Uniform Fetish: Men Of Station 23 Part 1

Uniform Fetish.

Men of Station 23.

Stacey Espino.

Tammy Palmer can barely control her uniform fetish when she walks by Station 23. The four firefighters she fantasizes over are pure s.e.x and muscle. But Tammy's not ready for love after her last disastrous relations.h.i.+p, not to mention she's not even in the same league as these delicious men.

When the newspaper she edits for gives her the chance for a promotion from pus.h.i.+ng pencils, she jumps at the opportunity. The only problem is she's expected to spend two weeks at the new fire station in preparation for the article.

Tammy's wanton desires are soon unleashed when she moves into the station. But good things rarely last, and Tammy's crazed ex returns, luring the men away from the station. He's determined to get her back at any cost.

Will the men of Station 23 be able to save the woman they've grown to love in time?

Note: There is no s.e.xual relations.h.i.+p or touching for t.i.tillation between or among the men.

Genre: Contemporary, Menage a Trois/Quatre.

Letter to Readers.

Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Men of Station 23 by Stacey Espino from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

DEDICATION.

Dedicated to the brave men and women who keep our country safe. And thanks for looking hot in that uniform!.

Chapter One.

Tammy Palmer reluctantly agreed to accompany her friend Stephanie to the fire station on the corner of Yonge and Bridgestone. Well, not to the station, more like by it. At two o'clock every day the men in Station 23 hit the gym. It was a gla.s.s-enclosed room on the northern corner of the new building. Since their office was less than a five-minute walk away, Stephanie insisted they spend part of their break casually strolling by at the same time each day.

The eye candy was nice, but Tammy was sure the men would figure out their game one of these days. She'd planned to stop the walks altogether but knew this was the week her men were on s.h.i.+ft. These four were unlike any of the others. Their bodies looked GQ-worthy, so hard and ripped. When they'd occasionally notice them walking by, a couple of them would always smile or wink. It got Tammy's heart racing and p.u.s.s.y moistening every time. Returning to the office all hot and bothered made for very uncomfortable afternoons sitting at a desk.

"Come on, Tammy. Hurry up!"

"Can I at least grab my purse?" If they were going to casually walk by, she at least wanted to be able to buy a coffee at Tim Hortons so the trip wasn't completely pathetic. Tammy was thirty-six, not sixteen. She shouldn't even be humoring her younger coworker, but they'd become best friends over the past two years they worked at the paper together.

Tammy had broken up with her controlling boyfriend, and Stephanie her cheating one, in the same week. It had been the catalyst to a deep, bonding friends.h.i.+p. It didn't matter that her friend was twenty-five because they just clicked, and Tammy had never really felt her age.

The walk itself was one of the reasons she'd convinced herself to keep up the ritual. It was the only exercise she seemed to get each day. Today the skies were gray, warning of rain to come. She could smell it in the air, heavy and thick.

They picked up their coffee first. Tammy had her usual double-double with milk. It looked better to walk along sipping on their drinks rather than race by while gawking. When they neared the infamous corner, a familiar thrill raced up her spine. It wasn't like she had the nerve to act on her desires. She lived behind a desk at one of the larger newspapers, editing and preparing articles for the Wednesday and Sat.u.r.day editions. Living the fantasy was not going to happen. Those muscled G.o.ds she enjoyed feasting her eyes on most afternoons were no more real for her than a picture in a magazine. It got depressing after a while, constantly craving but never getting the satisfaction.

"Look!" Steph b.u.mped her with her hip, stealing glances from the corner of her eye.

Tammy followed her gaze. Like she'd expected and hoped, her crew was on s.h.i.+ft. One was lying on a workbench, a metal bar propped up in his arms with a ma.s.sive amount of weight on each end. His muscles bulged and strained, making her weak in the knees. Another sat on a bench doing arm curls with a barbell. The first two wore white unders.h.i.+rts, but the third was on the elliptical bare chested and glistening with clean sweat. He looked in her in the eye, not slowing down his vigorous pace.

"He's looking at you," Steph whispered, nudging her in the ribs.

Normally, Tammy would avert her eyes, but not today. Since this was the last time she planned to take this walk, she figured she may as well get a little brave. She smiled, a mix of flirting and sweetness. He was probably bored of all the women who came to gawk. Why would they enclose the firefighters' gym in gla.s.s? Seriously. It was a traffic accident waiting to happen. That's when she spotted the fourth man. He had been leaning over in a chair tying his running shoes, likely watching her the whole time. A conspiratorial smirk lit up his face, and she felt her own turn hot and flush.

"Let's just get out of here, Steph."

They turned around before they even reached the corner, looking like two desperados with no destination. Tammy supposed she was, in a way, considering she hadn't been laid in over two years. She'd promised herself to make an effort at a new relations.h.i.+p but always chickened out. After her last experience, she was too leery to trust a new man.

"You're such a party p.o.o.per," said Steph as they neared their building. "Two of them were totally checking you out."

"I don't think it was me they were looking at. You're young, cute, and your skirt is way too short. They probably thought I was your mother."

Steph laughed. "Stop making excuses."

"For what? You think I actually have a chance with one of them? Ha! I'd have better odds playing the lottery."

"Not every man is looking for Barbie, Tammy. You can't just hide away from life forever. Sooner or later, you'll have to take that plunge into the sordid, occasionally rewarding world of dating again."

"How about I hide a little longer?" Tammy opened the gla.s.s door into the office and went for her desk. Steph went her own way, back to the grindstone. It was stuffy inside, barely any daylight entering from the small windows at the one side of the building. This was her reality-work, sleep, work. At least she lived by her own rules, no overcontrolling boyfriend breathing down her neck. Brian had seemed normal at first, but within months of committing to each other his true colors emerged. He'd call her nonstop, show up at the office, leave random gifts at her door. She'd had to move twice and change her phone number several times. His Jekyll-and-Hyde routine could turn downright scary when he showed how violent he was capable of becoming.

Now she had a new job, new place, and answered to n.o.body. Unfortunately, Tammy quickly learned that peace and freedom weren't enough for a satisfying life. She wanted so much more.

Why would G.o.d give her the desire for true love, pa.s.sionate s.e.x, and romantic fantasies, when they were out of reach or didn't exist for her at all? It wasn't fair.

Mr. Templeton came down the hall. "Back from your walk already?" he asked, dropping a stack of papers in her in-box.

"It's not the best weather out."

He sat on the edge of her desk, his eyes narrowed and brow lowered. He got the same look every time he wanted to talk about business, or something serious. "I've just been given a new a.s.signment, Tammy. It's a big one because it was sent to me directly by our munic.i.p.al representative."

Although she couldn't do it in front of him, she was rolling her eyes in spirit. Tammy could care less about politics or kissing a.s.s, but she needed this job, so humored her boss.

"Interesting..."

"Oh, it is. This is a big opportunity for the Heartland Tribute, and I want you to be the one on the a.s.signment."

It was probably going in the Sat.u.r.day edition, which was already full. Tammy would have to shorten some of the highlights and juggle the paid advertising. "Okay. Who's writing the article?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "You don't seem to understand. I'm giving you a big chance here, Tammy. I want you to go out and do the interview and research hands-on, write the article, and get it in our big Sunday edition in three weeks."

"Me?" She felt honored to be given an a.s.signment other than sitting behind her desk correcting comma splices and run-on sentences. An advance in her career could be the catalyst to bigger and better things in her personal life. Her daily routine was dragging her down lately, and a real a.s.signment promised new challenges and rewards.

"You've proved yourself an a.s.set since you started. I know I can trust you to handle this with the utmost professionalism."

"Of course, sir. Thank you for the chance."

He stood up and adjusted his tie. "I'll have all the particulars to you by the end of the day."

Mr. Templeton strolled back down the hall. He wasn't all bad, and he never lost his temper. His wife was the motherly type and often visited the office with freshly baked goodies. Not the best thing for Tammy's expanding waistline, but she appreciated the gesture from the older woman.

By the time her boss returned to her desk a few minutes before five, her a.s.s was numb and her vision was fuzzy from doing copy edits for hours. "As promised." He set the file folder on her desk, a smile brightening his tired face. "You can get started tomorrow. Consider your regular responsibilities gone for the next two weeks. I'll get Stephanie and April to handle your editions."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't forget, this is a top priority." He made the a.s.signment feel life or death. Maybe it was where her career was concerned.

She didn't even stop to peruse the file once he left. The clock struck five and she wanted to be as far as possible from the gray, soul-sucking building. Tammy grabbed her purse from under her desk and bolted for the gla.s.s doors. The suns.h.i.+ne she'd hoped for didn't greet her. A light drizzle fell down as she walked to her car parked around back. She had laundry to do, bills to pay, and she had to hit the grocery store on the way home. The glamorous life of a newspaper editor at the Heartland Tribute.

As she drove the city streets, curiosity began to fester about her new a.s.signment. She a.s.sumed it was some political nonsense, but what if it wasn't? Perhaps it was something interesting, maybe requiring her to travel or learn something new and exciting. Did she have to fly to Paris for the weekend? Go undercover in the Playboy Mansion? Tammy chuckled to herself as she drove along. Since the file was in the trunk of her car, she'd have to postpone finding out.

Tammy hit the grocery store, standing in line for ten minutes just to buy her milk, coffee, and breakfast bars. Her feet were killing her from standing in her heels. When she got home she lugged a load of laundry down to the bas.e.m.e.nt of her apartment building and then washed the few dishes in her sink left from the morning. By the time Tammy sat down and turned on her laptop to pay her bills online, she was exhausted. It wasn't so much the physical strain. Her issues were deeper, a weariness of life itself. That's when she finally remembered the file. She sifted through her purse for the package her boss had given her.

She had the main lights off in the living room, as she often did in the evenings. Tammy preferred the ambience of candlelight. It helped her reflect, to connect with her inner self.

Her computer monitor highlighted the kitchen table enough for her to read. Holy h.e.l.l! Tammy leapt up to her feet, her chair falling back onto the parquet floor. She stared at the files spilled over her table, afraid to touch them, as if they'd spontaneously combust. Tammy wished they would. Her mother had always told her to be careful what she wished for. It had come to reality once already with her psycho ex-boyfriend. She'd dreamt of commitment and adoration from a man, but instead got a jealous, controlling a.s.shole who turned her world upside down. Now this...

Tammy righted her chair and sat down, taking a breath. She reread the a.s.signment five times before the reality sunk in. Was it too late to ask Mr. Templeton to give it to someone else in the office? No, she'd appear ungrateful and never be given the opportunity again.

She'd wished for one of those hard-bodied firefighters to grace her bed, a silly fantasy exaggerated by her walks in front of Station 23 with Steph. Now she was expected to do a fully detailed article on the new fire station, requested by the mayor and a top priority for the paper. She was required to give up her life for two weeks to live amongst these heroes of their city, get into their heads, experience their lives, and then write the article of her life.

But she'd already made a fool of herself by acting like a h.o.r.n.y teenager, pa.s.sing by their weight room on an almost-daily basis just to gawk. They'd surely recognize her when she showed up at their door for the a.s.signment. It would be the most humiliating experience of her life. She couldn't do it, wouldn't do it...had to do it.

Tammy no longer cared about her bills or her laundry which probably needed to go in the dryer. She slammed her laptop shut and paced her living room, occasionally glancing out her third-story window to the dark, wet streets below. The streetlights highlighted the steady fall of rain, so symbolic of her mood. If only she hadn't gone for those walks with Steph. At least she'd have her dignity when she showed up at the station. But now she'd be a laughingstock, some middle-aged desperado trying to get an eyeful of the strapping young men responsible for protecting the city. They deserved respect, not to be treated like mindless s.e.x objects.

There had to be something she could do. She pressed her forehead to the cool, humid gla.s.s of her window, watching the odd car splash through the desolate street. That's when the idea struck her. Those firefighters had only seen her from a distance as she quickly walked by in the afternoons. If she altered her appearance just enough, maybe they wouldn't recognize her. Tammy grabbed her car keys and purse and dashed out of her apartment.

Chapter Two.

Tammy was expected at Station 23 at 10:00 a.m. the next morning. The meeting was already scheduled on one of her files. As instructed, she had her bags packed in her trunk just in case they were serious about her living at the station temporarily. She glanced at her watch from the driver's seat of her parked car. 9:55. She didn't want to appear overly eager and show up early, but being fas.h.i.+onably late would look bad on the newspaper. If she knocked on the door at exactly 10:00 they'd think she was a neurotic freak. Two more minutes.

She walked to the door of the office, her briefcase in hand, head held high. There was something to be said about a woman with confidence-even if she faked it. The reflective gla.s.s of the numerous bay doors cast an unfamiliar image back at her. It would take Tammy a while to get used to the deep wine red she'd dyed her hair last night. With her sungla.s.ses on and makeup she normally didn't wear, she was a different person. At least she prayed the firefighters didn't recognize her. They'd only remember the mousy, brown-haired plain Jane.

After pressing the b.u.t.ton on the door, she flinched. Rather than a doorbell chime, a loud, grinding buzzer echoed inside the station. A minute later the door was wrenched open. An older man with a big, white moustache frowned when he saw her.

"Can I help you?"

"My name's Tammy Palmer. I have an appointment for 10:00 to prepare an interview for the Heartland Tribute."

He didn't answer her, just turned his head and yelled into the ma.s.sive room. "Anywhere know anything about a Tammy Palmer doing some sort of interview?"

A deep voice replied, out of sight. "Oh, right. Send her on back."

The strange man motioned her to enter and then relocked the heavy door she'd come through. Inside she could see six fire trucks lined up in the huge garage. The ceilings were high, the concrete floors a s.h.i.+ny gray. There was even a cla.s.sic fire pole in the far corner. Tammy wondered if it was decorative or functional. She really did have a lot to learn.

She walked into the shop but stopped when the older man didn't follow her. Rather, he disappeared in another direction. Was she expected to keep going? Follow the direction in which that deep voice resonated? Her shoes shouldn't be too noisy on the hard floor. She'd been practical today, wearing low heels even though it would highlight her measly height of five foot three. It was the reason she usually wore high heels to work, especially when her best friend was five foot seven barefoot.

After a few tentative steps forward, her heels clicking despite her effort to creep along silently, she heard the voice again.

"Send her back!"

Well, since the old man was long gone, she rushed to the back room to hopefully start her interview. When she entered the lone open door, the calming sound of sports playing on a television and idle chatter brought her nerves down. She wasn't sure what she was expecting. Inside the large room was a flat screen TV and several black leather sofas. It looked like a regular bachelor pad, not a place of business. Then she spotted one of her men. The one who'd often wink at her, enjoying her discomfort, leaned back on one of the sofas. Please don't recognize me.

"There you are," said the dark-haired G.o.d who seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Frank send you back?"

"Um..."

He laughed. "Don't mind Frank. He's an old icon around here." These were all her men, the ones she loved to sneak peeks at when they were on s.h.i.+ft. Up close and personal they were so much taller and intimidating. She had to talk with them, engage in idle conversation when all she could think about was how incredible they'd look naked with just their firefighter helmets on. "My name's Darius. You're Tammy, right?"

She pushed aside her nerves and kept professional. "Yes, I was sent by the Heartland Tribute to research a full-section article about the men of the new Station 23."

"You make us sound fancy. Promise it's real simple around here. Not much to tell."

Tammy pulled out her notepad from the side pouch of her briefcase, along with a pen. She had to keep her mind on business. "How many of you work here at any given time?"

"Well, there are four of us in residence per s.h.i.+ft. Personally, we find it easier to go week by week, rather than day by day. This is our week. We'll live here full-time and then get a week off. It works out well for us."

Another man strolled over, a bottle of water in his hand. "This the girl from the paper?" he asked, resting his elbow on Darius's shoulder. They were both the same height, ma.s.sively built. Once side by side, they both stared at her with a look that was far from professional. She imagined the things they could be thinking and her p.u.s.s.y responded, clamping down on nothing, distracting her from her objective.

"Her name's Tammy. She's cute, ain't she?"

The new guy dragged a hand through his mop of dirty-blond hair and gave her the once-over. His eyes were pure seduction. Tammy had always thought of firefighters as chaste, respectable men of honor. Not real men with the same needs as civilians. She'd mentally put them on a pedestal. They didn't drink, smoke, curse, have tattoos, libidos, or lives outside of the public eye. G.o.d, was she ever disillusioned.

Darius shrugged off his friend and led her into the room with a hand to the small of her back. The simple touch registered strong for her, travelling all the way down to her toes. "Tammy, that was Aaron. Over there on the sofa, that's Jake. And the fourth member of our team is around here somewhere." He called out, "Conall?"

"What is it?" came a reply from above. There was another full level in the station which partially overlooked the main floor. Conall was the guy who could bench press a car. She vividly remembered drooling over his muscles when she'd walk by their gym. As soon as she saw his blond head peek out from the room above, her heart began to race. How would she keep her cool with her four fantasy men surrounding her, men with fire in their eyes? If only Steph knew about this. Tammy had been so shocked by the revelation she'd forgotten to call her friend. Maybe she'd see her pa.s.s by one day with one of the other girls from the office and they'd see Tammy inside. The thought almost made her chuckle as she imagined the look on Steph's face.

"Come meet your new roommate!"

She addressed Darius, who appeared to be the one in charge until now. "Do they really expect me to stay overnight?"

"For two weeks, yes, ma'am. Normally, it'd be one week here and one at our place, but for the sake of the a.s.signment we're staying on s.h.i.+ft for two weeks."