A Hot Fireman Read online

  A Hot Fireman

  An Erotica Short

  ALSO BY BEBE WILDE

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  A Little Bit Rough

  A Little Bit Controlling

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  A Hot Fireman

  An Erotica Short

  Bebe Wilde

  Abernathy and Monroe

  A Hot Fireman: An Erotica Short. Copyright © 2013 by Bebe Wilde.

  Published by Abernathy and Monroe.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For information, email [email protected]

  eBook ISBN–13: 978-1-938107-47-4

  eBook ISBN–10: 1-938107-47-0

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  For those who love a man in uniform.

  A Hot Fireman

  I have never really had any fantasies about fireman. Well, I guess the idea of a gorgeous, muscular man in uniform did entice me, but it wasn’t at the forefront of my fantasies.

  At least not until I met him and we only met because I burned a pan of cookies.

  It was a cool, fall Sunday afternoon and I loved to bake and chocolate chip cookies were on my mind. So, I made a few dozen and popped them into the oven. Just as I was about to clean up the mess, I got a call from my boss at work who wanted to go over, in minute detail, what we were doing the upcoming week. I was working in marketing for a large, industrial firm and it was a hectic time for us as we had received a mandate from corporate to increase sales by twenty-five percent.

  Well, needless to say, the call went into overtime and I completely forgot about the cookies. They burned to a crisp and set off not only the fire alarm for my entire building but also the sprinkler system in my apartment. The situation was a hot mess, quite literally. The building was evacuated, my apartment was soaking wet and I was quite embarrassed. The fire department was called, they swept the building, pronounced that the “incident” had originated in apartment 32B—where I lived, of course—and was “contained” and everyone could go back inside.

  I got more than a few hostile glances from the people in my building and I felt bad, really, really bad to have ruined everyone’s day. I even joked that I’d make it up to them by baking some more delicious chocolate chip cookies. They weren’t buying it and shot me looks of derision that made me feel even worse. I was sorry, though. I really was. I should have been more careful. I knew that.

  Well, back at my apartment, the mess was more than enough to make me sick to my stomach and put me off chocolate chip cookies for the rest of my life. My new leather Chesterfield couch was ruined as was my retro walnut and ultra cool coffee table. My credenza was soaked and my TV which sat on top of it would probably never work again.

  But the ordeal didn’t end there. I was ordered, yes ordered, by not only the fire department but my building’s tenant association as well, to attend fire safety classes. My work schedule be damned. There would be no working over for the next month.

  All of this over a damned pan of cookies.

  Needless to say, my boss was more than a little pissed off at me for not being about to stay over at the office. But it was kinda her fault. She was the one who called me at home and got me distracted. But there was nothing I could really do about it. I had to go to the classes. And so I did.

  The classes were held in an old repurposed school building that had been converted into a community center. It smelled of pine cleaner and old gym socks. The room where we met was in the old library. There were still a few bookshelves, though they were devoid of any books, and an oversized map of the subway system on the wall. The chairs, which were probably left over from when it was a school, were small and very uncomfortable. The room was packed with others like me, there for some fire safety training. So, it was me, some others like me. Oh, and one hot fireman.

  Yes, one hot fireman.

  And when I say hot, I mean hot. I didn’t even really know men like him existed in real life to be quite honest. Yes, I’d seen some good looking men in my day, but mostly just on TV or in the movies or in magazines and I’d also seen a few of them walking the city streets. But for the most part, the majority of men I’d run across looked like… Well, just normal guys. They were some cute, some handsome, some geeky, some this and some that. Just guys, men, you see every day. Nice or grumpy, skinny or dumpy but mostly average men.

  And then there was him.

  Wow. If there was ever a thing called love at first sight, then I felt it. Wait. It wasn’t love I felt. It was lust and I’d say put a capital on that “L”—L-u-s-t. He just made me… Well, want him and want him badly. He sparked something in me to say the least.

  It was obvious that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way, either. There were about twenty or so people attending the class and over half were women. When the hot fireman walked into the room, they started to fidget in their seats, and not just because the chairs were so fucking uncomfortable, either. I could see the lust and want in their eyes. It matched mine, that’s for sure. Well, maybe mine was greater. I don’t know. It’s just that you don’t see a man like that every day.

  And what a man he was, too. Tall, of course. I’d say he was well over six-foot. And broad-shouldered. Ummmm… Yeah. Those shoulders of his… Well, I could imagine the things he could lift over his head, maybe a small car? And then there were his arms, muscular and covered with a crisp, white cotton t-shirt that stretched over him in the most delectable way. It fit very well, not too tight, not too loose, just divine looking enough to make you want to yell, “Take your shirt off!” because, well, you wanted to see what was under there. (I was more than sure his half-naked stellar physique would make me swoon.) He also had a light tan, like he’d had a great one all summer and it was just now starting to fade some.

  Then there was the matter of his face. Oh, wow. Wow. Wow. Wow. Did I say he was handsome? It went beyond that. He was like a Roman god or something. Just this perfect face, masculine looking and perfectly symmetrical. His hair was dark, almost black, and cut short to show off his best feature of all—his eyes. They were a deep, deep blue. I’d never seen eyes like that and when he looked at you, he really looked at you. And you felt like you were floating on a cloud when he did. He had that kind of an impact on us ladies.

  Not that I paid any attention to anyone else, of course, once he walked into the room, throwing his vintage looking old-school leather gym bag on the table. He looked around the room, told us his name was Fynn—he even spelled it for us so there old be no confusion, telling us that there was no “I” just a “Y”—and proclaimed us all to be “ignorant of fire safety” and he would not allow us to leave until we knew everything we needed to about “fire and the hazards it poses.”

  Did I mention that he was perfect? Well, no man is perfect and if you’re like me, you’ve dated enough to know this. However, he was pretty close. On the downside, he could get a little crazy a
bout fire safety, animated, passionate about it even. Yes, I know it’s a serious topic but he’d get downright fanatical about it, making fists and hitting the table to emphasize a point.

  But looking at him made the topic bearable, to say the least. Needless to say, I began to look forward to going to my fire safety classes. And I’d dress with care, too. I was a pretty woman and in good shape, thanks to my gym membership. I wore my long, dark hair down around my shoulders and touched up my make-up after work. I emphasized my eyes, to make my baby blues stand out. I wore some really cute sweater sets that showed off my good-sized breasts and thin, pencil skirts that hit just below the knee that showed off my calves. Even though I wanted to change out of my black leather—and sexy—stilettos because they were killing me by the end of the day, I never did. I made sure that I always wore them to class, turning this way and that in my chair so he could get a good look at my legs.

  And he looked at me. I know he looked. Well, at first I didn’t know for sure and felt that that maybe, just maybe, I was making a big old fool of myself. But occasionally I would see him glance my way, taking in me and my clothes, which hugged my body in a very tasteful but sexy way. I felt sexy and I think he thought I was sexy. But I couldn’t be sure. He was utterly focused on fire safety.

  Sometimes, we’d go outside so he could teach us how to properly use a fire extinguisher. Sometimes, he go around the room and ask random questions about the particular topic we were studying. Once he stopped on me.

  “Tell me… What was your name again?” He sat down on the edge of the table.

  I blushed and mumbled, “Tess,” then ducked my head a little.

  “Yes, Tess,” he said and took a breath. “What is the most important thing about fire safety?”

  “All of it,” I said, regaining my wits.

  He chuckled and smiled at me. “Yes, this is true.” He stood again and paced in front of the table. “But one of the most important things we can ever do is install a fire alarm. And check the batteries! You have to check the batteries and make sure it is working properly!”

  Then he went into a tirade about smoke alarms and daylight savings time and batteries and I just sat there and half-smiled at him, loving the fact that he’d called on me. It made me feel so good to be noticed by him that I barely paid any attention to what he was saying.

  He stopped suddenly and said, “And that’s why, Tess, this fire safety rule is important.” Then he gave me a wink.

  Oh, wow! I was in heaven then! I was right! He liked me, a lot. Yeah! Hell yeah! I could tell that all the other women in there were jealously shooting daggers at me with their eyes. I chuckled to myself. Take that, bitches! This man is mine! At least I planned on making it so anyway.

  How exactly I was going to make this hot fireman mine, I hadn’t a clue. But I was working on it. I wanted him bad and I could tell he was crushing on me, too. We had that rapport. We had this energy between us. He’d call on me during class and we’d flirt a little, inciting a little envy from the other women, but so what? They could just go to hell for all I was concerned. I was single, I hadn’t been laid in a while, and I wanted him. But how? How to approach him like that? How to let him know I wanted him? Time was running out and I wasn’t sure of the best way to go about it. Good thing for me, he was apparently thinking the same things about me and approached me one day after class.

  “The course will be finished next week,” he told me.

  I nodded. I knew that and dreaded the day when I could no longer come here and stare at his superb body. I had even considered taking a few pictures of him with my phone, but decided that would be totally uncool. He’d know I did it, as would the rest of the class. “I know,” I said. “It’s almost over.”

  “Listen, Tess,” he said and gave me a slightly pained smile. “I feel like you’re not really getting all this.”

  “I’m not?” I asked, surprised. Had he been able to tell that I was so interested in looking at him that I had a hard time listening to what came out of his mouth? “What are you suggesting? Do I have to repeat the class?”

  “You might,” he said then cracked up. “No, you’re good. I was just messing with you.”

  Phew, I thought and smiled at him, deciding I was going to go a little flirty on him. “So, you don’t think I need some further instruction?”

  He leaned in towards me and nodded a little. “That might help. You’re a special case,” he said. “We could do some classes on our own.”

  Wow. He was really digging me. I loved that. “What sort of classes?” I asked, loving the way he was looking at me. I was almost swooning over him. Actually, I think I was swooning.

  “Private,” he said and gave me a look.

  Or we could just fuck right here, I thought. Maybe find a broom closet? I shook that enticing thought right out of my head. Couldn’t seem too over-eager. “And how would that work?” I asked.

  “Just a little one on one,” he said. “Just so that you fully understand all about fire safety. I’ll have you whipped into shape in no time. I would feel bad if I hadn’t properly taught you how to be safe.”

  I almost felt my knees buckle. The lust between us was palpable He was really, really coming onto me. And he could come on a lot stronger and I wouldn’t complain.

  “How does that sound?” he asked.

  “I think I’m up for that,” I said. “I’d invite you to my apartment but it’s still a wreck from the sprinkler system.”

  “Forget that then,” he said. “Come by my place on Saturday. About seven or so? We’ll get right to it.”

  Again, I almost fell to the floor. But there was no way in hell I’d miss that lesson.

  * * * * *

  I was all a flutter until the time to meet Fynn finally arrived. I was dressed in a cute pair of skinny jeans and a nice cashmere sweater with ankle boots. My hair was up in a nice ponytail and my make-up perfect. I looked really pretty and I hoped he’d notice. It took a lot of effort to look this casual. I knew we were just meeting at his place, but I wanted to look as sexy as possible.

  After a few subway stops, I found his apartment easily and he buzzed me in. His door was ajar and I glanced inside, hoping to see him, perhaps, in just a soft, white towel. But he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I leaned on the doorframe and stuck my head in and called, “Hello?”

  He came to the door drying his hands on a towel from the kitchen at the back of the apartment. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He stepped back and looked me over. “Wow, you look fucking hot! You look like you’re going out or something.”

  I felt my face sting in embarrassment. Was this, like, not a date? What was that about? Why has he said that? Was I overdressed? Had I misread the signs? I stared at him, not knowing what to think. So, I said, “Uh, I thought… No, I didn’t think that.”

  “I’m cooking dinner,” he said and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

  He was really confusing me. Didn’t he want me here? Was I wrong? Was I overdressed or underdressed? I did look like I was going to meet my girlfriends in a swanky bar but I liked to dress nice, even for a night in. Had I misread something? I stared at him, dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans, an old concert t-shirt and bare feet. His feet were big, really big. I knew what that meant. Then I stared at his face and he was grinning. Bastard! He was just pulling my leg. This was a date. Okay, fine. I was now embarrassed and I kinda wanted to punch him on the arm.

  “We’re eating here,” he said and winked at me. “Sorry, I was just fucking with you.” He nodded a little, still taking me in. “I like to cook rather than go out. I never get to use my kitchen because I’m always at the station.”

  I nodded. “Oh,” I said.

  “But, wow, you look hot,” he said. “Even hotter than in class.” He nodded then stepped back so I could enter the apartment.

  I stepped in and said, “Uh, okay, thanks. I guess.”

  “Forget it,” he said and jerked his head. “Get in here.”

&nbs
p; Whoa. He was… Well, assertive. I liked that. I also liked his apartment. It was in an older pre-war building and while small, was well put together and very clean and tidy. He had masculine furnishings and some cool, funky artwork he said he “picked up from some street artists.” He had style. He was cool. He was super hot. How did I get this lucky?

  “I made dinner,” he said and waved his hands over the table which was set with some really nice looking dinnerware. He turned to me. “You do know this is a date, right?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I kinda got that.” I didn’t add, Even though you didn’t give off that impression when I got here.

  “I know,” he said and shook his head, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s just we’re always flirting or sparring or whatever you want to call it. And then you’re dressed like we were going out somewhere. I mean, we can go out if you want to. It’s up to you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not that dressed up,” I said, even though I probably was.

  “If you say so,” he said and shook his head a little. “Anyway, I wanted to make sure that… Forget it. I look like an ass right now, don’t I?”

  I shook my head, getting lost in his blue eyes. “No, you look pretty good right now.”

  He grinned. “Well, get in here,” he said and then slapped my ass.

  I jumped a little and stared at him, thinking I should be offended or whatever but I wasn’t. I loved that he slapped my ass and told me what to do. It was really, really sexy. In a fun way, though. He was a take-charge kind of guy and I appreciated that. Quite a lot.

  “Come on,” he said.

  I followed him into the kitchen and was amazed at the meal he had prepared. It looked and smelled delicious but the kitchen was a complete wreck. He had bowls and utensils and pots and pans all over the counter, all over the stove. It looked like he’d put in an awful lot of work for this meal. “You didn’t go to much trouble, did you?” I joked.