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First Love Second Chance by Kira Blakely (154)

Chapter 7

Theo

Mason, Dillon, and I were silent as we drove back to the station. I could still feel Sarah’s hand in mine, ghost-like, yet so eager to cling onto me. She’d seemed so innocent, so lost, laying there naked on the grass. I’d wanted to keep her safe. To guard her. To ensure nothing bad like that ever happened to her again.

But it was outside of my jurisdiction, now.

“We need to make sure the girl’s family is located,” I said, shifting in my seat.

Mason chortled slightly. “You’re sweet on her, aren’t you, Theo?”

My nostrils flared. “It’s just, she could have died. Her folks need to know, is all.”

“They’ll contact them from the hospital, I’m sure,” Mason said, skirting the engine back into the station. He cut the engine, bringing silence to the interior. We could hear nothing but our deep breathing. “It ain’t a small town around here, Theo. That girl you just saved, you might never see her again. But she’ll appreciate what you’ve done for her the rest of her life. Mark my words.”

It’s true that I was still thinking of this disaster in small town terms. Had I been back home in Alabama, I might have known that girl, personally, since the age of eight. I might have known her mother, her father. I would have driven her directly to the hospital myself.

In this case, I had to give Sarah over to the proper authorities. I had to let her go.

The three of us sat in the fire engine for several minutes, inhaling, and counting our blessings. Dillon had mentioned, days before, that they hadn’t had a proper call in several months, nothing more than the occasional accident on the highway.

“It’s the heat. Must be,” Dillon affirmed then, shaking his head. “Got everyone acting crazy, it does. I can feel it in the air. The other day, left the tap on in the shower for over an hour. Almost overflowed the bathroom. We’re all out of our minds. That girl’s just like us.”

We left the engine and undressed, marking time. It was just after midnight, now, and a fresh crew was coming in to replace us. The chief was seated at the circular table near the kitchen, eager to shake our hands, and lent me a final pat on the back. “First time seeing action in Indiana. And I’m told you did spectacularly. Taking the girl out yourself. Your own personal damsel in distress. How about that.”

I shook his hand, standing a full five inches over the top of him, and then offered a soft smile. This was my new home. I had ripped myself through any potential bad dreams, out onto the other side. All so I could save that girl.

“Will we be told when the girl is all right?” I asked him, my voice firm.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to call my people at the hospital,” the chief said, shrugging. “But according to Mason, she was conscious and chatting when they took her in. I can’t imagine she’ll be anything other than right as rain.”

I thanked the team, shaking both Mason and Dillon’s hands, and then sauntered down the steps toward my pickup. I felt my muscles aching, perhaps just from the stress of the fire, of inhaling smoke. Certainly not from that waif-like creature I’d held in my arms. Cranking the truck down the street, I glanced around the city, at the bright lights of the high-rise buildings, the J.W. Marriott in the distance, along with the football stadium. This was a proper city, a place of possibilities. I wasn’t in Alabama anymore.

My future could be whatever I wanted it to be.

Once I arrived home, I collapsed on the front couch, grabbing a beer from the mini fridge below. Once I popped it, I took three long sips, before pulling the hospital number up on my phone and calling it. It was just after one in the morning, but I just needed to know. I needed someone to tell me.

Was she all right?

Had anything happened on the ride to the hospital?

Was she still able to breathe?

The emergency room answered. They connected me to a different area of the hospital, where the receptionist told me that—yes, a woman named Sarah Goldlein was admitted into the hospital, but no, she couldn’t tell me anything about her well-being.

“But well-being, in and of itself, means she’s alive,” I said. “You can at least tell me that, can’t you?”

“You said you were the firefighter who saved her life?” the woman said, sounding amused.

“That’s right.”

“Don’t you do this kind of stuff all the time?”

I paused for a long moment, wondering why this seemed different. Why I felt I needed affirmation, immediately, regarding Sarah’s health.

But the woman just chuckled for a few moments, sounding amused. “Honey, I’d just go to sleep if I were you. I heard it was quite a fire. And you need your rest more than most of us. Who knows what will happen on your next shift? Who might need you, then?”

I hung up, not wanting the conversation to drag on another moment. Cracking another beer, I guzzled it, allowing a soft buzz to take over my brain. I was growing obsessed, rattled, wanting only to wrap my arms around this girl and hold her tight. Outside, what was left of her house remained crumpled, a collection of bricks and broken pieces of black wood. She wouldn’t be coming back to live. There was nothing left to scavenge. She’d have to start over.

I fell asleep sometime later, stretched out in my boxers, shirt-less and sweating on the couch. In the morning, as the sun eased through the blinds, I abandoned it, taking up refuge in my bed, grateful not to have the familiar nightmares. Instead, Sarah Goldlein erupted into my dreams, slinking through them with that thin waist, those cresting breasts, and that soft, trusting smile.

When I awoke, my cock had thrust itself through the hole in my boxers, riding up against the comforter above. I stripped it from me, easing a hand against the stiffness of my member. The veins pulsed against the skin, and a small trickle of cum had begun its course down the staff.

If she wasn’t going to come to me, I would have to do it myself.

The doorbell rang, buzzing through my ears. I shot up, my eyes like saucers. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized it was just after five in the afternoon of the following day—over twelve hours since I’d called the hospital. Shoving my cock downward, I eased from the bed, shoving my fingers through my hair. My best guesses were: the chief, one of the other firemen, or my brother, Rob, who’d probably caught wind of the fire on the news and wanted to make sure I was okay.

He was usually good like that.

Shimmering sunlight blinded me as I entered the foyer, making me unable to view who was outside. Nabbing the pair of pants I’d left near the couch the night before, I pulled them on and buttoned them. My abs were a firm line above the button. I wouldn’t bother putting on a shirt. I didn’t have time to find a fresh one.

As I opened the door, I felt sure I was still in the dream. Standing there, poised and stunning, was Sarah Goldlein. She was wearing a slinky black dress, with a V-neck that shot all the way down between her breasts. Her nipples poked from the fabric, looking firm and pointed, just as I remembered them from the previous night. Her hair lay in soft curls down her shoulders and back, giving her an angelic appearance.

Really, though. Was I dreaming?

“Hi,” she began, her voice soft and lilting. “I hope you don’t mind that I just stopped by like this.”

I laughed slightly, easing my head against the doorframe. “Didn’t expect you.”

“I bet you’re wondering how I found out where you lived?” she asked.

“Sure.” I would play along with her game, if she wanted it so bad. Why not?

“Well, I called the station. That’s how, Theo,” she said, giggling. With a flash, she lifted a bottle of whiskey from behind her leg, revealing it like a present. “I’ve brought something for you. Like a present, if you will. For all you did for me last night.”

Already, the previous night felt like a million years ago. I accepted the gift, assessing her. Why had she dressed in such an alluring way, just to drop off a gift? Gesturing with my head, I said, “Why don’t you come in and have the first drink with me?”

I watched the effect on her. It was as if I’d stripped her, said something sexual. Her cheeks turned pink; her eyes blinked several times, lost in mine. And then she nodded, following me indoors and tucking the door closed behind her.

She was trapped with me, now. She had come, willingly, into my arena. And it wasn’t like I was going to let her leave without giving me what I wanted.

As we walked, she spoke—wanting to fill the gaps, the silence. She was anxious, a little girl. “I wanted to come here and thank you. I was trying to think of something, anything, you might want in return. But I don’t think the whiskey will ever be enough.”

We’d reached the kitchen. I lifted two glasses from the cabinet and filled each with two fingers’ worth of whiskey. It was barrel-aged, from Kentucky. We clinked our glasses together, and I noticed her hand was shaking. I watched, cat-eyed, as she sipped her first bit, gasping at the strength.

She would do anything I asked her to.

I knew that, now.

“Doctor checked you out all right?” I asked her, taking a step forward. I was pinning her into the corner, watching as she shuffled backward—trying to avoid my grip. Or perhaps she was just trying to drive me wild. The last light of the evening glittered against the white of her breasts, peeking over the black V-neck. I shivered, yearning to clasp my fingers around her nipples.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyelashes fluttering. “He gave me an inhaler, just in case. He said if I’d been in there another two minutes, he isn’t sure I would have made it…”

This struck me. Two minutes? That was such a minor difference. It was just a different speed in the fire engine. It was how quickly I’d cleared out of the engine, hooked up to the fire hydrant, and began to coat the kitchen with water.

But I couldn’t think about that now.

I moved forward, pressing my body along hers. She gazed into my eyes, her lower lip quivering. When she sensed this was what I wanted—all I wanted her to do—she placed her hands along my firm, muscled abdomen, then eased them down toward the bulge in my jeans.

I knew she’d never seen a cock like mine before. The minute she cracked open the button, unzipped the jeans, and revealed my massive staff, her expression changed from shock to sheer, unforeseen pleasure. She held its stiff thickness in her thin, milky hands, easing her fingers over the veins and causing a bright bit of cum to pulse from the end.

Gazing up into my eyes, she said something I’ll never forget. Never in all my life.

“You’re an animal. Fuck me as hard as you can.”

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