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Fire Wolf
Anh Leod
Divorcee Olivia has had her eye on much younger firefighter Smokie Monahan. She propositions him, never realizing he’s had it bad for her since he first saw her luscious bod in a bikini a decade before. She plans a brief, hot, sexy encounter at the firehouse—in, out, done. But that quickly turns into a series of lusty hook-ups that neither can resist.
Smokie is a wolf shapeshifter, so he knows the scorching sex with a human isn’t going to lead to anything more. Besides, Olivia insists it’s just a fling—no more relationships for her. Then a mystical seer declares they are true mates.
Smokie thinks he’s too young to settle down and Olivia thinks hot sex does not equal love. These two are about to discover just how pleasurable being stuck with each other for life can be.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Fire Wolf
ISBN 9781419934780
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Fire Wolf Copyright © 2011 Anh Leod
Edited by Pamela Campbell
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication June 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Fire Wolf
Anh Leod
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Rihanna: Roraj Trade, LLC
Chapter One
“Wanna fuck?”
The sultry voice behind Smokie Monahan sure didn’t sound like any of his coworkers. No women worked in the Ladder Company One firehouse. That word, “fuck”, jolted him from contemplation of a new forty-eight-inch, flat-screen television. His cock jerked too as blood moved south. Had the newly outfitted breakroom been redecorated just for his pleasure? He had noted the new lock on the inside of the door.
Olivia Bilson posed in the doorway as he turned to check out the body belonging to the voice. Hot damn. He’d had a hard-on for Olivia since he’d first seen her in a bikini when he was fourteen. She’d been in her mid-twenties then, he guessed, but the last ten years hadn’t dimmed her special brand of high-octane sexy.
She wore a gray pencil skirt that outlined her full hips and slim legs. A fitted black jacket didn’t cover all the plunging cleavage her yellow silk blouse displayed to perfection. Her breasts were still high and rounded on top, like melons.
His palms began to itch.
“Excuse me?” Had he really heard her correctly?
Olivia glided forward, opened her closed fingers and tossed something on the coffee table. “Roll the dice, fireman.”
He glanced down and saw a pair of dice. Not ordinary dice though. Sex dice. He grinned. If he wasn’t dreaming this, his morning had just hit the red zone. The top of one die ordered him to lick and the other said kiss.
“Someone could come in.” He stomped his foot and felt the reverberation through his lower leg. Felt real. Not a dream at all.
Olivia slinked back to the door and pushed it until the lock clicked then turned the bolt. Ambient noise from outside stilled.
All Smokie could hear now was the sound of his own breath. Too bad the dice didn’t order him to wag because if he had a tail in this form that’s what it would do. Or burn which was the state of his blood right now.
“The door is locked.” She smiled.
He licked his lips.
She glanced at the dice. “I don’t think you’re supposed to lick yourself.”
“Involuntary reaction.” His voice was a mere croak.
Her lips curved. “Is it hot in here?” Her hips swayed from side to side as she moved toward a water dispenser and took a cup.
“It’s July. You’re overdressed.”
The plastic bottle did its glug-glug thing as her cup filled. She placed her lips on its rim. Smokie watched her neck as she swallowed, imagined the water was his cum riding down her throat. He felt a drop of pre-cum dampening his shorts.
“Just came from a meeting,” she said. “So thirsty.”
Back when he was fourteen, he could never have imagined, wasn’t even capable of the complex emotions this situation gave him.
Sex in the firehouse wasn’t unusual. Firefighters liked to blow off steam. Hell, he’d even participated a time or two, but not with the likes of Olivia Bilson. She was no hose bunny.
“Olivia, what are you doing here?”
She set a languid hand on her hip. Her dark brown eyes were intent on his. “Isn’t it obvious?” She blew him a kiss. “There, you’ve licked and I’ve kissed. Now roll the dice.”
He grabbed her cup, tossed the contents down his throat and threw it behind him.
Olivia’s eyebrows rose as it bounced off the wall directly above an open garbage can and dropped inside. “That can needs a lid.”
“What are you, an interior decorator?” Confused, but unwilling to back down, he grabbed the dice and dropped them on the table. They spun for a moment on the new, slick surface.
The dice stopped—touch, taste.
I’m a dead man.
“I like those orders,” she purred, running her fingernail along the frayed collar of his T-shirt.
He’d showered after his shift and changed to comfortable clothes, had planned to go home as soon as he’d checked out the refurbished room. She stroked her fingers up his neck, rasping the day’s growth of beard. He forgot any plans he’d made for the rest of the day.
“I guess you did the touching so I’ve got to do the tasting,” he said.
“Mmmm,” was Olivia’s only response.
He bent to nuzzle her fragrant hair. It smelled of coconut and lemons, but the dice hadn’t ordered him to smell. Still, he couldn’t avoid it, and even in his human form his sense of smell was very strong.
His breath caught in his throat when he smelled another scent. Arousal. Female arousal. Her arousal.
“You want me.”
She tilted her head up. “Is that an accusation, a statement or an order?”
Her expression was neutral. He had no idea what she was thinking.
“A thought,” he said, not wanting to explain how he could smell the cream coating her pussy lips. How he wanted to dive between her legs right now, touch her bush, taste her lips, impale her with his tongue.
Hell, that was tasting, right? Twisting her game to his desire, he went to his knees and yanked her skirt up to her waist.
“This is what you want, right?” He stared up at her.
She found the edge of a red leather sofa with her fine-boned hand and held on, saying nothing. He noticed the lack of panties under her skirt and his cock came fie
rcely to attention.
Her stance widened and he growled with satisfaction at the sight of the honey brown hair curling between her legs. No wonder she smelled so good. The tips were damp with her excitement.
If he’d known this lush treasure hid beneath her bikini bottom a decade ago he might not have been able to keep his hands off her, even at fourteen. He’d been an early bloomer. With a savage moan, he spread her dripping labia and speared her with his tongue.
Her entire body arched back, pushing her naked pelvis into his face. He took full advantage, grateful he’d fast-forwarded this seduction she’d planned.
“Taste me,” she gasped.
He wouldn’t take orders from her. His tongue leisurely explored the contours of her tight sheath before he licked the opening then travelled north toward her clit, meandering with nips along her labia.
Her body rocked with fine tremors. She was close to coming already, he knew. Damn, how long had it been for her?
He licked a tiny circle around her clit and considered sucking, but she’d explode, and his instructions had only been to taste. Damning the game, he pulled back and got off his knees.
“Why?” she asked.
He pointed. “Roll the dice, Olivia.”
She swallowed hard and turned to the table. He resisted the urge to palm her ass, to slam his cock between her truly excellent cheeks. He heard a clink on the table as the dice rolled.
“It says ‘bite’ and ‘pinch’.”
“Your turn.”
She slid her arm around his waist and pulled close against him. The fabric of her bunched skirt kept them at a slight distance.
“Why don’t you get naked?” he suggested.
“You first.” She lifted the hem of his T-shirt.
“No, my idea.”
She stayed still for a moment then slid her jacket off her shoulders. He pushed the sleeves down her arms and let the garment drop to the floor. Her breasts pushed against the yellow silk, her nipples clearly outlined against the thin fabric.
“Pinch.” He knew what he would do when it came his turn.
“Bite,” she said.
For a moment he considered the bite—the wolf bite—but she wasn’t like him. She was human. At least he was pretty sure. She smelled human, though her floral perfume might be blocking his senses.
She pushed up the sleeve of his shirt and nipped at the tattoo there, the one that read Óêõëß under the image of a snarling wolf-dog.
“Cute.”She nipped again.
He’d never thought of the Brotherhood emblem as cute before. “My turn.”
He hooked a diamond-hard fingernail under the edge of her collar. It ripped the sunny silk down the front.
She exhaled sharply, but didn’t protest.
He growled in satisfaction when he saw her bra had a front closure. He flicked it open and saw small, round breasts, capped by long brown nipples. “Gorgeous.” Resisting the urge to taste, he took one in his fingers and tweaked it. “No sound?”
She shuddered.
He found the other nipple and squeezed. “Still nothing?”
She bit her lip.
“You know what the dice said.” He took one nipple in each hand and pinched. Hard.
Her head fell back and he smelled cream leaking from her pussy.
“Damn,” she groaned. “Do it again.”
He pinched even harder that time, adding a twist. When he let go, he saw her nipples had engorged, reddened. Beautiful. “You should pierce them, display them. So perfect.”
Breathing hard, she gazed at him. “Fuck me, Smokie. Now. No second thoughts.”
He smiled. “The dice haven’t rolled that way yet, sweetheart.” He crouched, letting his lips slide down her shoulder as he found the dice and tossed them.
“‘Kiss’ again,” she reported. “‘Nibble’.”
“Getting repetitive,” he muttered, finding her lips and sealing them with his own.
Her tongue entered his mouth immediately and he tangled his tongue with hers. He nibbled at it and she moaned around him. Without losing their liplock, he found the dice and rolled them.
“Thank God,” she cried, when she saw the dice. Love. Linger.
“What do you want me to linger on?” Smokie asked.
“The orgasm part,” she said, reaching for the elastic band of his orange sweatpants.
He ripped the remnants of her clothing off her upper body as soon as she’d freed his cock.
“You made me wait when you were sporting that beautiful, thick erection under there?” she asked when she’d removed the sweats.
“Every time you touched me, it got even bigger,” he said, pulling her onto the couch.
“Wait.”
In a sudden move, she dropped to the floor on all fours and began frantically rubbing at the floor with her hands.
“What’s wrong?” Had she lost a contact lens?
“The condom was in my bra. It must have dropped.”
He left the couch and crouched next to her, soon spotting the foil packet under the sofa. Reaching for it, he said, “Don’t move.”
“I’ll sheath you,” she protested, raising one arm.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “You’re perfect just like that.” When he had the condom rolled on his cock, he positioned himself behind her perfect ass.
“Seriously?” she asked, rubbing her ass cheeks against his thigh.
“Mmmm, floor sex.” He put his hands to her waist and tugged her back then stuck his thigh between her legs, forcing her to widen further. Her hot, sexy smell invaded his nostrils and he couldn’t resist running his fingers up her inner thighs, collecting moisture, before he touched them to his lips. “You taste like the nectar of the gods.” But he couldn’t wait any longer and covered her with his body, finding her dripping channel with his cock. “Ready?”
“Please,” she begged, pressing herself against the flared head even before he could press into her, rocking them together one inch at a time.
They both groaned as his cock stretched her pussy to its limit. His sac quivered against her as he seated himself.
She swore and nearly collapsed them to the floor when she lifted one of her hands.
“What are you doing?”
“My clit,” she gasped. “I need contact to come.”
“I’ll touch you.” He reached around her thigh to find her hot little nub, already fully out of its cover.
She moaned when he slid his fingers around the slick surface and clenched her inner muscles around his cock. He set a fast rhythm since it was obvious she’d accept nothing else.
The woman rocked like a wildcat in heat. She reared back after a few moments, sliding his cock into an entirely new level of depth. In his new position, Smokie noticed another change in the room. The decorator had hung a floor-length mirror on one of the breakroom walls. He watched her eyelids flutter shut. Her fingers found her distended nipples and played with them. Curly honey-brown tendrils floated around her cheeks where they’d come loose from her ponytail.
He’d never seen anything so beautiful, found a cunt that fit him so well. Sex in front of a mirror was new to him and he watched his fingers circle her clit with appreciation. She was a beautiful woman, especially with his cock working in and out of her cunt.
Her eyes opened and she gasped. “Forgot the mirror.”
“Sweet, huh? A regular orgy palace.” He tweaked her clit, watched her shudder against him.
She bent forward, was back on all fours, slamming against him with abandon. He pressed his palm against her clit and put one foot on the floor so he could thrust harder. A tingle in his balls told him he was close.
“What do you need to come?” he asked urgently.
“Keep fucking me,” she said. “Fuck me and fuck me and fuck me.”
“Like that?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her breasts, pulling her up and slamming himself against her body.
He thrust again and again, blind and deaf to his surroundi
ngs. She enveloped him, half-smothering him with her thick hair. He forgot to breathe, focused on nothing but the feeling of her tight sheath holding him, squeezing him.
“Okay, okay,” she gasped.
He found her clit again and started to rub. She jerked hard against him, widened her thighs. He fell against her, pushing her torso to the floor, distantly hearing her scream of completion as he jettisoned his cum into the condom.
“Wow,” she said, her cheek against the tile. “We came so hard I couldn’t breathe there for a second.”
Grinning, he carefully extracted himself and the condom. He might be younger than she was, but he knew enough to give her a good fuck. “Give me a few and I’ll show you an even better time.”
She rolled over and stretched lazily, showing about as much consciousness of her naked body as a member of his wolf clan. Could she be? He wondered for a moment. No. She smelled human, and besides, she’d be allied with a clan if she was like him.
He watched her fingers drift to her nipples and begin to pluck at them. Her eyes opened and a dreamy smile drifted over her face as she found his gaze.
“You’ve still got it,” he told her. “Near stranger to lover in less than twenty minutes.”
“Mmmm. I’m glad I stopped by.”
He looked down. “The hell with a few minutes, you’ve already got me hard again, you witch.”
Banging at the breakroom door alerted him to the presence of others in the firehouse. Somehow, Olivia had made him forget all about his coworkers.
“Dude, c’mon! The game’s about to start!” shouted another of the firefighters.
“I guess that’s our cue,” Olivia said ruefully.
“Sorry. They’ll just break the door down if I tell them to leave. That new big-screen TV is calling.”
He gathered what was left of her clothes and handed them to her then grabbed his sweats and hopped into them while trying to remember which of the new cabinets held Ladder Company One T-shirts. When he found one, he handed it to her. “Sorry I ripped your shirt.”