How Do Firemen Make Love (Flame On) by Dréa Riley Page B

house he was going to see a peepshow, let alone find himself standing in the middle of his neighbors’ driveway, willing his cock to soften so he could move without blowing his wad into his suddenly too tight denim.
    Taking a deep breath and looking back up toward the window, he was about to turn and go home, making a mental note to remind his two new friends that it was completely unsafe not to have that window covered. Especially if they were going to be prancing around naked. A thought struck Matt. Whoever that vision had been, she was not Dréa, nor Laura.   Who was she, and what was she doing in the duo’s home, standing naked on the second-story landing for God and everybody to see?
    Halfway back down the block towards the home he shared with his twin, Matt turned back and looked questioningly at the house at the end of the street.
    In that moment, he noticed something else he’d missed while he’d been staring at the dark-skinned beauty. She’d left the front door open. Anyone could walk in off the street. Never mind the fact that the house was pretty nicely furnished; as far he could tell, whoever was visiting was also alone in that house. Anything could happen. He’d just go up and check that everything was okay and make sure she closed and locked the door. Yup, simple. In and out. No worries.
    Once he reached the front door that stood more than halfway open, Matt knocked soundly on the frame.
    “Hello, Hello!” he called out, his deep voice resonating throughout the lower floor.
    “Dréa? Laura? Hello.” Stepping farther into the home, he looked around. The place showed signs of recently being cleaned, which told him the girls must have planned to be out of town for a few days and called in a cleaning service. He wondered if that was who the person he’d seen in the window was, some maid or something. He’d be sure to let Laura and Dréa know what kind of help they’d hired. The woman had probably known she could be seen out the window from that angle.   He knew both divas were real particular about their privacy and would not be pleased to find that someone they trusted had taken advantage of them.
    Looking around with a more serious eye, Matt noted that nothing seemed to be missing. The only thing out of place was the expensive-looking high heeled sandals that seemed to have been dropped at the foot of the stairs.   Picking them up he noted the size; to small do be Dréa to large to be Laura.   And whoever owned the shoes was still in the house.
    Treading carefully up the stairs and listening for any sound, Matt hoped that whoever was in the house hadn’t made it to the back of Dréa’s closet—he so didn’t relish being shot today. Training his ears to pick up the smallest sound, he moved across the landing past the game lounge toward the bedrooms. Standing in the small hallway, he saw that the doors to both Laura and Dréa’s rooms were closed; however, the door to the oft unused guest room was wide open.   Upon closer inspection, the guest room looked as if it had been occupied for a few days. The bed covers were mussed, and there were shoes and books tossed haphazardly about on the plush carpet.
    Nearly all the way into the room, Matt’s muscles tensed, and he nearly threw himself on the floor when he heard a muffled groan coming from the in-suite bathroom. There was another small moan, followed by the soft splashing sound of water. Tiptoeing his way to the bathroom door, Matt held his breath, waiting to see if the noise would come again.
    Looking through the gap in the doorway, he was able to see the room clearly reflected in the large, gilded, floor-to-ceiling mirror. On the floor near the stand-alone shower was a crumpled pair of hose and some soggy underwear. As if the owner had stepped into the running shower with them on, then tossed them out.   The shower was still dripping, as if she’d forgotten to turn it completely off. Using the mirror to continue his scan of the room, Matt