Luke Harris stared at the gold plate with his name inscribed on it. The plate proclaimed the locker was his, but Luke knew the men in the firehouse still considered it Danny Truitt’s. They could barely glance at it, or him, when he stood in front of the open locker door. An ex-Marine with four tours in Iraq, Luke understood the pain of loss all too well. He knew the other guys would always grieve for their fallen friend. However, he’d never been the one to backfill the hole left in a unit—the one who had to figure out how to mesh with an already tight crew.

Still, they’d all welcomed him. Quietly, at first. Likely, they’d held misgivings about whether he could do the job. He was a rookie firefighter; he’d had a lot to prove. Gradually, they’d begun to accept him, even treating him to the rookie hazing he’d been warned to expect when he’d gone through the academy.

He’d attended their barbecues, volunteered to clean Danny’s widow’s car and mow her yard, and had pitched in to help during holiday displays at the local malls. Then, finally, his truck crew had invited him to accompany them on one of their mysterious outings.

He’d been curious for weeks, always catching the tail-end of a conversation here and there, ones that were quickly cut short when he arrived. He’d thought for the longest time they might be discussing him, or that maybe they were blackballing him from their off-duty parties. Not until a couple of months ago had he learned there was a real reason for their wariness. The men of Firehouse 69 had a secret. One that revolved around one particular Memphis sex club.

Now, Luke wasn’t some innocent newb. He’d heard about BDSM. Read some books. Played with some toys and implements with the women he’d dated, but he’d never experienced anything like the eye-opening activities he’d witnessed inside La Forge.

He had no regrets he’d been invited to tag along. Now that he was “in the know,” the only persons excluded from those clandestine discussions were the men on the other truck and their lieutenant, Knox Triplett. His crew had decided to keep their private business private. Who knew what the repercussions might be should the higher-ups get wind of their “extracurricular” activities?

And there had been an instant benefit to his accompanying the guys to the club—he no longer felt like an outsider. He shared their secret. What he’d do with it now, well, he wasn’t sure.

He hadn’t been back to the club. Although everything he’d seen had left an indelible impression, he’d also been left with a lingering dissatisfaction. And fear. A loner by nature, as he’d watched one particularly adventurous couple playing on a stage, he’d felt as though a noose had settled around his neck. Feelings he’d long denied and never really been able to describe had nagged him like a festering bug bite. He was tempted to scratch the itch but feared that doing so might leave a scar.

“Hey, LT’s ready to start the morning briefing,” Coop called from the end of the row of lockers.

Luke gave him a nod and slammed the door. He’d already changed from his “civvies” to his station uniform—dark firehouse tee and pants—and was ready to start the long shift.

Inside the classroom, he settled into a chair next to Gage Eastwood—a guy who’d become considerably less grumpy since he’d met the woman who would become his wife, a pretty romance author they’d had to pry out of her car after it kissed a logging truck.

Gage gave him a nod, then turned his attention to the LT, who was reading from a clipboard. He talked about the fires the last shift fought and the training drills he wanted the men to work on.

His flint-gray gaze shot to Luke. “Do you have the menu prepared for the nutritionist to review?”

“Yes, sir. With a list of ingredients.” The department was on a fitness kick. A nutritionist had been hired to review menus and provide food prep advice.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Gage asked, giving him a sideways glance.

Luke suppressed a smile. “Spaghetti with meatballs, bruschetta, and a garden salad.” As expected, groans erupted, so he added, “I’ve been studying Pinterest. I think I’ll do better this time with the noodles.”

Gage held his stomach. “Never had to cut noodles with a knife before…”

Everyone laughed.

The LT cleared his throat. “One more thing… As part of the Better Health Initiative, the department has contracted with a local gym. Once a week, we’ll have fitness instructors available to tweak your workouts.”

Gage closed his eyes and pressed his forefingers against his temples. “I see more time on the elliptical in our future.”

Luke grinned. He liked working out. And the others might make some noise about this change, but they were a very fit bunch. Not an ounce of fat. Something he could attest to personally since he’d seen them all nude in the shower and at the club.

“Expect the instructors today. Make time in your schedules,” the LT said, narrowing his gaze at the men.

There were nods and yes-sirs. When they’d been dismissed, Luke made his way to the kitchen. As the probie of the group, he was the one stuck with most of the kitchen duty.

“Remember, I like my eggs over easy,” Coop called out.

Luke smiled and gave him a wave, happy to be teased. The silence that had met him when he’d first arrived in the firehouse had been deflating. He’d much rather face their taunts.

Two hours later, he finished stacking plates and utensils in the dishwasher.

Footsteps, coming fast down the hallway, caught his attention. Noah Turner glanced around the doorway, his eyebrows raised and his green eyes wide. “You’re never gonna believe who’s here,” he said in a loud whisper.

Curiosity aroused, Luke set the dishwasher to begin its cycle and headed straight for the rec room. There was laughter, subdued, yes, because the LT hovered around the edge of the circle surrounding the new instructors. But when Gage shifted to the left, Luke got a good look at the pair that was the center of everyone’s attention.

He sucked in a deep breath. Nooo.

Gage glanced to his side, then elbowed his belly. “You remember Britney and Anton, right?” he whispered.

Luke nodded, his gaze not leaving the attractive pair. He remembered all right. Hell, he knew exactly what color Britney’s pretty, puffy nipples were—rose-brown—the fact she waxed down south, the lush curves of her breasts and ass. The last time he’d seen her ass, she’d sported long, angry-looking welts from the lashing Anton had given her.

Her blue gaze swung toward him and narrowed, and then she flashed him a wide smile.

No way did she recognize him. He’d been one of many surrounding the raised stage set in one well-lit corner of La Forge’s main salon.

She flipped her long blond hair over one shoulder and settled onto the weight bench on her back, knees spread, feet flat on the floor.

Today, she wore calf-length yoga pants, but he might as well have had x-ray vision because he could see the outline of her labia, knew they were puffy with excitement, and imagined how pretty and pink they were beneath her clothing.

Surreptitiously, Luke reached down to adjust his dick, which was lengthening inside his pants leg.

Gage gave a dirty chuckle beside him. “Watch out. Anton’s givin’ you the stink-eye.”

Luke darted a glance at Anton, who was in the middle of explaining how breathing properly would help them attain heavier lifts, but his gaze was on Luke, his dark eyes glaring daggers.

Knowing his expression must have reflected his lust, Luke stiffened his shoulders and kept his gaze glued to Anton. Today, the other man’s hair wasn’t spiked in a mohawk. He’d pulled his black hair back into a ponytail that concealed most of the shaved sides of his head. And he wasn’t wearing eyeliner. He wore knee-length shorts and a sleeveless tee that hugged his chest and abdomen. Anton was in some shape, every muscle of his abdomen perfectly defined.

And now, Luke was thinking about how his stomach had looked, rippling with every stroke of the lash he’d laid on Britney’s ass, while his cock had bobbed, thick and hard against his belly. Internally, Luke groaned.

Unwanted, the reason why Luke hadn’t returned to the club struck him anew. It hadn’t been some passing curiosity. Just as he’d experienced two months ago, he was every bit as attracted to Anton as he was the lush blonde pumping up the weighted bar from her well-developed chest.

Anton helped Britney lift the weights onto the stand and then held out his hand to help her up, not that she needed it.

She popped up, effervescent as ever. “We’ll be doing weight training and some yoga.” Then, she went on to describe the many benefits of yoga while she slowly moved into poses that defied gravity.

Luke muttered under his breath as she lifted one leg to her side because he could imagine every man there wondering what it would feel like to fuck the limber woman. At least two men present already knew—Coop and Gage. He wasn’t sure about the others who often played in the club.

He almost regretted the fact he hadn’t returned because he might have had that privilege, too. Britney was Anton’s sub. And Anton was one of the club’s masters. He trained wannabe Doms using Britney and some other experienced subs, sometimes allowing those he trained to reward Britney with gifts of pleasure.

The concept of which Luke couldn’t quite grasp. Was it that Anton was a voyeur and liked to watch his girlfriend being screwed by other men? Did sex have nothing to do with the obvious affection and possessiveness Anton showed toward the woman?

When Britney stopped speaking, Anton said, “We’ll be here for the rest of the day. We understand you’ll be answering calls—no worries there. If you have time, stop in. We’re here to help.”

The men stopped to shake the couple’s hands, and then some began filtering out of the room to complete other tasks they’d been assigned.

Luke wanted to turn tail and make his way quickly to the farthest reaches of the stationhouse, but that wasn’t to be the case. Gage grabbed his arm and pushed him forward.

Luke couldn’t help it. The nearer to Anton he went, the more tension filled his body and the hotter his face grew.

Anton’s gaze drifted down then up. “I know you.”

Luke shook his head. “Don’t think we’ve ever been introduced.”

Anton waggled his eyebrows. “But you’ve seen me naked. Better than an introduction.”

Luke swore and looked around him, but only Gage was left in the room, and his mouth was stretching into a wide grin.

Britney patted the weight bench she’d vacated. “Come lie down,” she said.

Her girlish, breathy voice did things to him. Made his cock thicken more. Fuck, I have to get out of here.

Instead, he found himself moving forward, his feet dragging on the tiled floor. He stepped onto the thick plastic mat, sat on the edge of the bench, and shot a glance at Gage, who was turning to stand in the doorway, as though blocking it.

“Lie back,” Britney said more softly.

Luke closed his eyes for a second, knowing more was going on here than any workout. But he laid back. Now, his gaze snagged on the underside of Britney’s well-endowed chest.

Anton stepped behind the bar and gazed down at him, upside down. “You haven’t been back to the club,” he said, his tone chiding. “I thought we had a moment there.”

“A…moment?” Luke asked, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy.

“When I stroked my dick with the flogger, you couldn’t stop staring. You looked…envious.”

Luke began to sit up, to tell them to both go to hell, but Britney swung a leg over his body and sat on his trapped cock. There was no denying his arousal. Not when it nudged against her clothed pussy.

Her mouth curved into a feline smile. “We’ll expect to see you there, Thursday night. We know your schedule. And now, we know where you work.” She rolled her hips, scooting forward and back across his crotch. “We’ll play.”

He glanced up at Anton but noted that the Dom was standing near enough for Luke to look up Anton’s shorts. He wore no underwear. His cock was right there, tilting against the fabric. “I’d like to work with you,” Anton said. “Test you out, so to speak. I don’t take on many people to train anymore, but we’re both interested.”

Luke’s breath held, and he couldn’t hide the fact of where he was looking or that his own cock was nearly rigid. His body quivered with tension and…delight. What the fuck?

Britney bent over him, kissed his mouth, then rubbed his bottom lip with the tip of her finger while she gazed deeply into his eyes. “I can’t wait to see you again, Luke Harris.”

When she climbed off him, his dignity was in tatters. He didn’t look at either of them as he rose to leave, glaring at a softly chuckling Gage as the other man made a space for him to pass through the door.

No way was he going to La Forge. Whatever plans the kinky couple had made were going to be met with disappointment.