My Filthy Fireman (A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance) Read online

  MY FILTHY FIREMAN

  A Steamy Older Man Younger Woman Romance

  Mia Madison

  Copyright © 2016 Mia Madison

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), places or events is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual activity are 18 years of age or older.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author or publisher.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to the author.

  NOTE: This story contains scenes of a sexual nature and language only suitable for mature readers .

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  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  Olivia

  “You're going to sleep with him tonight?”

  I can tell Holly is surprised at me. But Jed has been at me for weeks now.

  “Yes, I'll give him something to remember while he's away.” I sip the fruity drink someone handed us when we got to the party and taste the kick in it. It’s not just juice. The celebration was already in full swing—a typical end of school, going away for the summer party, dim lights from candles dotted around the room, couples making out in the corners, music so loud the neighbors are bound to complain at some point. I'm hoping the drink will calm my nerves. I won't see Jed for weeks after the weekend. Not until he gets back from Europe.

  “Where is he anyway?” Holly looks around the party. She has her sights set on his friend Ben so there's an ulterior motive in her asking. Even in the darkness of the room it's clear Jed and his friend are not there. Jed is easy to spot. He's taller than most of the guys standing around clutching beer bottles, and happily I don't even have to look among the paired off couples. We've been an item for four months now and he's never had eyes for anyone else.

  “He said he'd see me here. He'll be along soon. Ben, too, no doubt.” I grin at her. “Joined at the hip those two, but not tonight.”

  “Hope not,” she says and laughs. “You won't be wanting an audience, not for your first time.”

  “Not any time, thanks.” I take another sip of my drink, and we move to the kitchen, too late we realize that's where bitch-face Becky has gathered with her coven. But she just ignores us and we escape, unscathed by her acid tongue for once and go back to the living room just as Jed and Ben arrive. Jed is talking to some of the guys when he spots me. Why doesn't he come over?

  But then he's right here with me. Holly wanders off, probably to see if she can get Ben's attention and Jed kisses me on the cheek. I smile at him and he smiles back. All is well. Or it would be if he wasn't about to go off for a month. Lucky him! His parents are treating him to the trip for getting a scholarship to college. I can't get mine to cough up anything like that. I'm not the flavor of the month. At all. My grades weren't good enough for that. They said I didn't try hard enough but I don't want to study what they want me to study. I want to paint. They are still insisting I go to the community college and do better this year so I get a degree eventually, no matter what.

  “Let's get out of here,” Jed whispers in my ear.

  I nod. Whatever is in that fruity drink has already had an effect on me. I thought we would stay at the party for a while and then he'd take me home and then...But he takes my hand and leads me out of the room through the kitchen into the back yard. It's surprisingly cool out there. I shiver. Why is he bringing me out here? There's no one else outside. But I can't imagine anything happening here. It’s too visible from the house.

  “The thing is, you know I'm going away in a couple of days and I won't be back for ages.” He's looking at me as if he's worried I might take off before he says what he wants to say. If only he knew he didn't have to persuade me to go further than we've ever gone before, that I've already decided tonight is the night.

  “I can't wait until you get back but before you go—”

  “That's the thing. I don't think you should wait for me.”

  “Of course, I'll wait. There's no one else.” Why is he saying these things when he knows how close we are, how much we mean to each other?

  “I don't want to have to worry about you on my trip. I want to enjoy it, you know—whatever happens...”

  And then I realize, stupid me. “You want to break up with me?”

  “I don't want to, but I think it's for the best. We can still hang out for the next couple of days if you like.”

  “What? You're kidding me, Jed. I don't want to hang out with you. I thought I meant something...oh never mind what I thought.”

  “I'm sorry.” Jed tries to take my arm but I wrench it from him.

  “Not sorry enough,” and I leave him standing there among the trees. I've got to go back in now past bitch Becky and her cronies and the couples making out and all the guys having a good time, find Holly and get home somehow. I didn't even organize a ride with her. I was so sure I would be with Jed. But I'll make sure I get home with Holly.

  I'm trying not to let anyone see how upset I am as I try to find her. A guy from school hands me another drink. “Have you seen Holly?”

  “Over there” he says, nodding in the direction of the corner where Holly is wrapped around Ben. Fuck! What do I do now?

  But Jed has followed me in. He looks over at his friend too and shrugs. “Be seeing you, then” he says and before I know it he's left the party and gone. He's done what he came to do—wreck my life. The one thing I thought was going right in it was just as messed up as the rest of it.

  So I'm stuck at this party like a sad loser trying to keep from actually crumpling into a heap. I have to face these guys for the rest of the summer. Crying is for later when I'm alone or with Holly if she's even going home anytime soon. She looks pretty occupied to me.

  “Hey, Olivia, where's Jed. I thought I saw him here,” one of the guys says.

  “He had to go.”

  “Well, come and join the party then.” He pulls me over. I'm not in the mood but I join their group. They're ribbing each other about something or other and I just stand there in silence swallowing my drink and when I finish it, someone gives me another one.

  I'm not sure what's in this thing. It's going right to my head. The room is swaying a bit or it could be me swaying. I'm not sure which. I'm not used to drinking. Where is Holly? I need to go home.

  I look over to the corner where she was but she's not there. I have to find her. I leave the group of guys and flail about looking for her, but then I need the bathroom. Downstairs is occupied. Fuck. I'm going to throw up in front of everyone. I jus
t make it up the stairs to the family bathroom but that's occupied too. Desperate, I go searching in the bedrooms along the hall. One is full of coats and a couple making out. Not going in there. Second one. No bathroom! Master bedroom is even farther along the hall—and thank goodness just what I need—a bathroom in there. I lock the door, splashing cold water on my face hoping to calm down. Can this party get any worse?

  There are squeals coming from downstairs. Someone is having a good time. Lucky them! But then I hear glass smashing. Girls are screaming and people yelling “Get out!” Fuck! A fight has broken out. Gate crashers? I have no idea what the hell is going on. There's a siren. Have they sent for the cops?

  I'm staying in here well out of the way until that fight has blown over. There's quite a din but the music is still blaring out so it can't be that bad. But then I really don't have any choice about staying right here where it's safe because I'm puking my guts out.

  Ugh! That acid foul taste. Once was enough but then I have to bend over the toilet again. I'll never drink too much like that again. I catch my breath. My heart is beating like mad. I listen. The music has stopped. And there’s a crackling sound through the silence. It’s weirding me out. What is that noise? And then the bathroom door crashes in and smoke starts filtering into the room.

  CHAPTER 2

  Luke

  I fucking hate college parties. All those hormones raging, kids getting drunk before they know how to handle it and fucking candles just because a light bulb is too bright for making out in the corners of the room. Don't they realize how candles get knocked over? How candles on windowsills set fire to drapes and before they know it, because they are too engrossed to realize it the whole place is up in fucking smoke? I love my job, except when someone gets killed. You never get used to that. But getting people out of fires and wrecks and getting them out still alive. That never gets old. Lucky for this lot they had the presence of mind to call the fire service at the first lick of flames and get everyone out. Only when we get there a couple of minutes later to put out the fire one girl is screaming, “Where's Olivia? Did she go home? Is Jed with her?”

  Some guy says, “No, she was with us a few minutes ago.”

  “I'm pretty sure I saw her go upstairs. Isn't she here? I thought everyone got out,” another says

  And I'm putting on the breathing apparatus to go find this girl. Jack has the hose uncoiled and has it trained on the room where the fire is, dowsing down the flames. A couple of us run to search inside. I go upstairs, the smoke is not too bad yet, but it's hot and I hear Ryan through the radio. It's garbled but I get the message. The ground floor is all clear.

  I start going through the rooms upstairs one at a time, opening and closing doors to stop the fire spreading into other spaces, my heart pounding. There's no one anywhere I look, not in five rooms and the smoke is starting to swirl around, rising through the air. Where the hell is she? Did she get out already and go home without anyone knowing?

  Finally, I get to the last room along the hall. No one is in that bedroom either but then I make out a closed door and the sound of someone puking their guts out. I shut the bedroom door keeping the worst of the smoke out but the bathroom door is locked. That barrier lasts all of two seconds before I'm in there, a thin veil of smoke coiling inside. I grab a towel and wet it and give it to the girl.

  She looks stunned, shock on her face. I gesture for her to hold the towel over her face and I radio for the ladder. The girl is slight and I scoop her up from the bathroom floor because I'm not sure she can get up in the state she’s in.

  I could carry her out, no problem. She weighs nothing, but we can't go through the house. Towel or no towel over her face that acrid smoke might kill her. In a second, we are through the smashed bathroom door into the bedroom where smoke is starting to curl thickly under the door.

  I hope they are not over diligent with their home security measures in this place. If the bedroom window is locked, I'll have to smash it taking more precious seconds. The window opens when I undo the catch. Thank the fuck for that.

  Frank is there watching out for me, and has the ladder against the window frame in no time. The girl slumps against me. Fuck! I hold her over my shoulder and we're out of that window and onto the ladder and down in ten seconds, the adrenaline pumping through my body.

  The kids from the party crowd around.

  “Give her some space,” I tell them, pulling off my mask and they move back, contrite, concern all over their faces.

  “The ambulance is on it's way, should be here in less than a minute” Frank says. “Everyone is accounted for now. Don't worry. We got this.” And he moves the crowd even farther back.

  I catch my breath. The hose is still dowsing the house trying to stop the whole thing from going up in flames, but the building is made of wood, picturesque but fucking lethal in a fire. I watch as the front of the house furthest away from where we got out collapses just as the flames are finally extinguished. Fuck! That was close!

  The girl opens her eyes. “Lady you're lucky you got out alive. You and me both. Didn't you hear what was going on?” The girl looks mortified. Her big eyes looking back at me, a mixture of blue and green, grime and ash dusting her pale skin and long blond hair. For a second my heart lurches and the words are out before I think about it. “If you were mine, you'd pay for doing something so stupid. What were you thinking, drinking so much?”

  For a moment I imagine taking her over my knee but she doesn't answer me. She just pukes all over my fire retardant pants before a couple of guys from the ambulance crew take her away.

  CHAPTER 3

  Olivia

  Jed must be getting back from Europe soon but I try not to let myself think about him, what a good time he's having and with who. I don't really care anymore. I know I nearly died the night of the fire. I keep reliving it. The way I didn't notice the signs. A fucking fire breaks out and I don't notice. And then that guy. That big burly fireman carrying me out of the bathroom when I froze, my legs refusing to move in fear, the strength of him, the relief when I open my eyes and find I'm out in the fresh air, the night sky above and the rage in his dark eyes as he yelled at me. Then to throw up on him. How gross is that?

  I wanted to apologize and thank him when I got out of the hospital. I wasn’t there long, just overnight for observation. There was no real damage done from the smoke before he got me out. It could have been so much worse. But the thought of that night, how angry he was, how attractive he was, keeps me from doing anything about contacting the fire service and trying to track him down until it's too damn late.

  He's in my dreams though. Dreams where I don't vomit on him. I'm just a little dusted with ash and dust and he rips off his helmet and kisses me, holding me in those strong arms, oblivious to everyone standing around from the party or his fireman buddies. I haven't been drinking in those dreams and he doesn't tell me off. No, these dreams have a completely different ending to stone cold reality and usually result in me with my hand in my panties, or my pillow between my legs and a delicious orgasm. It's about the only good thing going in my life just now. Those dreams and my painting.

  My parents are out most of the day, making money. It's what they do and what they want for my future. They want me tied to working in finance or law or something like it for the next fifty years. They love their work. I'm not knocking it. They've done well and loads of people would give their right arm for a career like that. But it's just not for me. I'll do college. I'll get a degree if they want but I'm not doing that. They can forget it. So every spare moment I'm painting and trying not to think of the wreck of my social life.

  Holly is with Ben. They started dating right after the night of the fire. I suppose it brought them together, going through an experience like that. But I know she feels bad it started the night Jed finished with me. It's not her fault. It's just awkward and it'll be worse once Jed comes back and Ben and Jed want to hang out together all the time.

  So my parents are at work an
d I'm mooching around. I'm supposed to cut the grass front and back today and like they say “pull my weight around here” and I'm wondering if I can be bothered. It's too hot. Too hot for anything other than shorts and a T-shirt. And even they are sticking to me. But I drag the lawn mower out anyway.

  There's a car out front—a red VW old Beetle thing. It's filthy with dust. Where did that car spring from? None of the neighbors has a red wreck of a car like that. Before I know it my fingers are brushing over the hot metal. I could have just written “CLEAN ME” like most people would who are tempted to draw in the dust, but with a few strokes of my finger, there's a cat on the surface. I look at it, pleased with my finished masterpiece and get on with mowing the front lawn. By the time I've finished at the front of the house and cut the grass in the back yard too, the car has gone. I wonder if the owners appreciated my work of art.

  I grab a glass of ice cold soda and my sketch pad. Bon Jovi blasting out will put me in a good mood for making some initial sketches of things I can paint later. Though I'm running out of new things to paint at home, I'm trying to develop a style and I haven't found it yet. I'm still experimenting with techniques I recognize from well-known artists, trying to make something new from something familiar.

  But then the doorbell rings. What the hell now? Probably my mother has been ordering more clothes as if her closet wasn't stuffed enough already. My mother doesn't shop like a normal person. She doesn't try a few things on in a store or order something off the Internet. She orders an entire freaking wardrobe several times a year. “This,” she says, “is what money can buy you.”

  “I'm happy in my shorts and T-shirt,” I want to tell her but she would only roll her eyes or give me another lecture.

  I open the door expecting to sign for something and I even hold out my hand to grab a parcel but I stop mid-track because it's not a delivery as I expected. It's him. The man in my dreams. Come to take me away from all this? No, of course not. What does he want? He's scowling again. Does the man ever smile?