Stake Dolan has worked as a firefighter for almost a decade. He knows he’s loud, brash, and occasionally abrasive, not that he tries to be. Sometimes, he just blurts stuff out without thinking. His thoughtless words get him in trouble, and the chief orders him to help with the clean-up of some of the local hiking trailheads. At one of them, Dolan meets Cecil Rochette. The friendly man makes a pass at him, but Dolan quickly shuts him down. A few of his fellow firefighters are gay, but he is not. Still, while he doesn’t know why, there’s something about the guy that arouses him. When Cecil keeps popping up in his path, interrupting his life, he begins to wonder what it’d be like to give in to the mischievous man’s advances. Will doing something so different be worth the price, especially when no one has been able to tolerate his mouth for long?
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“Hey there,” a deep voice greeted, pulling Dolan’s attention away from his sandwich and onto the man who’d settled across the picnic bench from him. “I’m Cecil. Cecil Rochette. You’re one of the volunteer firefighters. Right?”
Sweeping his gaze over the stranger, Dolan took in his offered hand, the charming smile, and the speculative gleam in his brown eyes. He actually felt as if this man were checking him out.
Surely that couldn’t be right.
That didn’t stop his body from warming under the man’s gaze…as if he wasn’t overheated from work as it was.
Weird.
After wiping his hands on a napkin, Dolan reached out and took Cecil’s hand. Wrapping the other man’s more slender fingers in his own, he felt an odd tingle creep across his skin. He pulled his hand back in reaction.
“I’m Stake Dolan,” he told Cecil, suddenly feeling wary. “Firefighter. Yeah. But I didn’t really volunteer,” he admitted. “I, uh, I got volunteered, I guess you could say.”
“Someone else volunteer you, huh?” Cecil responded with a grin. “How’d that happen? Girlfriend or wife do that?”
Was the guy fishing? It certainly seemed that way.
Focusing on his food, Dolan opened his bag of chips. He pulled one out of the bag, then popped it into his mouth. Next, he opened his Gatorade and took a long swallow.
“Damn, that’s good,” Dolan muttered. He took another swig. “Guess I’m a little dehydrated.” He could actually feel the chilled fluid sliding down his throat. Of course, that also meant his tooth throbbed from the cold liquid hitting it, too. Grimacing, he pressed his knuckles to his jaw. “Shit.”
“Tooth sensitivity?” Cecil asked, sounding concerned. “Want me to take a look?” He leaned closer, as if he were going to do just that.
“Yeah,” Dolan responded. “I mean, no.”
The right side of Cecil’s mouth curved into a wry smile. “So, which is it? Yes or no?” He rested his forearms on the table, bracketing his own food, and added, “I know what I’m doing. I’m a dentist’s assistant.”
“I mean, yeah, my tooth hurts,” Dolan explained, waving away the guy’s concern. “I have a dentist appointment tomorrow, so I’ll be fine.” Seeing the man lift a brow in obvious challenge as he straightened in his seat, Dolan cleared his throat. “Don’t worry about it.”
Dolan took a bite of his sandwich so he didn’t have to say anything else.
“Okay, then answer my other question, fire stud,” Cecil urged brazenly. He doctored his own sandwich with mustard and mayonnaise, then reached across the table and picked up Dolan’s half used packet. “You mind?”
His mind still reeling from the stud comment, Dolan shook his head.
Cecil squeezed the last dollop of mayonnaise out of the packet as he pressed, “Who volunteered you?”
“My chief,” Dolan blurted out, his mouth still half full. He felt his face heat with embarrassment that he didn’t understand as he quickly swallowed. “At the fire station.”
Nodding as he swallowed a bite of his own sandwich, Cecil hummed. “So, ya’ll had a quota to fill or something? A required number of bodies promised?”
Dolan snorted, shaking his head. “No, I—” He paused and frowned at his sandwich. Putting it down, he ate a chip instead, followed by another swig of fruit punch flavored drink. “I have a problem with, uh, I’ve been told I don’t have a brain to mouth filter. I just blurt shit out, and it’s normally the wrong thing to say. I said something I shouldn’t and this is part of my, uh, punishment.”
Holy shit! Why did I just admit all that to a total stranger?
Cecil didn’t appear concerned in any way by his pronouncement. Instead, he nodded once before stating, “Okay. Does that mean there’s no wife or girlfriend waiting at home for you?”
Confused, Dolan immediately shook his head. “No, I—what?”
Heat lit up Cecil’s dark eyes, making them gleam. “Good. After we’re done here, you wanna go back to my place and fuck? I have a hot tub.”
Gaping, his sandwich halfway to his mouth, Dolan froze. A few seconds later, he managed to snap his mouth shut. “A-Are you propositioning me?”
“Yep,” Cecil responded, completely unrepentant. “I wanna fuck you, fire stud. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve seen on two legs in decades.” He reached over, fished a chip from Dolan’s bag, then popped it into his mouth as he winked at him.
“B-But I’m not gay,” Dolan claimed even as he felt a trickle of warmth slither through his veins. “I mean.” He blushed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just…not.”
Cecil smirked as he picked up his sandwich. “Oh, Stake,” he rumbled, his tone turning husky. “You don’t have to be gay to enjoy a good fuck.” His smile turned feral. “And I am a great fuck. I will rock your fucking world. You’ll never know what hit your ass.” As he spoke, Cecil’s voice lowered until he spoke in a husky whisper. “You’ll love every second of my cock in your ass and beg for me to do it over and over again.”
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