Authors: Sami Lee
Corey and Griff were both working the day shift. Tonight it would be all three of them once more, and Erica’s body already pulsed with the knowledge. “Booked, I’m afraid.”
“Seriously, Erica. That man is going to ask you to marry him one of these days.”
Erica’s heart fluttered for a moment then sank as heavily as an iron anvil. “You know that’s not going to happen.”
Pam sighed. “You still haven’t told him, have you?”
Just as she hadn’t revealed everything to Pam, she hadn’t detailed her medical issues to Corey or Griff. If she had a doctor’s appointment, she told them she was with Pam. If she was with Griff when Pam knew Corey was working, she made up some other excuse to fob off Pam’s invitations to the movies or out dancing.
What a lying sneak she’d become, all so she didn’t have to give up the deliciously decadent sex she’d been indulging in for the past couple of months. Make that a lying
selfish
sneak.
“Once I tell him, it’ll be over.” The notion tightened her chest. She’d known it all along but somehow Corey had still burrowed into her heart, creating his own space that she doubted would ever be occupied by anyone else.
“Maybe you’re underestimating him.”
Pam didn’t understand. Corey was completely enamored with her breasts. He couldn’t get enough of looking at them, fondling them or kissing them. Erica relished every moment of his attention, appreciating her body as she never had before. It was unbelievable what the simple act of taking off a blouse could do for a man’s arousal levels—and for a woman’s sexual confidence. Griff, as he’d once said, was more an ass man but Corey was definitely one individual who loved boobs. How was he going to react when she told him she was going to get rid of hers?
“I will tell him—when I have to.”
“And in the meantime?”
“I’m enjoying a hot fling while it lasts. Gosh, Pam, I’ve never had one before.” Erica knew her expression must have turned dreamy. “Am I wrong to take what I can for now?”
“I don’t know, Erica. Maybe.”
They stepped out into the car park, where the sun beat down on the black asphalt, raising the air temperature by several degrees. But it was the conversation as much as the humid atmosphere that made Erica’s blood heat.
She turned to face Pam. “I thought you were happy for me.”
“I am. But what about Corey? He seems like a terrific guy and you’re just using him.”
Pam’s accusation sucked the breath from Erica’s lungs. “He’s using me too.”
The statement didn’t ring true. She’d bet Corey Wachawski had never used another human being for his own selfish ends in his life.
Gently, Pam queried, “Have you considered the possibility he’s in love with you?”
“You don’t understand.” Corey wasn’t in love with her, he was in love with Griff. “The thing I have with Corey…it’s never been heading toward some picture-perfect happy ever after. He knows that. And I won’t let myself believe in something that can’t happen.”
“Why can’t it happen? You should tell Corey the truth and it might have a chance.”
“He’s not the only one I’ve been sleeping with,” Erica blurted. “There’s someone else too, and Corey knows.”
Pam stepped back, agape. “Someone else?”
“A friend of his. More than a friend, actually. Corey has a male lover and they…share me.”
The silence was as palpable as the summer humidity. Pam stared at her for so long Erica wondered if the other woman had gone into shock. At length Pam rasped, “Whoa.”
Erica pushed out a sigh. The truth was out now, for better or worse. “Do you think I’m disgusting?”
Pam merely repeated, “Whoa.”
There goes my one source of sisterly solidarity.
“I get it, it’s weird. But you understand what I mean. Corey and I are not going down any traditional paths here, no marriage proposals, no nothing. I’m just a novelty to him and Griff.”
“Okay.” Pam blinked. “If you say so.”
“If I don’t see you tomorrow, have a good holiday, Pam,” Erica said sadly.
When she made to leave, Pam touched Erica’s arm. “I don’t think you’re disgusting. I think I might be jealous though.”
Relief made Erica laugh a little too loud. “I know it takes some getting used to.”
“I bet.” Pam eyed her steadily, concern in her eyes. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Erica.”
So do I.
Erica walked in the direction of the train station but ended up veering across the street instead, not yet interested in going home. Corey and Griff wouldn’t be finished work for a while, then they would have to shower and change. It would be hours before she saw them.
A little desperate, aren’t you, Erica?
Pathetic or not, Erica
was
desperate to see them. It was as though her body had become addicted to the release only they could give her. Even playing with her toys—or the new ones Griff had bought her—didn’t hold the appeal it once had. On her own it wasn’t nearly as much fun.
When her meandering steps brought her within blocks of the Ashton Heights firehouse, Erica admitted the truth. Her wanderings hadn’t been aimless at all. Getting an idea, Erica ducked into a bakery around the corner from the station and bought a tray of pastries.
The fire-station doors were open and water ran out from inside, wetting the pavement. Erica stepped gingerly over the shallow rivers in her black pumps, passing the front of a huge fire engine which gleamed damp and shiny in the slanted afternoon sun. At the driver’s side of the vehicle, a man stood hosing off the massive wheels. He had blonde curly hair that brushed hard shoulders encased in a tight black T-shirt.
“Excuse me.”
The man turned suddenly, swinging the hose as he did so. Instinctively, Erica squealed and leapt out of the path of the spray. The man was quick to apologize and turn off the water, but her yelp had gotten the attention of his coworker, who yelled from the back of the truck. “Curly, what are you doing down there?”
Following the sound of the voice, Erica looked up and saw a familiar pair of hazel eyes staring down at her from on top of the truck. The mere sight of Griff made her heart beat out a crazy rhythm against her rib cage. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself.”
“I come bearing gifts.” Erica indicated the box she held. “There’s enough for everyone.”
Curly exclaimed, “What a champion!” and took the pastries out of her hands, opening the lid and mooning over the contents.
“Don’t mind the ravenous hound there, that’s Curly,” Griff drawled. “Curly, this is Erica.”
“It’s Rob, actually. Nice to meet you, Erica.”
Erica smiled. “Likewise.”
Rob flashed her a grin that made two adorable dimples appear in his cheeks. With his curly blond hair and soft brown eyes, he reminded Erica of a particularly friendly Labrador.
Griff whistled at Rob as though that was exactly what he thought as well. “Down, boy. You’d better take those out back and tell Wachawski he has a visitor.”
As Rob aka Curly went to do as suggested, Griff used a ladder mounted on the side of the vehicle to climb down. His booted feet landed on the cement beside Erica with a resounding thud. “What’s up, Red? You get a better offer for tonight?”
Surely he didn’t think that was possible. “No, I just thought the guys might like the afternoon snack.”
He smiled shrewdly. “Couldn’t wait to see our blue-eyed boy, could ya?”
Griff always had been able to read her so well it sometimes frightened her. Her gaze trailed over him as though of its own volition. The yellow rubber pants held up with braces was the same outfit he’d worn in the firefighter’s calendar—except in that photo he wasn’t wearing the black T-shirt he wore today. It was all so eerily similar—the outfit, the gleaming red fire truck and Griff’s lopsided, brashly confident smile—that arousal gripped her with hot fingers, teasing every nerve ending in her body.
Her lips were so dry she had to wet them. “I didn’t only come to see Corey.”
Griff’s eyes tracked the movement of her tongue. Because the way Griff looked at her incited something impish inside her, Erica repeated the maneuver especially for his benefit.
“Jesus, Red,” Griff breathed. “The ideas you put in my mind probably aren’t legal in all states.”
“Erica?” Corey emerged from out back, sporting a wide smile. When he reached her, he swooped down and kissed her on the mouth. “It’s great to see you.”
“You too.” Corey’s obvious pleasure at the sight of her made Erica’s throat close over.
“The guys are going crazy for that stuff you brought in. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Maybe you can pay her back by giving her the tour,” Griff suggested. “Girls always love to check out the equipment.”
Griff’s blatant innuendo made Erica flush, and Corey slap him dead center on the chest. At the playful contact Griff froze. “I’ll be out back supervising the crowd. Take your time showing Erica the trucks, Wachawski.”
He left so abruptly it was as though a cold breeze had blown through the garage. Corey glanced after Griff, his expression for once unreadable. Then he turned back to Erica with a warm smile.
He showed her around the facilities, explaining the difference between the truck they called a Firepac 3000—which carried a 1000-liter water tank and was perfect for the urban environment—and the Aerial Ladder Platform, which was designed to rescue fire victims from multistory buildings. The gleaming red machines were huge and impressive, much like the man showing them off as though they were his very own.
Erica smiled at Corey’s exuberance. “You love the trucks, don’t you?”
“What’s not to love? They’re big and powerful.” Corey leaned in a little, backing her against the cool, hard surface of one of the vehicles. “They have everything you need to put out your fire.”
High on all the testosterone floating around a shed full of huge trucks and hard-bodied firemen, Erica was happy to play with the innuendo. She fluttered her lashes. “You mean like a really big hose?”
Corey settled his lower body against hers. “You know it, baby.”
“So this is the equipment Griff was referring to.” Erica arched a little, causing their hips to bump. “The stuff all the girls like.”
“I’m not interested in
all
the girls.” Tenderly, he touched her face. “Just this one right here.”
The softness in his gaze made Erica’s heart race. Pam was wrong, she assured herself. Corey was interested in having sex with her, that was all. He wasn’t in love with her. “Can I tell you a secret? I’m wearing one of those lacy corsets Griff bought me.”
Corey’s brows hiked. “The blue one or the white one?”
“The white one with the little pink bows on it.”
Corey groaned. “I
love
that one.” He leaned farther into her, pushing her flush against the truck. “Will you show it to me?”
Erica pretended to demure. “You’ve seen it.”
“Only once.” He dipped his head and trailed his hot breath over her neck. “Come on, baby. Just a little peek.”
The light brush of his lips on the sensitive skin of her throat made Erica quiver. “There are several of your workmates in the next room.”
“Griff’ll keep them from coming out here. He knows the second you turned up today I wanted to kiss you more than I wanted anything.”
To prove it, Corey transferred the press of his lips from her neck to her cheek, then to her mouth. Instinctively, Erica arched against him, needing what he gave her as much as he wanted to take it—right here in a shadowy corner of the fire station against the Firepac 3000.
Corey cupped her breast through her blouse, groaning softly as he pulled out of the languorous kiss. “Show me.”
Trusting him at his word that Griff would ensure their privacy, Erica worked her buttons free with trembling fingers and parted the fabric. The corset was made of satin that cinched in her waist and did a great job of lifting and separating everything else. She was breathing so hard the bra cups barely contained her breasts. Corey’s gaze smoldered as it landed upon the pebbled tips, visible above the pretty pink bows lining the garment.
Releasing an epithet, Corey brushed a thumb over one nipple until it jutted toward him eagerly. His other hand slipped beneath her skirt, lifting it higher on her thigh as he fitted himself more closely to her body.
Erica had to wind her legs around his waist to keep her balance. The rubber of his pants chaffed her inner thighs and Corey winced. “I guess turn-out gear is not exactly a turn-
on
.”
He had to be
kidding
.
The rubber pants might conceal a lot of his lower body but the tight black T-shirt he wore with them defined every perfect muscle. Bunching the cotton in her fist, Erica lifted it so she could touch skin. “Why do you think they make you put it on for the calendar shoot?”
“Oh.” Corey smiled in understanding. “I figured that was a gimmick.”
“Corey.” Erica rubbed her wet crotch against him. “I am so turned on right now.”
“I can help with that.” Slipping a hand between their bodies, Corey found the front of the lacy G-string that matched the corset and stroked her heat. “But you’ll have to be quiet, baby.”