Читать книгу Hot In Here - Susan Lyons - Страница 8

This week the Awesome Foursome’s Monday night dinner was at the Fish House on the southwest side of Stanley Park. Jenny was early, so she had time to take the Jeep for a spin all the way around the park.

She started at the north side by the Vancouver Rowing Club and then drove past the cannon that boomed each night at nine. As she passed Prospect Point, she thought life just didn’t get any better. Sunshine beamed down, an Arctic Monkeys CD was in her player, the scenery was gorgeous and—best of all—she had hot stories to tell the girls.

Singing along to the music, she drove under the Lions Gate Bridge then past the female swimmer statue. Who was she anyhow, and had anyone ever done a story on her?

She continued past Second Beach to the par-three golf course, the tennis courts, the lawn bowling and on to the parking lots by the Fish House. As she hopped out of the Jeep, her tummy gave an anticipatory rumble. Mmm, she was looking forward to seared ahi tuna. And a huge helping of those fabulous mashed potatoes!

And she couldn’t wait to see her three best friends. They’d be looking at her in a whole different light by the time the evening was done. Yeah, it was time for Suze to hand over the sex-goddess crown.

The Foursome had first met almost two years ago, when they’d all signed up for a yoga class. Turned out, none of them were that into it. After-class groans had led to giggles over coffee, some serious girl bonding over martinis and finally to weekly get-togethers. Four very different women—Jenny the only Chinese-Canadian—yet they were alike in the ways that counted. Like believing in the power of female friendship. And, Jenny grinned to herself, in the absolute necessity of discussing all things sexual in intimate detail. Man, were the girls going to get an earful tonight!

As she approached the restaurant, she was almost skipping, she was so excited.

The Fish House, a sprawling old building with green and white paint, lattices and verandas, sat nestled under leafy old trees and was surrounded by a lush sea of green grass. It looked serene, a perfect setting for white-haired ladies having afternoon tea. Not for twentysomethings sharing sexcapades.

“Jen!” A voice hailed her from behind.

She turned to see Ann climbing out of her cute red Miata convertible, a little graceless in her tight-skirted navy business suit and pumps. Jesus, was she wearing panty hose? In August?

That girl was truly whipped. Screw being a lawyer, if this was what it took.

Jenny, comfy in her flamingo-pink tank and white cotton capris, waited for her friend to join her. “Hey, office girl. Nice uniform, I don’t think.”

Ann pulled off her jacket and rolled up the sleeves of her ivory shirt. “I have to go to the ladies’ room and ditch the panty hose. And slather on some sunscreen. I think my nose burned, just driving the couple of miles from the office.”

An associate at a huge law firm, Ann spent her days, and a good part of her nights, in a smoky-glass office tower in the heart of downtown.

Jenny inspected her nose. “Pink, and you have freckles coming out. Cute.”

Ann rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I’m aiming for professional. Look, I’ll join you all in a couple of minutes.”

“Don’t dawdle,” Jenny told her, “or you’ll miss my firefighter stories.”

Ann grabbed her arm. “You really did it? I thought you were kidding.”

“Would I kid about sex?”

“Hold on a sec.” Ann glanced around, handed Jenny her purse and jacket, then hitched up her skirt, reached under it, and wriggled deftly out of her panty hose. She stepped out of her pumps, peeled the stockings off her feet and then got back into her shoes. All in no more than ten seconds.

“I’m impressed,” Jenny told her.

“Amazing what a girl can do when she’s motivated. Now let’s get in there so you can spill the good stuff.”

Suzanne and Rina had already snagged a table at the far end of the veranda and were sitting beside each other, facing the entrance. They waved when they saw Jenny and Ann.

Suze was golden and glowing, her fiery hair and light tan set off by a vivid turquoise tank with a V-neck. Rina, who always dressed in flowing gypsy clothes, wore a loose white shirt in some gauzy fabric, and today’s earrings were a cascade of sparkly rhinestones.

Jenny reached out a finger to touch one. “Pretty.”

When Jenny sat down across from Suzanne, Suze peered at her closely.

Jenny couldn’t hold back a grin of triumph.

“You did!” Suze squealed. “Woohoo!”

“I thought you were kidding,” Rina said.

“What is this?” Jenny grumbled. “No one believed me? Come on, I’m no liar.” She paused. “Okay, except with my family, but that’s for their own good. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Or me.” Keeping secrets from her folks had been a habit for so long, she didn’t think twice about it now.

“No, you’re not a liar,” Ann said, “but you’ve been known to exaggerate. Remember telling us about the Korean guy, in the Jacuzzi? I honestly don’t believe he had a ten-inch dick.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one.” Jenny laughed. “No Korean man has a ten-inch dick. A firefighter, though…”

“You saw it?” Rina demanded, then flushed. “Sorry, I mean, you really had sex with him?” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “How? Where? What was it like? Is he as good as he looks?”

Jenny grinned, heightening the anticipation. “Wine,” she demanded.

Ann reached for the wine bottle that sat in a ceramic bucket. She filled Jenny’s glass with something golden and a bit fizzy, and topped up Suzanne’s and Rina’s glasses.

Jenny took a sip of wine—yum, a hint of summer fruit, maybe peaches—as Ann filled her own glass then went through the familiar ritual of shaking a couple of pills from a bottle.

Did Ann ever not have a tension headache?

“Come on, Jen,” Suzanne prompted. “Tell us.”

Jenny, still watching poor Ann, said, “Don’t forget the sunscreen.”

“What? Oh, right.” Ann pulled a tube out of her bag, dabbed her face, then offered the sunscreen around.

Fair-haired Suzanne took some, olive-skinned Rina didn’t, and Jenny, too, waved it away. “I never burn.” Then she giggled. “Now, there’s a lie. I did a whole lot of burning this weekend. I’ll tell you, I’ve never gotten so steamy with a guy before.”

“I thought you were just going to interview him,” Rina said.

“He got me hot.” Jenny shrugged. “The whole evening got me hot, but especially him and that dance number. So I figured, it’d be more fun if I put out the fire with a firefighter than a vibrator.”

“Hey, it’s only fair,” Suzanne said, her eyes twinkling. “The guy who starts the fire should be the one to put it out.”

“You got that right.”

“Must have been dozens of girls who felt the same way,” Ann said. “No offense, but how’d you snag him?”

Jenny grinned mischievously. “Guess he saw something in me.” She gave one of her patented slow-mo head tosses, like out of a shampoo commercial.

The other girls laughed.

“Yeah, I guess that would do it,” Suze said. “Men do go nuts over hair, don’t they? Jaxon is always twining mine around his fingers.” She winked. “And other places.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ann said, running her fingers through her tawny brown hair. She wore it in one of those short, practical styles that was almost androgynous. But her fine features and big hazel eyes were purely female, and the hairstyle suited her. So, though she’d never believe it, did the dusting of freckles.

“Nor me,” Rina said. “There’s long hair like Jen’s and Suzie’s, and then there’s my Medusa head.” Her black hair was a tumble of uncontrollable curls. Pretty, though. She had that just got out of bed look guys found so sexy.

“Both of you have great hair,” Suzanne said.

“Enough with the hair,” Ann said. “Get back to the story, Jen. So, you flipped your hair and Mr. February grabbed you by it and dragged you off?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We made it just outside the back door of the Caprice, then he kissed me and we both lost it.”

“Tell me you did not have sex in a back alley.” Ann sounded horrified.

“Not exactly.”

“Come on,” Ann said, “give us the specifics.”

“Man,” Jenny complained, “you sound like a lawyer sometimes.”

Ann just raised her eyebrows.

“Tell us, Jen,” Rina prompted. “You’re dying to, I know it.”

And so Jenny did, closing her eyes as she remembered. Scott cupping her butt, her skirt hiked up…“I was really close to coming, and he knew it, and he moved just exactly right, pressing that big hard-on against the crotch of my thong, and…and I came. And it was great.”

“Wow, even through clothing.” Rina sighed.

“I’ve never been so turned on before.”

They all stared at each other a moment, then simultaneously reached for their wineglasses.

Their waitress, an attractive woman with laugh lines and gray streaks in her blond hair, came up to the table. “Have you ladies decided what you’d like?”

“More,” Jenny murmured.

“I want what she had,” Suzanne said, straight-faced, then burst out in giggles.

“You get it all the time,” Rina said. “I’m the one who needs it.”

“And I want a double helping,” Ann said. “It’s been so long since I had any.”

By now they were all laughing hysterically.

The waitress frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did y’all want?”

That made them laugh harder.

Ann was the first to pull herself together. “We’re sorry. You came in at the end of a very good story.”

“Good?” the waitress echoed, scanning their faces. Then she winked. “I get it. A sexy story. Sorry, ladies, ’fraid that’s not on the menu tonight. But our mashed potatoes are sinful, and save room for the chocolate lava cake, it’s the second-best thing to sex.”

“Could be first best,” Ann said. “Depending on the man.”

That set them all off again, and the waitress joined in.

A few minutes later, they’d all managed to order. The seared ahi for Jenny and Ann, a trio-of-salmon sampler for Suzanne and plain grilled salmon with lemon for Rina, the perennial dieter.

“No mashed potatoes for me,” Rina said.

“Give them to her,” Jenny told the waitress. “We’ll eat them. And we’ll need an extra helping, too.”

After the waitress had gone, Ann said to Jenny, “So you’re saying you never actually had sex with Mr. February?”

“Did anyone hear me say that?” Jenny demanded, looking around the table. “I just gave you the appetizer. Now I’ll tell you about the main course. You see, he has this big truck—”

“Of course he does,” Rina broke in. “It’s a firefighter rule: you have to drive a truck.”

“And you know this how?” Suzanne asked.

Rina shrugged. “Ever walked past a fire hall? Seen what was parked in the lot?”

Jenny, who rarely blushed, could feel her cheeks heat at the thought of what she’d done in her Jeep in the parking lot of Scott’s fire hall.

“Okay, so he has a truck,” Ann said. “And I’m assuming the truck figures into the story, so carry on. I can’t stand the suspense.”

Jenny did, and her voice must have gotten loud in a couple of places because the girls kept hushing her, even as they leaned forward with sparkling eyes.

When Jenny finished, Suzanne nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah, it’s fantastic when it’s so hot and hard and fast, isn’t it?”

“Incredible!” Jenny agreed.

Ann and Rina exchanged glances. “We’re so happy for you,” Rina said dryly.

“Your day will come,” Suzanne said. “It did for me, and now it has for Jen.” She turned to Jenny. “So, are you seeing him again?”

“Jeez, don’t you want dessert?”

“Excuse me?”

“I gave you the appie and the main course, don’t you want to hear about dessert? I swear, it’s just as sinful as chocolate lava cake.”

“You did it again?” Now it was Rina—normally the quietest of the Foursome—whose voice had Suzanne and Ann hissing, “Sshh.”

“See, the thing is, I never got around to interviewing him.”

“At least you had your priorities straight,” Suzanne commented, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Bet on it, Suzie Q. So anyhow, I went to the fire hall on Sunday afternoon.”

“You had sex at the fire hall?” This time Rina remembered to keep her voice down, but she was leaning so far across the table, her face was only a couple of inches from Jenny’s.

Jenny shook her head ruefully. “Yes and no. We were so close. He was about to—” She paused, remembering Scott’s swollen dick, poised at her entrance. The way he’d eased back and she’d held her breath, anticipating how fabulous that first thrust was going to feel. The memory made her ache with need. It wasn’t just hot-day sweat that was gluing her capris to her crotch. “And the fire alarm went off.”

“It didn’t!” Ann said, as Rina, eyes wide, exclaimed, “Oh, no!”

“That’s just so Backdraft,” Suzanne added.

“Except in Backdraft, they actually got to finish the act before the fucking alarm rang,” Jenny said with disgust. “Real life obviously needs a screenwriter.”

“So what happened?” Rina said.

“He put that gorgeous dick back in his undies, I pulled my pants up, then there were giant men running all over the place and I almost got trampled.”

“Well, they did have a fire,” Ann pointed out, grinning.

“I was fucking burning, too,” Jenny grumbled. “And I had to put that fire out myself.”

“You masturbated in the fire hall?” Rina hissed.

“No.” Jenny giggled. “In my Jeep in their parking lot.”

“You didn’t?” Suzanne’s eyes were gleaming. “Oh, my God, that’s just too funny.”

“I wonder if poor Scott jerked off in the back of the fire engine, with the siren blaring?” Ann asked.

And then they were all howling with laughter again.

Their waitress delivered dinner. “You gals are having way too much fun.”

Once they’d all taken a few bites of fish and the waitress had left them, Jenny turned to Rina. “What about you? Weren’t you going out on Saturday night?”

“With who?” Suzanne demanded.

“This guy named Al. His niece is one of my clarinet students and I’ve met him at a couple of recitals.”

“So how did it go?” Jenny asked. “Was he hot?”

“Uh…not exactly. Not like the firefighters. But he’s not bad.” She seesawed a hand. “I’m not sure what I think. It wasn’t instant chemistry, but we went to a movie and had coffee after, and it was nice.”

“No sex?” Jenny asked. “I thought the whole point was sex? You got so horny seeing the firefighters, you needed a guy of your own?”

“I’m not going to have sex with someone just to…scratch an itch,” Rina said tartly. “I need to feel, you know, really into him. Connected.”

Jenny picked up her wine glass and sipped as she thought about what Rina had said. With Scott, had she been scratching an itch? If so, it was one he’d created. And yeah, she’d definitely been into him.

“Are you seeing Al again?” Ann asked Rina.

“Next weekend.”

“Speaking of next weekend,” Suzanne said, “I’m taking Saturday off work at the clinic and flying down to San Francisco.”

“That’s great,” Ann said. “You’ll see Jaxon’s new apartment.”

“Find places to have sex in San Francisco,” Jenny added with a wink. “Think you guys can do it on the Golden Gate Bridge?” Suzanne and Jaxon were renowned for making out in public places.

Suzanne smiled, but it was halfhearted. “I’m nervous.”

“About screwing on the Golden Gate?” Jenny teased.

Suze rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. He’s got all these plans for Saturday. I told you about how he and his friend coach basketball for underprivileged teens? Well, he wants me to come to the game.”

“And you hate basketball?” Jenny asked.

“No, I like it, and it’d be fun watching Jaxon with the kids. But I’d meet Rick, and he’s a double whammy. Jaxon’s oldest friend and the guy whose law firm he just joined.”

“He’ll love you.” Ann reached over to squeeze Suzanne’s hand.

“I hope. And that’s not even the worst. We’re going over to Jaxon’s mother’s for dinner.”

“Ooh, Suzie, this is sounding serious,” Jenny said.

“It was so much easier before we started down the love path. When it was just me and him and the Champagne Rules. Sex, and nothing else.”

“Easier but less rewarding,” Rina said. “The two of you have a chance at something special. It’s so romantic. Maybe you’ll build a life together.”

“Where?” Suzanne said. “San Francisco or here?” Then she clapped both hands to her temples. “Damn, I’m doing it again. Focusing on the problems, not all the great stuff.” She turned to Jenny. “So, how about you and Mr. February? What’s his name again?”

“Scott Jackman. And what about us?”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“You left the guy with a hard-on,” Ann teased. “Don’t you owe him something?”

Jenny spooned more potatoes from the second-helping bowl in the middle of the table. “I dunno. He never got my phone number.”

“You know where he works,” Ann said.

Yeah, point taken. A modern Western woman wouldn’t think twice about picking up the phone to call a guy she was interested in. Jenny toyed with her fork.

“The question is,” Suzanne said, “do you want to see him again? Or was it just a fun fling with Mr. February? So that, next year, when you look at the calendar, you can say to yourself—” She broke off.

“That guy’s been inside me?” Jenny finished. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I like him. So far all I’ve learned is that he looks great wet, and it’s like spontaneous combustion when we get together.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ann said.

“Yeah, but I can’t see it going anywhere. For me to connect with someone, I have to be able to talk to them.”

“How do you know he can’t talk?” Suzanne asked.

Jenny shrugged. “Firefighter? How many guys with brains go into a job like that?”

“You’re stereotyping,” Suzanne said.

Ann tapped a finger on the table. “True, but let’s face facts. How often d’you get physicality plus brains? Jen, here’s an idea.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“You always pick intellectual guys, but it sounds like the sex is better with Scott. Yes?”

“The orgasms are better. He’s hotter. I’m not sure he’s any more skilled.”

Ann shook her head impatiently. “He hasn’t had an opportunity to exhibit his skills. So what I’m suggesting is, give him that chance. See other guys for the conversation, but keep seeing Scott, too, and enjoy the sex. After all, it’s not like one person can ever meet all your needs.” She shot a quick glance at Suzanne. “Unless of course he’s the superhuman Jaxon.”

“That actually makes sense, Ann,” Jenny said. And it gave her a rationale for seeing Mr. February again.

“With Scott, it’s not just sex,” she said slowly, “it’s kind of about sexual fantasy. I mean, he was the hottest firefighter, the sexiest dancer. I wondered if I could seduce him.” She grinned. “I keep imagining him as my private dancer. In that costume, doing that sexy tap dance just for me.”

“Nice,” Ann said appreciatively.

“I have another fantasy, too,” Jenny confessed. “This is silly, but…”

“Spill,” Suzanne demanded.

“It’s a pure rescue me. I’m in a burning building, he comes rushing in wearing the full regalia and saves my life. He’s a hero. What can a gal do with a hero but strip off all that gear and give him a blow job?”

“What else indeed?” Suze said.

“So I’m right,” Ann said. “You don’t care if you and Scott ever have a real conversation, you just want to act out some fun fantasies?”

“Yeah, I guess. Figure he’d go for that?”

“What man in his right mind would turn down an offer like that?” Suze asked.

Of course her phone number wasn’t in the phone book. That’d be too easy. But Scott remembered Jenny saying her article was for the Georgia Straight.

Fresh from the shower, wearing jeans and no shirt, he lay back on his bed, picked up the phone and dialed the Straight.

When he asked for Jenny Yuen, a brisk female voice said, “Yuen, Yuen, let me see. No, she doesn’t work here, she’s a stringer. A freelancer.”

“Can I get her number?”

“It’s not our policy to give out phone numbers.”

Sensing she was about to hang up, he said, “Wait! She was interviewing me for a story she’s doing on,” he swallowed, hating to say the words, “the firefighter calendar competition, and—”

“The calendar competition?” she broke in. Her voice was all warm and purring now. “You’re one of the winners?”

“Yeah. So, anyhow—”

“Which month?”

“February. But the thing is—”

“Oh! You’re the tap dancer! You were amazing,” she gushed.

“You were there?”

“Cheering as loud as I could. Say, I’d just love to buy you a drink to congratulate you in person.”

“Uh…” He’d never been much for blind dates. “I’m kinda busy right now. And I need to apologize to Ms. Yuen. We were in the middle of, uh, the interview, and the fire alarm went off and I had to leave her, you know, in the middle.” His balls ached at the thought of how they’d left off.

“I wouldn’t normally give out confidential information, but I know I can trust you, since you’re a firefighter. Okay, you got a pen?”

She rattled off a number and he wrote it down.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

She giggled. “I sure hope so. That was mine, for when you’re not so busy. My name’s Farrah. Now I’ll give you Ms. Yuen’s cell number.”

A couple of minutes later he’d gotten rid of Farrah, pulled a can of Coke out of the fridge and was back on his bed, dialing Jenny’s number. And feeling nervous. She could be pissed that he’d run out on her on Sunday. Yeah, it had been a fire, but girls didn’t always get that they couldn’t always come first.

Come. Jeez. He winced. He’d left her unsatisfied, so she had a right to be pissed.

The phone rang a couple of times then she answered, “Jenny Yuen.”

“Jenny?” he said warily. “It’s Scott.”

“Hey!” Thank God, she actually sounded pleased. “The guy on my tape recorder.”

Huh? Then it hit him. “You turned that recorder on and never turned it off.”

“You got it, probie. I have the whole thing on tape.” She chuckled. “Not that there was much to get. Mainly one really, really loud fire alarm.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am about that.”

“Actually, I have a pretty good idea. Must’ve been nasty, fighting a fire with blue balls.”

She had a wicked mouth on her.

And God but he’d like to have that wicked mouth on him. The thought was making him hard.

He wanted to say they had unfinished business, but that’d be pretty crude. He settled for telling her, “I’ve been thinking about you. Wondered if you’d like to get together?”

“Get together? What did you have in mind?”

Sex. “Uh, maybe a movie? Dinner? Or lunch? I have a weird schedule. Ten- and fourteen-hour shifts, sometimes days, sometimes nights. Then I get three days off in a row. So I’m pretty flexible.”

“Mmm. Flexible. That’s good. I like flexible.”

Was he dreaming, thinking she’d put a double meaning into the words? “Uh…great. So, what would you like to do?”

“Test out your flexibility?”

Okay, that definitely had a sexual connotation. “I’m game. How about tonight?” It was Tuesday, one of his days off.

“Great.”

“Want to maybe go for a drink, then later we can check out that flexibility?”

“First I need to ask, are you seeing anyone else?”

“Does it matter?” He wasn’t at the moment. But nor was he ready to commit to exclusivity, not when he’d just met the girl.

“Condoms. You said you were clean, but if you’re getting it on with someone else, we ought to use protection.”

She was right. But it would feel so damned good, going bareback, feeling all that tight, hot flesh of hers wrapped around him. “Nah, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“No? What about that blonde?”

Blonde? He thought back. “You mean that Scandinavian– looking girl with the white-blond hair? No, I’ve never gone out with her.” Only because he’d dumped Scandinavia for China.

“White-blond?” She gave a snort. “Try, overbleached. No, that’s not the one I meant. I’m talking about the strawberry blonde who was wrapped all around you. Lizzie?”

“Lizzie?” He chuckled. “That’s my sister. She was hugging me because she was excited I’d won. She’d helped put together my routine.”

“Nice of her.” And it explained why his act was more subtle, less raunchy, than the others.

“Yeah. So, anyhow, let’s forget condoms, okay? Unless you’re…?”

“Great, we’ll skip them.” She paused again, longer this time. “Scott?” Her voice had gone sultry. “When you rescue someone from a fire, d’you ever get a special reward?”

“Huh?” He really couldn’t keep up with this girl’s brain. “Nah, we’re just doing our jobs.”

“If you rescued me, I’d want to reward you.” Her voice was throaty, sexy. “In fact, I’d want to strip off your turnout gear, then the clothes underneath. And then I’d want to wrap my hair and my hands and my mouth around that sexy, big dick of yours. Does that sound like a fair reward?”

“Oh, man!” His cock was voting yes under the fly of his jeans. “If you’re ever in a fire, be sure I’m the one you call.”

She chuckled. “Actually, Scott, it’s more of a fantasy. I guess you’d call it a rescue fantasy. You rescue me and you get a reward.”

“A fantasy?” What was she saying?

“I have a lot of fantasies.” She drew the last word out into a seductive whisper. “Want me to tell you another one?”

He ran his hand over his throbbing cock, then surrendered, unzipped his jeans and eased it out. Imagining her hands, her mouth, he wrapped his own fist around it. “God, yeah, tell me another.”

“You know that dance you did on stage? I want you to dance it for me. Just me. In that tux outfit. I’ll even loan you back the bow tie. Then I want you to strip, to the music, just for me.”

His brain was saying she was crazy, but his cock disagreed. It thought she was damned hot. “You’re one kinky girl.” His mouth was dry and the words came out hoarse.

“You saying you don’t have any fantasies, Mr. Firefighter?”

Crap. None that he’d confess to. And definitely not to pumping his own cock while a pretty girl talked to him on the phone. “Nah.”

“Liar. Tell you what. You dance for me, I’ll dance for you.”

“Dance?”

“Pole dancing. Using the fire pole at the fire hall some night when everyone’s asleep.”

She’d fuck the fire pole, just like his hand was fucking his cock now. She’d get all hot and wet doing it. He’d get hard as that pole, like he was now. Dripping a little with need. Then she’d come to him and he’d be inside her, her muscles pumping him the way his hand was doing now, and he’d feel the pressure building uncontrollably and…

He’d explode. Like his cock had exploded now, jetting warm cum all over his belly. Jesus.

“Scott?”

If she knew, would she be turned on or think he was some kind of pervert?

The spasms died down, the tension eased from his body. “Okay, Jenny, now I do have a fantasy. I wanna see you twining around that fire pole, just for me.”

“You make my fire-rescue fantasy come true tonight, and I’ll owe you one.”

Make hers come true? Dress up in turnout gear, act out some rescue, then let her strip him and go down on him?

He could do that. At least the last part!

But how about the rest? Did she want to do this at her place? His? How could he stage a rescue in the two-bedroom apartment he shared with Chris, a firefighter who worked the other shift?

When firefighters were in training, they did simulations, but—oh, yeah! He had a brilliant idea. With a little help from a friend, he could make this pretty realistic for Jenny.

He thought quickly, then said, “Bring something you’d wear to bed.”

“’Scuse me?”

“That work for you? It’s the middle of the night, you’re asleep, a fire starts?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.”

He got the sense that, finally, he was one step ahead of her. “Nothing too fancy, though. Something you can wash afterward.”

“Um…why?”

He laughed. “You ever been in a fire? It’s smoky, smelly.”

“Scott! You’re not going to light a real fire? You can’t do that!”

“Wait and see what I can do.”