He comes in my mouth with a roar, tossing his head back and squeezing his eyes closed. I pull him into my mouth harder, letting each spurt of come slide down my throat until I’ve sucked him dry. His hands drop from my hair to smack down on the counter behind me as his body sags.

Pulling my mouth away from his cock, I get up from my knees to stand between the cage of his arms and he finally opens one of his eyes to look at me.

“I’m never going to be able to work tonight. Every time I look at you, I’m going to think about my cock in your mouth. Take your pants off, it’s my turn now,” he mutters.

I’ve been tagging along with DJ while he works the last week, but he’s been staying back at the station doing paperwork and training instead of going out on calls. Tonight I’ll actually get to see him in action.

I smile and pat his cheek. “We don’t have time. You now have ten minutes to get to work and I still need to change.”

Leaning up on my tiptoes, I slide my cheek against his and then run the tip of my tongue across the edge of his ear. “I’ve always wanted to have sex in an ambulance. You can pay me back later.”

Sliding out from under his arms, he smacks my ass as I head upstairs to change out of my jeans. I let the sound of his laughter follow me as I go, warming the chill in my soul so I don’t have to think about what’s going to happen to me when all this normalcy disappears.

“No, Mrs. Ortiz, we can’t give you a ride to the hospital to see your nephew,” I tell the old woman for the third time tonight.

Mrs. Ortiz is in her eighties and her nephew is a junkie who winds up hospitalized from an overdose at least every other month. Each time he’s admitted, we get a call that Mrs. Ortiz is having chest pains. Even though we know it’s not true, we still have to drive out here, assess the situation and scold her for making a false emergency call to the station.

“They took away my license!” she complains. “You drive through the lobby of one Red Lobster and suddenly you’re unfit to be behind the wheel of a vehicle.”

I try to stifle a laugh as Brad packs up the first responder bag, grumbling under his breath. Even though I knew fully well that Mrs. Ortiz wasn’t in any dire situation, I still made Brad go through the normal routine of checking her vitals. He can bitch all he wants, but the newbie needs the practice. I’d much rather have him practice on this old woman with an attitude than on an actual emergency.

“I know damn well you’re still driving, so don’t give me that nonsense,” I tell her. “Your car was still warm and the engine was still ticking when we pulled in.”

I raise my eyebrow at her and try to keep a stern look on my face.

She harrumphs, crossing her arms over her chest. “The Quick Mart was having a sale on TV dinners. A woman’s got to eat, you know.”

Following Brad out of the kitchen, I remind her that we’re not a taxi service before joining Phina in the open doorway of the living room. Giving her a wink, I grab her hand as we make our way down the front porch and out to the ambulance. Phina gives a wave to Jackson, who’s parked right behind the rig while I hold open the passenger door and take my time putting my hands on her ass to help push her up into her seat.

Brad jumps into the back of the ambulance while I round the front end and get behind the wheel.

While I start up the vehicle, Brad reaches through the seats to hand me the patient report card he filled out so I can call the information in to dispatch and inform them that once again, there was no medical emergency at Mrs. Ortiz’s house.

As soon as I end my call to dispatch on the radio system and finish entering the information into the computer attached to the dashboard, Phina starts laughing. “Boy, your job is full of so much excitement, I almost can’t handle it.”

Pulling away from the curb, I can’t help but laugh with her. Her happiness and laughter is almost as addicting as her attitude. “Shut your yap. I know you got hot standing there in the doorway listening to me use my ‘adult voice’ on Mrs. Ortiz.”

She continues to laugh, asking me about other calls I’ve been on in my career. As much as I don’t want someone to get hurt, I can’t help but be a little salty that our call-outs tonight involved someone who fell and couldn’t get up, a woman whose son had food poisoning and a drunk going through withdrawal who assumed he was dying. Is it too much to ask for a little gunshot wound or stabbing?

After we get back to the station, I let Brad and a few other guys disinfect the back of the ambulance, restock the supplies we used tonight and start charging all of the equipment for the next shift while I finish up some paperwork. Phina sits on the edge of my desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs while she flips through a magazine.

It’s bad enough I’ve had thoughts of that stellar blow job in my head all night long, now I have to try and concentrate on filling out these fucking performance evaluations for Brad with a clear view of Phina’s long, smooth legs that I can still feel wrapped around my waist.

A throat clears from the doorway and I guiltily look away from her legs to glare at Brad.

“Ambulance has been cleaned and stocked. I gave the outside a good scrubbing, so it’s still sitting out in the driveway drying off. The guys and I are all heading to bed. Anything you need before we turn in?”

I check my watch and realize it’s already after midnight.

“No, go ahead and turn in. As long as we don’t get any calls during the night, I’ll just see you in the morning and we can go over your review,” I tell him.