ControlledBurn (2 page)

Chapter Two

What the hell was he doing? Ellie didn’t need to know this.
What had been going down between him and special ops man Mitch Morelli was
nothing. Friendly bullshit between a captain and his fireman.

Even as he thought this, he recognized it for what it was. A
lie. The things he’d been thinking about Mitch were far from innocent. And
today…

“Talk to me, Pearce. We’ve always been able to discuss
what’s bothering us.”

He sat up and perched on the edge of the bed. “If I lie here
any longer, I’m going to fall asleep. I’m going to get some coffee.”

She hopped up, as filled with energy as she was at 6:00 a.m.
“All right. You get coffee. I’ll get wine.”

He moved his hand from his face in order to stare at her.
“Wine?” That would only incite her libido further. Surely she didn’t want more
after what he’d just done. Role-playing that she was being tag-teamed? Only a
sick-ass pervert would say what he had to his wife—his soul mate.

She sashayed around the bed to stand in front of him. He
couldn’t keep from putting his hands on her. She was his calm. The one thing
that kept him sane after he’d lost victims to car crashes and home fires.

But Mitch is a damn close second.

Shaking off this thought, Pearce pulled Ellie into his arms.
He buried his face between her soft breasts and inhaled her light vanilla
fragrance. The flavor of that edible lotion still lived on his tongue, and his
cock pulsed back to life as he was reminded of his bone-shattering orgasm.

A release he’d gained from fantasizing about fucking his
wife in tandem with Mitch Morelli.

Pearce gently eased her away from him and reached for his
underwear. “Coffee.”

“Wine.” Her dusky tone twitched through his mind even as she
swished her ass into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he had the coffee on to brew and Ellie
appeared with her robe belted loosely, flashing a thin strip of golden flesh.
In all their years together, he’d never hungered for anyone but her. Why now?
And why one of his best friends and his fellow fireman?

Because he’s hot as hell.

For weeks Mitch had been edging under his skin. Pointed
looks followed by flirting that could be construed as something tame. And
today, there had been an
encounter
. Seated in the buff in the sauna
after their shift, Mitch had caught him looking at his package, which was the
fucking hottest thing Pearce had seen besides his wife. At least eight inches
of cut male, with balls that hung in a perfect little pouch between his hard
thighs.

It had been impossible for Pearce to stop his reaction—his
cock lengthened, thickened and oozed pre-come. Then Mitch had shot him that
grin that sent his heart racing and, before he knew it, Mitch was fisting his
own cock, bronzed fingers pumping his shaft.

“Come on, Pearce. You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t
you? Seeing this?”
He’d spread the thick cream over the tip, making it
glisten. Pearce had physically fought with everything in his being to refrain
from licking his lips.

“You don’t have to touch me. Just touch yourself. It’s
normal. Two guys jacking off.”
Mitch’s baritone was pitched low, his eyes
hooded as he slid his cock through his fist.

Pearce shifted his weight to ease the ache in his groin.
Fuck, why had he done it? Not only had he watched his team member spurt rope
after rope of hot come across the sauna floor, but he’d two-fisted his cock
too, finding completion within seconds of Mitch.

His head filled with a buzzing even now.

Ellie was staring at him. She perched on a barstool, toned
legs crossed and a glass of wine in her hand as she gazed unwaveringly at him.
She ran a fingertip around the rim of her glass. “We can talk about whatever’s
got your cock as hard as steel or we can pretend you’re not gagging for it.”

Gagging for it was just about the best description anyone
had come up with yet—Ellie, Mitch or himself. Yeah, he wanted his coworker with
a lust that was animalistic. But Ellie was his entire world, and he’d never
risk losing her for a fling.

Would it be a fling?

He tamped down his thoughts and leaned against the bar,
hiding his erection. “Ellie, I’m sorry about the things I said while we were
making love. I shouldn’t have—”

“Why are you sorry? I mean, it was hot. It got us both off.
What’s the big deal?”

He issued a long sigh and met her turquoise gaze. Gods, her
eyes were beautiful. Round and as deep as the Caribbean Sea. He never wanted to
see darkness swimming in those lovely depths. He never wanted to put it there.

Yet he had to come clean with her. He owed her that.

“I said I knew where that little stream of consciousness had
come from.”

She nodded and her auburn waves tumbled over her shoulders,
dripping down to her full breasts. “Okay…”

“You know I had a short relationship with a man long ago,
right?”

She set her glass down. “Yes.”

“Well, lately I’ve been thinking about doing that again.
Being with a man. Not live as a gay man, but maybe explore…sexually.” He looked
up into her gaze and a fist of surprise caught him in the gut. His breath
whooshed from him.

Her eyes were narrowed in that lustful expression that
usually sent him over the edge when he was making love to her.

“You’re turned-on,” he said.

“Mmm-hmm. More than you can know.”

He took the plunge. “Ellie, earlier today something happened
between me and Mitch.”

She sat up straighter, interest sparking all over her lovely
face. “Mitch, the Italian stud at the firehouse?” She knew Mitch from various
gatherings—summer barbecues, Christmas dinners and even the Firemen Galas where
they danced long into the night for charity.

Pearce picked up on her choice of words. “You think he’s a
stud.”

“
You
do,” she said matter-of-factly, seeing too
deeply into him as always. There was no escaping it. She had to know
everything.

He came around the bar and drew her into his arms. “Today in
the sauna we jacked off together.”

She sucked in a breath and then blew it in a rush across his
chest. “Touching each other?”

“No, just mutual masturbation. But, Ellie, I wanted to touch
him. Hell, I wanted to drop to my knees and put my mouth on him.” His voice
came out strangled.

She pulled back enough to study his face. That scholarly
expression she always wore when puzzling something out for a hospital
administration meeting or a new budget plan came over her. A crinkle appeared
between her arching red-gold brows.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s wrong and it
can’t go any further. That’s why I shouldn’t have brought it into our bedroom,
even as a fantasy.”

“You want to bring Mitch in to fuck me?”

“Yes— No! Fuck, Ellie, you’re sending me off balance, and I
haven’t had more than twelve hours of sleep in four days.” He released her and
scrubbed his hands over his face, wishing he’d actually drunk some of the
coffee he’d poured himself.

“Listen, I can’t lay a hand on Mitch, even if I wanted to.
There are rules at the firehouse, and it would be grounds for termination if
such a thing got out. Besides, the other guys would be creeped out, thinking
I’m going to stalk them in the shower room. It’s not going to happen.”

“But it already did happen. You rubbed one off together and
crossed a boundary.”

Shit, yeah, they had, and it had been fucking amazing. The
hardest release he’d had in a long time. Watching the pleasure cross Mitch’s
face, seeing his body stiffen as his white cream spurted from his cock…

He grew harder.

Ellie slid a hand down his length through his underwear. He
met her gaze and let her see his struggle. Only to her would he reveal it,
because it needed to be locked up as soon as he left this house tomorrow
morning for his shift.

A shift with Morelli.

His wife leaned in and lapped his nipple with her little
pink tongue. He groaned.

Running her deft fingers around the rim of his swollen head,
she continued her assault on his nipple, plucking it with her teeth and
flicking her tongue over it. “Pearce…”

“Mmm?”

“I think you should explore your wants with Mitch. If it
brings pleasure to you both, why not?”

He went still. Cupping her face in his hands, he drew her
head up to look at him. “Would it bring you pleasure, Ellie?”

“Knowing you were getting off? Hell yes it does. It makes me
all squirmy.” As if to prove it, she wriggled on the stool. “Baby, I want you
to play. And if you come home and talk dirty to me while we fuck, all the
better.”

“What about that fantasy we just shared? The double
penetration.”

She clasped his fingers and drew them to her breast. “Four
hands are better than two. And two cocks are better than one.”

* * * * *

The low drone of the ceiling fan filtered into Mitch’s
senses. He stared at the spinning blades and sank farther into the downy
pillows supporting his head. But he didn’t really see his surroundings. Wasn’t
really rooted here.

He was back in that steam room with Pearce.

For months he’d been unable to get his chief out of his
mind. When Pearce barked orders as they scrambled to answer a 9-1-1 call, the
hair on Mitch’s body stood on end. A single glance from Pearce made his blood
course powerfully through his veins and his cock rigid as hell.

Lately he’d felt Pearce’s gaze on him and hoped it was
because he was starting to return Mitch’s interest. Today he had become sure of
it.

Mitch’s cock bounced against his abs and he grabbed the head
and squeezed. Reliving their moment in the sauna today was the only way to get
his chief out of his blood long enough to get some shut-eye.

The scent of Pearce’s personal musk seemed to encompass
Mitch as he stroked his cock from tip to root. The way the man’s body glistened
with a sheen of sweat. A faint ruddiness that claimed his face as he watched
Mitch come undone.

Running his fingertip along the sensitive underside of his
shaft, Mitch let go of his inner battle and let himself feel. Fuck, seeing
Pearce’s long cock in his hand, stroking together, bonding over a primal urge…
Mitch’s balls clenched up tight to his body, growing heavier with the need to
blow.

Images flitted through his head like snapshots. A carefree,
crooked smile on his chief’s face. The ridges of his abs hidden beneath his
tight-fitting Firehouse 5 t-shirt. The tense splay of his legs as he came—

With a guttural growl, Mitch released. Hot fluid creamed
over his knuckles and splattered on his stomach. He watched it come, but could
think only of Pearce’s juices. How the tip of Pearce’s cock had spurted for a
long minute, nearly driving Mitch mad with want.

He fell back against the mattress with a harsh cry and let
the aftershocks run through him. Damn, this wasn’t the first time he’d thought
of Pearce while masturbating, but it was sure as hell better now that he wasn’t
left to his own imagination.

What had spurred his chief to have a mutual jack-off session
today? Better yet—would he do it again?

Tomorrow they shared another shift. Cutting people from the
mangled ruins of cars and hosing down gasoline fires were things they shared.
All the men did. But for Mitch, he also felt a connection with Pearce that went
beyond that of friendship or camaraderie. He wanted him in all ways.

Coming home to face his apartment today had never felt so
lonely. At least Pearce wasn’t alone—he got to go home to that stunning vixen
of a wife. Hell, how many times had Mitch fantasized about Ellie too? Of seeing
her in that tiny top that rode just above her jeans, revealing a band of flesh
that had made Mitch hard for hours?

A tingle of regret ran through him. Something inside him
said nothing besides a good jack-off session could ever happen between him and
Pearce because it would be a betrayal of Ellie. Mitch liked and respected her
too much for that.

He rolled onto his side and grasped the coverlet, ignoring
the semen drying on his belly and flipping the blanket over his nudity.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to figure out what was to be done about this
tangle. Right now, sleep was a dark shadow bearing down on him.

Before he drifted off, a leap of excitement sprang up in his
belly. When he got to work, he’d see Pearce. Hopefully an arrangement could be
reached. Hopefully he could get the man in his arms—or up against a wall, or on
his knees—where he wanted him.

Chapter Three

Ellie strode down the endless corridor to her office, hips
swaying more today than usual. Probably because Pearce had loved her into the
wee hours of the morning. She honestly didn’t know how he’d continued to go on
his lack of sleep. But Mitch Morelli was the equivalent of a blue pill for
Pearce.

She grew wet just thinking of the things they’d talked
about. For years, she’d known that sharing her husband with another man was
inevitable. When he’d first confessed to his same-sex love affair, the glint in
his eyes had been too strong. He wouldn’t have gone forever without finding
another male who sparked his interest.

She was just glad it was Mitch. If ever there was a guy who
was not out to hurt someone, it was him. And in Pearce’s career, one bad rumor
could cost him his job.

“Morning, Ellie,” Murphy, one of the morning cleaning
personnel on this floor of the hospital, said as he passed, pushing his cart of
supplies.

Smiling, she greeted him in return. Her office door loomed
ahead and she dreaded each step toward that mountain of administrative work on
her desk. The new budget proposal was due next week and she had other things on
her mind besides number crunching.

Like being crunched between two beefed-up firemen.

A slow burn began low in her belly. Could it actually
happen? Would Pearce really share her? And could she allow that?

She shook herself and pushed through the door into her
office. The once white walls had been painted in a soft blue and her big
antique oak desk gleamed with Murphy’s fresh polish job. She dropped her purse
on the surface and stuck her head back out the door.

“Murphy!”

He spun, a grin wreathing his face before he even saw who
was calling him.

“Great job!”

He gave her a wave in answer and continued down the corridor
to the bank of elevators.

Ellie went back into her office and closed the door. Leaning
against it, she tried to shake off the thoughts that ran rampant in her brain.
Memories from last night, fantasies of seeing Pearce with Mitch, of being in
their arms… of Pearce being pleasured while she was stuck here on the eighth
floor with a pile of paperwork.

A shock of need speared her low. She clamped her thighs
together and wished she’d worn anything but her silky siren-red panties and her
curve-hugging pencil skirt. She’d put them on today with thoughts of Pearce
peeling them off her when she got home, of his dusky voice murmuring about
Mitch and what they’d done together today. Now the garments felt too tight—too
constricting.

With a sigh, she pushed away from the door and crossed to
her desk on teetering fuck-me heels. Yeah, she was definitely in for a long,
tense day.

Hopefully her husband had a more enjoyable day on the job.
She always prayed for there to be few calls at the firehouse, but today she
also hoped he and Mitch were able to have a private discussion. In the hours
before dawn, Pearce had promised her he’d talk to his fellow firefighter. After
all, they’d shared a very intimate moment. It wasn’t as if they could just let
it pass without mention.

Or was it? They were men. Hard-asses like them didn’t hash
out their feelings. They bonded over beer.

She grabbed up a pen and scribbled a hasty note to stop at
the grocery store for a six-pack. Didn’t hurt to have it on hand, in the event
Mitch came over.

Checking the gold wristwatch Pearce had gotten her for their
last anniversary, she saw it was only 8:02 a.m. Damn. This was going to be a
longer day than she’d thought possible. What was Pearce doing right now at the
firehouse?

She pictured his chiseled chest in his yellow Firehouse 5
tee, bronzed biceps bulging from the sleeves. And his low-slung jeans, which
hugged his hips perfectly just below that ridge of muscle around his
midsection.

She shivered. Clamping her thighs together, she stared
blindly at her black computer screen.

Turn it on, Ellie. Stop thinking about what Pearce might
be doing.

Flopping against the back of her ergonomic chair, she closed
her eyes and allowed her mind to drift. Lurid images filtered into her brain.
Of her husband stroking his cock to completion in the company of the big
powerhouse Mitch. Their cocks in hand—or better yet, in one hand. Cocks rubbing
against each other as one of them fisted them.

Her pussy released a flood of cream.

Great, if she kept this up, the entire crotch of her panties
and her hose would be soaked by 8:05. Hell, she’d probably leave a wet mark on
the seat when she got up.

But just how far would Pearce take it? He was worried about
problems that would arise from such a relationship within the firehouse. While
she’d encouraged him to go after what he wanted, he was more cautious.
Hesitant.

Always the levelheaded one in their relationship, Pearce
wasn’t about to do something rash. If he chose to take on Mitch as a lover,
he’d damn well think it through first.

Resolutely, she threw herself into her work, hoping the dull
material would lessen her growing lust. But by three o’clock, she was going mad
wondering what was going on between her husband and the man he wanted.

* * * * *

Christ, what a day.
Pearce ran a hand over his face.
A three-car accident on the interstate resulting in eight people being
transported by ambulance and one by helicopter. Plus a small kitchen fire on
the West Side and a kid who’d been shoved inside a school locker by a bully,
only to find himself trapped. Pearce had taken that call personally since he’d
been the victim of a bully in elementary school. It’s what had spurred him to
go into the military and then become a fireman—fighting for the underdog was in
his blood.

After cutting the locker open and freeing the kid, he’d sat
down with the bully in the principal’s office and read him his rights, backing
off only when it appeared the kid would wet himself.

At least no one had lost their lives today. Each day on the
job like this was a blessing. Also, it was a good thing they didn’t have a big
four-alarm, because he was distracted by one big Italian guy.

He swung his gaze automatically toward the narrow, vertical
window cut into his office door, hoping for a glimpse of Mitch and yet dreading
it at the same time.

What was he going to do? Ellie’s eagerness for him to act
upon his desires only fueled the fires—fires that would scorch and burn too
easily. He and Mitch could both lose their jobs and never find work in this
city.

“Fuck,” he said quietly just as the door opened.

Luke Puckett, one of the best on the team, burst in, his
face stretched in a good-natured grin. “Hey, Chief, I’m outta here. Shift’s
over. You should hit it too. Damian’s here to take your place.”

Pearce raised his pen. “Just some paperwork to do before I
go. Tell everyone I said they’re dismissed and good job today.”

Luke withdrew his head then poked it back in. “Here’s
Morelli. Tell him yourself. I’ll let the others know. Later!”

As the fireman fled, Pearce’s stomach bottomed out. Just the
mention of Mitch’s name sent him into a sensual spiral. His cock hardened and
he was thankful for the barrier of the desk.

The object of his passions stood in the doorway, his broad
shoulders taking up most of the wide frame. His very dark gaze lit on Pearce
and immediately Pearce’s skin lifted. Goose bumps broke out all over him,
sensation running down his spine like a damn live wire.

“I’m done for the day. Headed to the gym.”

Pearce’s gaze snapped to his and held—held. His cock
throbbed mercilessly within the confines of his jeans. Fuck, now what? Every
cell in his being yearned to follow this man to the gym and replay their moment
in the sauna. But his brain told him it was wrong—that he couldn’t dally with a
team member.

Mitch’s chest rose and fell as if he struggled too. Pearce
watched the Firehouse 5 logo stretch across his muscles, remembering too well
what his bare chest looked like coated with droplets of come.

He set down his pen. From far away, he heard himself answer
Mitch. “I’ll join you.”

Mitch’s hard mouth twitched into a broad smile that lit his
eyes and carved creases around each. He shifted his weight from foot to foot
and, from the corner of his eye, Pearce noted the evidence of his friend’s
arousal.

“Let me get my stuff out of my locker. I’ll meet you there.”

“Sounds good.” Mitch gave him one last lingering look that
made his pulse race and then disappeared through the door again.

For a moment, Pearce was frozen in his seat. Longing to get
up and go, battling to keep from doing that at the same time. Could he keep
this on the down-low? Two firemen working out at the gym to blow off some
stress wasn’t unheard of. But two guys blowing their wads in the steam room
together was. What if someone were to walk in on them?

Then he thought of Ellie. The haze of lust he’d seen in her
beautiful turquoise eyes thrilled him to the core. That he could still do that
to her after fifteen years of marriage was a heady feeling. Their sex life had
never been lacking, but calling upon that new fantasy had produced a change in
her. He saw it in the way she looked at him, as if she’d fallen in love with
him all over again. And in the way she’d touched him, her delicate hands
demanding her due as he dreamt of tasting Mitch.

Shoving back his chair, he dragged his cell from his pocket.
A second later, Ellie’s rich voice answered.

“Hey, sweetness,” he said in a low voice, boiling for her
and for the man who was probably halfway to the gym right now.

“Pearce.” She was breathless.

“Just wanted to let you know I’ll be a little late, but not
much. I’m going to the gym.”

A beat of silence. “With Mitch?” It came out as a whisper.

“Not ‘with’ him, but he’ll be there.”

He could almost hear her squirming and obscene visions of
pushing her back against her ergonomic chair, pressing her knees up and back
and slamming into her tight sheath flitted through his mind. They’d never had
office sex before, but maybe it was time they tried it.

“You’d better tell me everything that goes down, Pearce.
Every last damn nasty word!”

He chuckled. “Baby, you couldn’t stop me if you tried. Now
take care going home, and I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be waiting. Without panties.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Love you.”

“And you, Ellie.” Pearce ended the call, shoved his cell
into his pocket once more, and in five minutes was on his way to the gym. To
the sauna. To the man who had Pearce not only by the cock but by the
heartstrings.