Page 3 of Her Older Fireman

Chapter 2

Gabe

I must be an idiot.

Because only an idiot would fail to notice the curvy knockout next door, with coppery red hair, creamy skin, plush pink lips, and sparkling green eyes. Like some kind of Irish goddess from my dreams, and she’s been under my nose this whole time without me knowing.

I’ve been a firefighter for a long time and I pride myself on my professionalism, but fuck if my dick didn’t go hard as a rock when I saw those long legs and thick thighs stretching down underneath her little shorts. I had to take a deep breath and will my cock to lay down and behave while I made sure Maddie was okay.

The rest of my shift is quiet, and I wind up just catching up on some work at my desk at the firehouse before I pack up and head home. As I pull into my driveway, I crane my neck and see some faint lights coming from inside the little trailer on the other side of the fence. I bought this place when I was younger and didn’t care that my yard backed up to a trailer park. Now, it seems I’m living in exactly the right spot as I try to spy on my sexy neighbor.

There’s another car there, and I see shadowy silhouettes moving from behind the blinds. I want—no, need to see her again, but it’s late, and I’ll have to try another day.

“Hey, Bruce,” I say to my big brown rescue mutt as I open the door to find him waiting for me. I toss my keys onto the counter and toe off my thick shitkicker boots, sighing with relief. Bruce plops himself down next to the bin of dry dog food and grouses at me.

“Yeah, yeah, buddy. I’m on it.” I open the sealed bin and dump a measured scoop of kibble into his waiting bowl and grab his water dish to fill it. “I see where your priorities are.”

Yawning, I scrub a hand over my face and head for the bathroom, where I turn on the shower, stripping off all my clothes while the water heats up. My still-hard dick bobs as I step under the hot spray and I wrap my fist around it, pumping gently while I imagine what it might feel like to slide those little shorts down her legs and tease her clit with my tongue. Her loose t-shirt couldn’t hide the generous swell of her breasts or the curve of her hips and ass, and my cock just gets harder as I think about tracing the lines of her body with my eager fingers and lips.

Even in my big hands, my thick dick looks enormous, and if I ever get a shot with Maddie, I’ll have to start slow and easy to get her ready for me. My whole body tenses up and my breath comes in harsh pants as I work my cock furiously, thinking about all the ways I could warm her up before I slide into her slick channel.

I come with a harsh groan and breathe hard as I brace my palm against the tiled shower wall. I won’t be able to get this girl out of my head, I realize. And I don’t want to—not at all.

A few minutes later, dressed in an old firehouse t-shirt and loose shorts, I grab an ice-cold beer from the fridge and open the back door. Bruce goes flying out into the backyard and I step out behind him, enjoying the feel of the cool evening air on my shower-hot skin. Bruce disappears into my big backyard to go do his business, and I walk out into the grass to look at my vegetable garden.

Which, coincidentally, happens to be close to the fence that I share with Maddie.

As I bend down and yank at a few stray weeds sprouting up between my tomato plants, I hear a screen door slam and the soft slap of sandaled feet against the wooden porch. A female voice—Maddie’s, I think—sighs, and my belly tightens.

I walk over to my fence and peer over the top. There she is, hands on her hips as she stares out into the night. Still in those sexy little shorts.

“Evening, neighbor,” I say. She starts and wheels around in my direction.

“Gabe?” she says. She takes a few steps toward the fence.

I’m absurdly pleased that she remembers my name and I smile into the darkness. “Yup. How are you doing? Any more trouble breathing?”

She laughs. “I’m okay. Throat’s a little sore, but I think I’ll make it.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” I say. “Really.”

“Easy for you to say.” She moves closer to the fence, until we’re just a couple of feet apart. “You're not the one who choked on a nacho and then had to call 911.”

“We never have to talk about it again if you don’t want to,” I say. “Let’s talk about you instead.”

“Me?” She sounds bemused. “What do you want to know?”

Everything, I think desperately. “Well, I know that you’re a twenty-two year old woman named Maddie O’Malley because that’s what you told us when we came on the call today. What do you do, Maddie? Who are you?”

She breathes deeply, and when she speaks again, she sounds thoughtful. “I’m majoring in political science at Fairview College and I work at Koffee Karma—you know, the coffee shop? And I want to go to law school. I want to move out of my mom’s place.”

“College and a job, huh?” I say. “How much longer do you have to go?”

“Another year, I hope,” she says. “And hopefully, I can afford all the test prep and application fees and everything I need to get into a good law school. I’ve always wanted to really be somebody, you know?”

You are somebody, I want to tell her, but I don’t say anything as she steps closer, until we’re just inches apart on either side of the fence. Looking down into her face, I realize that behind the sparkling beauty and the intelligence that flares in those bright green eyes, there’s something else.

Exhaustion. Some sadness.

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