five minutes later had the treadmill at the neighborhood gym on a slow jog. In minutes he was warmed up and cranked it to a hard run. Ear buds in, Hanna’s beautiful face looming behind his eyes.
What was it about her that he couldn’t shake? Maybe it was the mystery surrounding her that lured him like a boy to a magic genie. He’d always loved a puzzle, and she was definitely that.
With the hottest, tightest pussy he’d had in his life. And the way she kissed, sucked him, wrapped herself around him… Damn, now he was running with a hard-on.
A couple women wearing tight spandex and sports bras and talking in hushed whispers as they looked around entered. Gym sharks, he called them. They were fishing for men, and shit, now he’d ended up on their man-finder.
He turned his music up louder and tried not to pay attention as they took over the treadmills around him. Sure, they were fit and pretty. Normally he’d think about taking one home. Or hell, both of them. But he wasn’t really in the mood.
As he ran at high speed, he kept an eye on the door for the one woman he’d stop in his tracks for. But she seemed to be gone forever.
Hanna sat at the bar talking to Joey and trying not to seem obvious as she looked around.
The firefighters had just walked in. Big, beefy men. Strong, ropey men. All sizes and shapes. She could only imagine that in full gear they’d be something out of a fireman calendar. Mr. July was always the centerfold, right?
Pivoting her head, she pretended to take a sip of her drink. The guys barreled through the bar and claimed their regular table. Muscled legs bulged in low-slung jeans as they sat. One broad-shouldered man with dark hair and wearing a White Sox baseball hat flipped his chair backward and threw his leg over it in a way that made every woman in the place sit forward.
Except her. He was nice-looking. A hunk, really. But he wasn’t
her
fireman.
The one who’d suspended her in his arms while fucking her hard and deep and staring into her eyes. That intimate moment combined with the feeling of floating made her pussy wet even now.
God, he’d had a dimple. Jagger. He wasn’t among the firefighters here tonight, though.
When she faced forward again, Joey was looking at her with a half-grin. “You ever see him again?”
“Who?” She purposely took a big mouthful of fruity alcohol to render herself incapable of speech for a moment.
“The big guy you left with that night. The one eating you up on my bar?” He leaned in. “You know I’ve always wanted to land a fireman in bed. I’ve had my eye on that one in the ball cap for a year now.”
She watched his face as he drank in the sight behind her. She didn’t dare turn around. “Why don’t you hit on him? Offer him a drink on the house?”
“You know me. I have no gaydar. Do you think he swings my way?”
“Well you swing both ways, so it’s quite possible. There’s only one way to find out, Joey.”
“Yeah.” His eyes seemed to haze over as he stared beyond her. She went back to sipping her drink, her heart pulsing heavily as she strained to hear the firefighters’ talk. They were razzing one of the guys, who just told them in a gruff voice to stuff it up their asses or he’d do it for them.
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Herc?”
She and Joey exchanged a look. “Do you think that stands for Hercules?” Joey whispered to her.
“Probably. Some of those guys are huge.”
“But not as big as that one you went home with. C’mon, Hanna. I’ve been trying for weeks to get the dirty details from you.”
She laughed and stirred her straw around her drink. “I’m not telling you the size of his cock, Joey. You’ll just have to be satisfied with my answer that it was enough for me.”
He burst out laughing. “Girl, you could take a fire hydrant in there.”
Her jaw dropped, but she was quick-witted enough to jerk her drink into her hand. With a flick, she sent the alcohol arcing all over Joey’s face and shirt. He stared at her for a long heartbeat before they both folded in laughter.
He licked the alcohol from his lips before grabbing a bar towel and patting the wetness off his face and shirt. “You know I’m teasing, Hanna. I love ya, girl. If I didn’t value our friendship so much, I might make my move on you. Especially knowing the way men flock to you.” He waggled his damp brows. “I’ve always wanted a threesome.”
“I have no doubt you’ll get it someday, but not with me. You know I don’t do relationships.”
He sobered. Several minutes passed while he served a few drinks to other customers. When he set a club soda before her, she met his gaze.
“Oh no. I see the ‘talk’ forming on your lips. Don’t say a word.”
Joey looked rejected. “You know I have your best interests at heart. You can’t go on shutting out men forever.”
“I don’t shut them out.” Or she did once they started liking her too much. With Jagger, she’d run before he’d awakened. Somehow she’d known the strange intimacy they’d shared would carry into the morning hours, and she couldn’t let Jagger ruin a good night of sex with some silly words or empty promises.
She drank her club soda, her brain snagged on what the firefighters were discussing. Glancing around, she eyed their crew but Jagger hadn’t sneaked in and joined them. She caught snippets of conversation.
They were talking about a fundraiser to be held this weekend. Joey started talking to her, and she hurriedly shushed him so she could overhear. Catching on, he tried to appear busy as he eavesdropped too.
“Date with a firefighter—”
“Can’t believe you’re giving it up, Gabriel. You haven’t dated in what…a decade?”
“Ha-ha,” the guy named Gabriel said dryly. “Figured the best way to earn money for the firehouse repair fund was to donate this.”
Hanna turned in time to see the beefcake in the Sox cap running his hands down his sculpted chest. When she turned away, Joey’s face was red.
“There you go,” she whispered. “Bid enough money and you’ll have a chance with him.”
“I couldn’t go to the auction.” His eyes sparked. “Unless you do.”
“Oh no. No, no. I don’t need more dates with firefighters.” One was enough for her, especially when she couldn’t evict the gorgeous man who’d done such naughty things to her from her head.
“This weekend, Hanna. I’ll pick you up.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“I can’t just go stag. I need a friend. Hannnnna.” His wheedling tone dug its hooks into her.
“Damn you for knowing how soft I am.”
Joey’s grin spread, and he was thankfully distracted by his job for a few minutes. She pushed out a breath. Was she seriously considering going to the firehouse fundraiser where the man she couldn’t get out of her system would definitely be? What if he were auctioning himself? She couldn’t put herself in that situation. Once she clapped eyes on him again, temptation would be too great.
Then again, she wasn’t committing to a relationship with him by going. Even if she landed in bed with him again, she was in control. She had the strength and smarts to walk away before getting hurt again.
As her mind wandered ahead to counting those green flecks in his eyes, she refused to admit she was dumb by even going to the fundraiser. After all, she didn’t really want muscled, gorgeous fireman lovers. She was just supporting their repair fund.
That was her story and she was sticking to it.
Too bad that throb in her pussy loudly screamed otherwise. Squirming on her stool, she hoped whatever Jagger was donating wasn’t going to cost more than she was willing to pay.
»»•««
“Well-involved two-story house fire with reports of victims trapped.”
Jagger dropped the cards he was holding and was on his feet in a blink. Alarms sounded and the guys started running. Already outfitted in some gear, he jerked his suspenders over his shoulders and made it to his locker in seconds for the rest.
Less than two minutes later he was in Ladder Truck 4. The driver hit the gas, cranked on the sirens, and laid on the horn. The deafening sound made it difficult to hear the radio, which was blaring as well.
“Reports of two people and a pet inside. All units responding at Greenawald Circle structure fire. Firehouse 9 is on the scene and already fully involved.”
Jagger adjusted his protective gear that had been haphazardly thrown on in the rush. Across from him, Corey was staring at him.
“You ready, Rookie?”
“Isn’t my first time at the rodeo.”
“No, but dealing with victims the first time is always an eye-opener. Makes a person wonder if he’s cut out for this game.” The older man pushed his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair and gave him a grim smile.
Jagger leaned into the front of the truck and reached past the driver and passenger to grab the radio. He spoke into it. “Make sure Rescue 20 has backup. If there are two victims, we’ll need two ambulances.”
When he plopped into his seat again, Corey gave him a nod of approval.
It wasn’t Jagger’s first fire involving trapped persons either. He’d gotten his start as a volunteer fireman, but only the chief knew that. He didn’t go blabbing about his experience to every man in the house. He figured time would reveal his skill and experience.
“They’ve got a line in,” the speaker said just as East Street pulled up.
Jagger was on his feet and barreling out, grabbing hooks. The need to save always took over his whole body. One time a therapist had asked him how it felt to rescue his dad nightly by dragging him from the bar, but he tried not to think about that much. All he knew was an overwhelming despair if he couldn’t perform.
Corey was at his back. “East Street going in the front.”
The familiar chills crept over Jagger’s nape as he and his team stormed the front of the building. With mask in place he followed Corey and stepped over the water line. Instantly he was flying blind. Smoke billowed from all corners of the house.
He slowed his breathing and threw out his senses. Corey banged into something and Jagger nearly fell over him.
“It’s a chair. I can’t see dick in here.”
“Nobody can.”
“Gabriel here. I’m on the other side of the room. Hold on. I’m coming to you.”
They all stopped until Gabriel had caught up. The rasp of Jagger’s breathing increased. They had precious minutes before they lost a victim.
Not on my watch.
He pushed past Corey and found himself in another room. The source of the fire had to be here—the roar sounded like hell opening up. “We need a line in the west windows now!”
Shattering glass and then a spray. Jagger moved on. If there had been a victim in that room, he wasn’t a survivor. Nobody could live through an inferno like that.
“Hey Rookie, hold up.” Corey’s voice. “Watch your step in here.”
“Wren from Firehouse 9 here. Where have you searched?”
Two voices answered him, and Jagger thumped Corey’s shoulder. “Let’s get in there and find them before 9 does.”
Smoke swallowed them as they inched into the flaming home. Pitch blackness surrounded Jagger and he felt cut off from the world as well as his team. But this was the time his instincts usually kicked in.
He kicked something and it rolled. A ball, maybe? A child’s room?
“In here,” he heard himself say.
“We’ve got no visibility in here.” Corey’s intense tone rippled through Jagger’s skull.
“I can’t hear you. What?” someone else said.
One of his teammates bumped him from behind. “This is the womb of the house,” Gabriel said.
Jagger’s skin prickled and he jerked forward, aware he could be falling through a hole in the floor or walking into a wall. But he felt a heartbeat in here—Gabriel was right.
“Brian here from Ladder 30. I need a light!”
“Where’s the stairway at? Has anybody found it?” another voice rang.
Corey turned and spoke rapid-fire to the team. “Jackson and Wally down this hall. Find that stairway and alert the other ladders.”
Water hit the house with a noise that momentarily drowned the rage of the fire. Then the beast doubled its efforts, roaring flames. A wall of heat almost knocked him flat.
“I got a bed here,” Gabriel said. “Feeling under it now.”
“I’ve got the closet. Searching. Fucking shit everywhere,” Corey ranted.
Jagger felt along a wall and struck a large wooden piece of furniture hard. “Dresser.” He dropped into a crouch and felt between the furniture and the wall. When his hand touched flesh and bone, his throat closed off with relief.
Jagger’s throat opened and he cried, “I got one!” Reaching into the small space only a child could fit, he wrapped his hands around the body and pulled it into his arms. He couldn’t see if it was a boy or girl, but he sure as hell could tell the child was unresponsive. Smoke inhalation. Seared skin—he swore he could smell it despite his mask.