PROLOGUE
Olivia
A week in the future
“So, do you want to see where you are going to live?”
I want to answer yes, but I also consider saying no. If I were going to run away, now would be the time. I could just walk back out the door. I don’t have to do this. I still have options.
Don’t I? Couldn’t I do anything else in the world that I wanted to?
“You don’t have to do anything,” Pete says, as though reading my mind. “Let us do everything.”
The thrill catches in my chest. He may not mean forever, but he means right now. And right now, he’s right… I don’t want to think. Everything is so swirled and entangled in my mind, it’s as though the only thing that makes sense is these three men. All staring at me, all hungry and ready. They all have a simple question on their minds:
Do I want to see where I am going to live?
“You can do whatever you want,” I breathe.
Stephan smiles at me, one corner of his mouth curled up as he strokes the back of my arm.
“Pete is right. Don’t do anything, Olivia. Let us do everything.”
I shudder with every touch. I am on fire.
“Trigger, carry her up the stairs,” Pete says.
Obediently, Trigger lifts me off my feet with no effort. He is such a giant, carrying me doesn’t feel like anything at all. I don’t feel awkward or heavy. I am light as a feather in his arms. He whisks me up the stairs two at a time, like I’m nothing.
The hallway is long and dark, with just four doors. We enter the first threshold, and I look around, startled to see three in beds here.
“You guys all bunk together?” I ask carefully, not wanting to seem rude or judgmental.
“We’ve been partners for a long time,” Stephan explains. “That’s just the way it’s done. Firemen live in the station. That way we can be available any hour, day or night. Anytime there’s an emergency, we can be right there at the ready.”
I consider this for a minute. It’s so strange. It’s a job, but it is more than that. Most people—me included—have always left their jobs after their hours were over. But not these three. Firefighting is just another aspect of their lives. Or maybe it is their lives. These guys are heroes. Living, breathing heroes.
There is one queen bed in the corner and two twin-size beds against the other wall. It’s neat and clean in here. Three dressers are positioned under the window, and there is a line of wardrobes directly across. It almost looks military, in a way. But I guess firemen have been in this building for about a hundred and fifty years. They probably have the whole structure down pat.
“I know it’s not much. But this will have to do,” Pete nods. “At least for now. Is that all right?”
I inhale deeply. It smells like men. Clean, but hardworking. A tinge of cologne. Pine-Sol and a bit of bleach.
“This will do fine.”
Suddenly I’m nervous. They seem to be undressing me with her eyes. Intensely hungry, totally fixated on me. I’ve never had this kind of rapt attention before in my life. I’ve had boyfriends here and there. One man might pay attention to me for a moment and then lose interest, maybe return to sports on the TV. Now it is three men who never seem to take their eyes off me. They’re always watching what I do, making sure nothing is in my way. Making sure nothing could harm me. Almost like they’re enchanted.
Is this what it is going to be like? 100 percent of their attention, 100 percent of the time?
“This way,” Pete says, taking me by the hand.
This is it. I’m committed. All thoughts of running away dissipate like smoke.
As I walk, I unbutton my dress. I can feel Stephan watching me, and I check to make sure Trigger is coming too. By the time I get to the bed, I’m just in my panties. Pete arranges the pillows, indicating that I should lean against them.
The bed is soft and comfortable. I arrange myself as he asks and wait to see what will happen next.
“Perfect,” he remarks.
I press my knees together as they each undress, their eyes fixed on mine the whole time. My body is electric with anticipation. I have to press my knees tight together, just barely letting my thighs rub against each other. I want so much more, so much that I’m ashamed to admit it.
There is no reservation in their eyes. They just drink me in, from my toes to my knees to my hips to my tits. Every bit that they can see, they appreciate.
And I appreciate them too. Pete is the leanest, with his ropey muscles and narrow hips. Strong and supple, confident with his silvery temples and light beard. The hair on his chest is still a dark sable, covering him sparsely across his belly, finishing in a subtle triangle that points to his cock. It is veiny and heavy, lying hard against one thigh. With every heartbeat, it raises higher, and soon will be at full staff.