HEAT: A steamy firefighter romance boxed set Read online

  HEAT

  A Steamy Firefighter Romance Boxed Set

  MY FILTHY FIREMAN

  CAUGHT BY THE FIREMAN

  MY FIRST TIME FIREMAN

  Mia Madison

  Copyright © 2018 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 some scenes and language only suitable for mature readers.

  CONTENTS

  MY FILTHY FIREMAN

  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

  CAUGHT BY THE FIREMAN

  PROLOGUE

  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

  EPILOGUE

  MY FIRST TIME FIREMAN

  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

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  Olivia

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

  I can tell Holly is surprised at me, because I’ve always been hesitant about it. 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 is already in full swing—a typical end of school, going away for the summer party, with dim lights from candles dotted around the room, couples making out in the corners, and music so loud the neighbors are bound to complain at some point. I’m hoping the drink will calm my nerves. After the weekend, I won’t see Jed for a month. 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. I guess 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 want 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 to 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 winks 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 pay for 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 the kind of things they think I should. I want to paint. But 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 the 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, and 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 home, 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.

  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?” I ask.

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

  But Jed has followed me in. He looks over at his friend and Holly, and he shrugs. “Be seeing you, then,” he says, and befo
re I know it, he’s left the party and me. He’s done what he came to do—break up with me. The one thing I thought was going right in my life 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, because 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 it’s better than standing alone like a spare part. They’re ribbing each other about something or other, and I just stand there in silence swallowing my drink, smiling in all the right places. When my glass is empty, someone gives me a refill.

  I’m not sure what’s in the drink exactly, but it’s going right to my head. The room is starting to sway a bit, or it could be me who’s unsteady on my feet. 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. Panic! I’m going to throw up in front of everyone, I know it. I make it up the stairs to the family bathroom without disgracing myself, 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!” Has a fight 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 feel almost too wretched to care, but I’m not totally out of it. I’ll stay here, well out of the way until they’ve stopped brawling down there. I hope Holly’s okay, and Ben looks after her. There’s quite a din, but the music is still blaring out, so it can’t be that bad. Should I go and make sure, though?

  But then suddenly, 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 is enough to experience that, but then I have to bend over the toilet again. This is the last time I’ll ever drink too much. I catch my breath and wipe my mouth, my heart 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 stupid 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? Before they know it, because they are too engrossed to realize it, the whole place is up in 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.

  Just as well this crowd had enough brain cells still functioning to call the fire department at the first lick of flames and get everyone out. But 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?”

  One 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.

  Hearing that, I put on the breathing apparatus in double-quick time, because there’s no time to lose to go find this girl.

  Jack has the hose uncoiled and has it trained on the lower level 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 throwing up. 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, handing 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, the acrid smoke might suffocate 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 nailed shut, I’ll have to smash it, taking more precious seconds, but the window opens when I undo the catch. Thank the fuck for that.

  Frank is there watching out for me, and he has the ladder against the window frame in no time. The girl slumps against me. Damnit! I haul her over my shoulder, and we’re out of the window, 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 its 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 lethal in a fire. I watch as the front part of the house, the side away from where we got out, collapses in on itself. 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?” She looks mortified, her big eyes looking back at me. Grime and ash dust 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, or what a good time he’s having and the girls he’s meeting. I don’t really care anymore.

  I know I nearly died the night of the fire. I keep reliving it.

  How could I not have noticed the signs? A freaking fire breaks out, and I don’t even notice! It makes my blood run cold to think what the outcome might have been.

  And I also can’t forget the big, burly fireman who carried me out of the bathroom when I froze, my legs refusing to move in fear. I remember the strength of him, and the relief when I opened my eyes to find I was out in the fre
sh air, as well as the rage in his dark eyes as he yelled at me. And then I threw up on him. How gross is that?

  When I got out of the hospital, I wanted to apologize and tell him how grateful was. I wasn’t there long, just overnight for observation. Thanks to him, 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 hot, keeps me from doing anything about contacting the fire station 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 delicately coated with a little 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 firemen 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. Those dreams are about the only good thing going in my life just now. Along with painting.

  My parents are out most of the day, summer or winter, making money. It’s what they do, and what they want for my future. They want me tied down to long hours working in finance or law or something like it for the next fifty years.

  It’s all right for them, because 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 there’s no way I want their kind of job. They can forget it. So every spare moment of the summer break, 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 guess it brought them together, going through an experience like that. But I know she feels bad it started the night Jed broke up with me. It’s not her fault, but it’ll be worse once Jed comes back and Ben and Jed want to hang out together all the time.