I straighten my clothes and make my way to the main door. It’s locked, of course, but there’s a lighted red buzzer to the left that says PUSH HERE FOR ASSISTANCE. So I do.

Within a few seconds, I see a shadow through the frosted glass. It appears at the top of some steps. After a few seconds, I see it move lower, coming down the stairs.

My stomach twists into a sick knot.

Just before I can bolt, the door opens. And Jake is standing there. Smiling.

“Damn if you’re not a sight for sore eyes! Did you know I was leaving?”

I stare at him, gape-mouthed, for a few seconds. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Ronnie just came in to relieve me. He wanted the overtime. I was heading home.”

“Oh, well in that case . . .” I say, feeling like a complete idiot. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

I start to turn away, but he grabs my upper arm. “Hold on, what’s this?” he asks.

It takes me a minute to figure out what he’s referring to. “Oh, it’s, uh, it’s peach wine. From your house.”

“You brought wine? To a fire station?”

His grin isn’t meant to make me feel small. No, I’m managing that quite well on my own.

I dig out the strong woman, the person in control, from way down deep. I’m not sure how much she’s ever in control, but at least she puts on a good front. “I guess that was pretty silly. It was an impulsive thing. I was bored. And I thought it would be nice to share a little of your hard work.”

Jake takes the bottle from my hand then wraps his fingers around mine and pulls me inside. “See, it would be a crying shame for such a gesture to be wasted. Let me show you around, and then we’ll get into this wine the right way.”

I don’t ask what that means. I simply go along, silently. I’ve already made enough of a fool of myself for one night. Best to just keep the mouth shut and hope I don’t make matters worse.

We ascend a set of grated steps painted an austere yet spotless pale gray. At the top are two doors, also painted a drab gray. Jake takes me through the first one. It opens onto a long hall with doors on either side. “This is where the living quarters are, as well as the office.”

I nod, looking around. “Everything is very clean. And . . . gray.”

We pass a couple of doors, both shut, both clearly marked who they belong to. The third door has a window in it. A blast of mouthwatering air hits me in the face when Jake opens it.

I peek around his shoulder to see three guys sitting at a round table pushed off to one side of the combo room. Opposite the table is a small kitchen, in front of that is a pool table, and in front of that is a couch and two chairs, all facing a television.

“Hey, I’m gonna take a friend of mine for a quick tour before I go. See you dicks in a few days.”

Three heads turn toward the door, eyeing me curiously. “You sure you don’t wanna hang around?” This from a thirties-looking short guy.

“With you apes? Nah, I think I’m good.”

“I meant her, dumbass. ’Course, if you’re afraid I’d steal her from you, I’d understand.”

“She’s not a lesbian, Johnson,” Jake says acerbically. “Oh wait, you’re supposed to be a dude, right?”

The other two start laughing, and Johnson just shakes his head. “That’s just wrong, man,” he says woefully. The others laugh that much harder.

Without another word, Jake, grinning, backs me out the door, and we continue down the hall.

“Seems like you’re all getting along well.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good guys.”

We pass two open doors, one on either side of the hall. Jake pauses, and I scan the insides. Both rooms are identical.

“These are the sleeping quarters.”

There are two twin beds in each room. All four are made up with plain white sheets and depressing brown blankets. Very utilitarian.

“Not very homey,” I murmur.

“I’ll tell the guys to pick something flowery next time,” Jake teases.

“It’s not that. I just think they could’ve made the beds a little more appealing.”

“I know exactly what you could do to make my bed more ap-pealing.”

I slide my eyes over to Jake, where he’s looming at my side. He’s standing perfectly still, his chest brushing my shoulder. His honey gaze is fixed on me, and it’s scorching. There’s nothing lighthearted about him now. He’s all intensity and heat. Predatory.

Suddenly the hall seems narrow. The air has disappeared along with my ability to breathe it. I feel stalked. Ensnared, like helpless prey that can’t get away. Only, I’m not sure that I want to. And I think Jake knows that.

“What’s that?” I ask softly.

“Do you want me to describe it to you in graphic detail?” he asks.

I say nothing, only nod.

He steps forward.

Instinctively, I step back.

Again and again we do this—he steps forward, I step back—until I feel the press of the wall, firm against my spine. I have nowhere else to go. Nowhere else to run.

“You could let me watch you strip this little thing from your body,” he says, his breath fanning my cheek as he runs his finger back and forth under the thin strap of my top. “You could cup those perfect breasts of yours, pretending that it’s me, until your nipples are hard and your panties are wet.” He eases up closer to me, flattening me against the cool concrete blocks. He bends his knee, sliding it between mine. The denim of his jeans is rough against the bare skin of my thighs. “You could wiggle out of this tiny skirt and that damp cotton underneath, then go stand on the bed. With your high heels on. And nothing else.” He leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of my ear as he speaks. “Then you could whisper that you want to feel me inside you. My fingers. My tongue. My cock. That’s what you could do to make my bed more appealing.”

My heart is beating so loudly I can barely hear him. But I can hear enough.

He’s so close I can feel heat radiating from his body, warming my entire front. It pulls me to him, drawing me in. Drawing me closer.

After a few seconds, he pulls away. “Come on. Let me show you my pole.”

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Jake takes my hand and leads me on. Not into one of the rooms, but farther down the hall to another door.

He opens it and steps through. Blindly, anxiously, I follow.

It’s a small room with a thin shelf of catwalk around an open center, dominated by a shiny pole that disappears into the darkness below.

“Since you’re wearing a skirt and heels, I’ll go down with you so you don’t hurt yourself. I’d hate for you to tear the skin on those pretty thighs of yours,” he says, his eyes dropping to my legs. Instantly, they feel warm, as if he’d actually touched them.

And oh, how I wish he would. This heat, this anticipation is quickly becoming unbearable.

“Here, you hold this,” he says, tucking the wine bottle into the curve of my arm. I gasp when he grabs me around the waist and pulls me toward him, my legs slipping over one of his. With his eyes on mine, he gives me one quick squeeze, forcing me up on his thigh a little more. The friction is delicious. And wicked. “Can’t have you sliding down a metal pole in a skirt.”

Turning his body slightly, angling me toward his hip, Jake leans forward and grips the pole then swings carefully forward, holding me against his side. I clamp him with my legs as he lets us slide slowly down the pole.

When we reach the bottom, Jake whirls me around and presses my back to the pole. His lips are on mine. His tongue is in my mouth, teasing me, making me promises of unspoken delight.

The wine bottle vanishes and then my hands are free to grip his wide shoulders, delve into his thick, spiky hair. Hold him close. Pull him closer.

“Do you know how crazy you make me?” Jake whispers. I crack my lids to look at him. His eyes sparkle in the shadows. The only light is the dim cone that pours down on us from above. Everything else is pitch-black. “Coming in here with your shy smile and your sexy skirt. I bet you’re sweeter than that wine you brought. And damn you, tonight I’m gonna find out. Tonight, I’m gonna taste you.”

With a growl he takes my lips again, his hands roaming my sides, searing me through my clothes.

And then there’s nothing between his warm palms and my skin. I feel them gliding up the backs of my legs, slipping under the hem of my skirt, sinking into the flesh of my butt. He squeezes, pulling me tight against him, rubbing his hard length against me.

“Tell me I can taste you. Tell me you want me to. Right here. Right now.”

I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I can only feel. And I know I want more. I want all Jake can give me.

“Yes. I want you to taste me.” My voice is husky and breathless, even to my own ears. “Right now.”

Like taking a tiger off the leash, Jake becomes fierce. He drags his hands into my hair and tugs until it tumbles free around my shoulders. Then he’s kissing a hot trail down my throat. His hands are cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples through the thin material of my shirt, driving me crazy with want.

I feel his lips against my stomach. Then his tongue in my navel. His hands are under my skirt, then they’re on my thighs, nudging them apart.

Willingly, I spread them, leaning back against the pole for support, closing my eyes as I gasp for breath, aware of nothing more than Jake and what he makes me feel.

He presses his lips against me through my panties. All I can think is that I want more. I want it all.

I feel him push them to the side. And then his fingers are inside me, moving deep and slow.

I moan aloud.

“Shhh,” he whispers against me, causing my knees to nearly buckle. “Be quiet or they’ll hear you.”