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When Lockhart stepped off the fire engine, I couldn’t help but stare. His shirt stuck to his chest with a mixture of sweat and water, showing every inch of definition of his bulging chest. His arms jut through the sleeves of his shirt like two powerful tree trucks through rock, the tattoos reaching from his neckline and shoulders, stretching across every free inch of skin covering his arms. The color of his eyes matched the ash that was smeared across his face and down his thick neck.

Walking across the bay flor, he began to peel off the red suspenders holding his bunkers up, and set towards his locker. I watched as he expertly let his bunkers fall over the tops of his boots and step out of them, revealing a pair of boxer briefs plastered to his legs from sweat after a five alarm fire. He stood up, turning my direction, and I quickly diverted my stare, thinking to myself how glad I was that my clothes were already soaked from the hose, otherwise he would see how moist my panties were. I peeked another look his way, catching his eye for a mere second. I blushed and quickly turned away. “Shit” I thought to myself… As if being the only girl in a fire house full of guys, and good-looking ones at that, wasnt hard enough.

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