Up in Smoke (Firehouse Three, #4)

by Sidney Bristol

  She sighed and relaxed back into the sofa.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I swear.” Her smile was too...something. He didn’t have a word for it, but he didn’t like it.

  His gut said she was in trouble. And she wouldn’t tell him why. She never did. That wasn’t new, but it never stopped bugging him. He lived constantly on alert to catch Payton. He just wished she’d tell him something so he could stop making up stories behind where she went, the bruises he saw, the shadows in her eyes.

  “I’m going to go take a shower.” A hot one, to maybe loosen up his muscles. He couldn’t take the stupid pill because then he’d just end up, tired and loopy with no drive to make her answer his questions. Maybe a few minutes standing under the water would knock loose some ideas about what to do about Payton. G-rated, brotherly ideas, if he was lucky.

  Frustration fueled him down the hall and into his bathroom.

  What did he know about her current employer?

  He turned on the shower, stripped and got in, bracing his hands against the wall.

  She never talked about Mr. Smoke and so far, all she’d said was that she was his assistant. That meant traveling with him, handling day-to-day tasks.

  Chaz gritted his teeth. If the guy was younger than a hundred, chances were, he’d tried to get into Payton’s panties. And why not? She was a young, very attractive woman who had no qualms about flaunting her sexuality. She’d always been picky about guys though, so it stood to reason that money and being her boss wouldn’t be enough to get her in bed.

  If he ever met this idiot, Smoke, he was going to punch the guy’s perfect, white teeth out of his head. Chaz hated him on principle. Because he’d seen the kinds of places Payton went, the selfies she sent him with wish you were here captions, what she wore. Because of the security surrounding her job, she’d deactivated all of her social media accounts. All he had to go on were their weekly chats and the random texts to keep him in the loop about where she was next. With Mr. Smoke.

  A guy wouldn’t have a girl around him, that looked like her, without at least trying to sample some of her.

  Was that it? Was Payton hiding from her boss? Had the guy gone too far? Had he hurt her?

  Come to think of it...she’d worn long sleeves and covered up after that first night.

  What if...

  Despite the boiling hot water, Chaz’s body went cold.

  He slapped at the faucet, turning the shower off and got out.

  “Payton? Payton, you still here?”

  “What’s wrong?” Her footsteps thumped on the hardwood floor.

  He snatched a towel, wrapped it around his hips and stepped into the bedroom.

  She rounded the door and stopped, the remote in hand, eyes wide.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asked.

  “Who?”

  “Your boss.”

  “What?”

  “Did your boss...hurt you?”

  “No,” she said slowly. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m racking my brains trying to figure out why you’re here—why you’d show up now, what’s going on that you’re clearly not talking about—and all I can come up with is that your low-life boss has done something. Are you in trouble? You can tell me, Payton. I swear, I’ll... I’ll take care of you.”

  She opened and closed her mouth, eyes blinking.

  He lumbered toward her.

  Whatever it took, he’d do the right thing. He’d take care of her, or the problem. There had to be an answer, a solution. And he’d find it. She was his to take care of, damn it.

  Payton just kept staring at him.

  Was it too painful? If she couldn’t find the words, he could wait. He could be patient. He didn’t have her see-beneath-the-skin talents, but he could listen.

  Chaz wrapped his arms around her and gently pulled her to him. She didn’t seem to mind his wet skin or the water droplets coming off his hair. Her head rested against his chest, her hands curling around him. He always forgot how small she was until he hugged her. Payton was good at puffing up, blustering and bluff, but under that, she was as breakable as any other person.

  “I’m...really, I’m fine, Chaz. I was just...lonely. It’s fun and all, traveling like we do, but...I just wanted to see a familiar face. I swear, I’m fine.” She squeezed him, her soft hand stroking his back.

  “If he has touched you, or made you feel like you have to—”

  “Chaz.”

  “What?” He stared down at her frowning face.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Mr. Smoke is a woman.”

  “Wait—what?” Those words didn’t...they didn’t make sense. Why...?

  “You’re assuming that Mr. Smoke is a guy, and he...I don’t know, made an unwanted move on me, aren’t you?”

  “Well...yeah.”

  “Mr. Smoke is a woman. She and I share clothes. It’s kind of a funny thing.”

  “Then shouldn’t she be Miss Smoke?”

  “Yeah, but people respond better to mister.”

  “Then...what does she do?” He’d never really asked, because he didn’t want to know. But now...

  “I can’t talk about it. I signed a bunch of NDAs.” She let go of him and sat the remote on the dresser. “I shouldn’t have told you that much. It’s part of why I don’t get a lot of time off. I spend most of my time talking to people for her, so we can preserve the idea she is a he.”

  “I’m so confused right now.”

  “It’s okay. You care. I appreciate that.” She chuckled. “How’s the knee?”

  “Better,” he said automatically without thinking about it.

  “Really?” She cocked her head to one side, a brow arched at him.

  “It’ll be fine.” He just needed to go stand under the shower for about an hour and kick himself. Her boss. A chick.

  “You should take your pills. They prescribed them to you for a reason, and it looks like you’ve hardly taken any. You can’t strain your body and not give it a chance to rest.”

  “I don’t like taking them. I’ll just pop a few ibuprofens or something. Besides, inactivity has been my problem.”

  “Or I could massage it again.” She nudged him toward the bed. “Lie down.”

  “That’s not necessary.” He was in a God damn towel.

  “Don’t be a big baby. It helped this morning, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Stop arguing.”

  She bullied him back toward the bed, proving once again that it wasn’t the size of the woman that mattered.

  Fuck, he’d just...

  Chaz wanted to crawl under his bed, instead of lay on the mattress.

  He’d thought...

  “You want to tuck your towel in?” Payton climbed up on the bed.

  He shoved the towel under his hips and thighs.

  This was a bad idea.

  He fisted his hands and stared at the ceiling.

  “Good grief, relax a little. Don’t make me go get my girly-smelling lotion.” She snickered, but the threat didn’t bother him.

  His senior year, he’d just given up smelling like anything but a flower garden, thanks to whatever it was she sprayed on herself in the morning.

  “So, this one time, my boss and I got these massages on the beach. The waves crashing, they had this incense stuff and hot oil. It was divine.”

  She started above his knee, right up at the edge of the towel, digging her fingers into the muscle. She forced his legs apart, enough for her to get her hands in between, and kneaded, chatting about nothing at all, just like normal. Divine wasn’t what she did. It was more like torture. He grunted and gritted his teeth more than anything else. Focusing on her voice, the trivial details of her beach vacation, helped. But then he had a visual of Payton in that strappy, strange bikini she’d taken a picture wearing.

  Yeah, had to stop thinking about that.

  He could admit to his weird crush on Payton when she wasn’t around. Right now, he had to remind himself that they we
re family.

  Right.

  Because they’d ever acted like that.

  Sure, she called him bro and he’d tell people who asked that she was his stepsister, but he couldn’t say that with honesty. Real brothers didn’t think their sisters were hot, so it was a pretty damn good thing that he and Payton were about as related as cats and dogs. Otherwise... Fuck.

  Her fingers stroked down his calf. The worst was over and he exhaled. She was right, the massage helped a whole lot better than the mind-fogging pain pills. He just wished it was someone else doing it. Because the last thing he needed was fodder for his brain.

  Wait...

  Oh shit...

  He dared a quick glance down.

  Yup.

  He had a boner.

  Great.

  Fan-freaking-tastic.

  5.

  Tonight was the last night Payton could allow herself to ever see Chaz again. Not only had she told him too much, but she couldn’t fool him. He’d met her at her worst, and there was no coming back from that. She had to let go of him, shut the door and walk away. Chaz was going to make some woman so incredibly happy, but it wouldn’t be Payton. She had to cut whatever this was off now, before she lost a part of herself.

  But...tomorrow.

  Right now, she was going to do something reckless. Stupid. So completely selfish. And she’d enjoy it.

  Chaz’s eyes were pressed tightly together, likely trying to ignore the erection pushing against the towel.

  They’d been pretending the tension between them hadn’t exist for years. If this was the last time she saw him, why not go out in a blaze of glory? She was nothing, if not self-destructive. It’d simply add fuel to the fire of their relationship’s undoing.

  Payton braced herself on one hand and stared down at his face, the lines around his mouth, across his brow. He had no idea the kind of influence he’d had over her. How just having him in her life had changed her. Oh, she’d fought against it pretty darn hard for a while, but he, more than anyone else, had altered the course of her life.

  She pushed her fingers through his hair, the damp strands cool to the touch.

  His eyes popped open and he stared up at her. His pupils were dilated, nostrils flared. Aroused, even if it was against his will.

  Would he kiss her back, or would he push her away?

  She’d asked herself this question for years.

  In his black-and-white world, she was his sister and anything between them would be wrong. But it wasn’t. Not one bit.

  It was beyond time to find out.

  Payton ducked her head and stroked his cheek. She heard his intake of breath, but he uttered no protest. She pressed her mouth to his hard, unyielding lips. That was okay, she’d made a study of his frowns, and now she’d taste them. Learn their shape with her tongue.

  His head tilted the slightest bit to the right.

  Oh, really?

  His tongue darted out, sliding across hers.

  She froze, wondering if he’d do it again.

  Chaz wrapped his arms around her and sat up, pulling her across his lap.

  One hand dug into her hair, the other rested against her throat while he...devoured her mouth. She held onto him, her head spinning while his lips, tongue and teeth teased her. Maybe it was pent up desire, lust or talent, but the control had shifted to his hands.

  Chaz Fairchild could kiss.

  And not just a polite, “Good night, ma’am,” kind of peck.

  Her toes were curling and her panties were most certainly not dry.

  She straddled his thighs, the better to get closer, kiss deeper. He planted a hand on her ass and hauled her against him, the hot, hard line of his erection trapped between them.

  She’d waited over ten years for this?

  What the hell was she thinking?

  Payton dug her fingers into his hair and rocked against him.

  His hands grasped her hips, holding her in place. She groaned her frustration into his mouth, but fighting him on it was pointless.

  “Payton,” he growled against her lips.

  “Don’t you dare pretend like you don’t want to kiss me.” She pulled on his hair, forcing his head back a bit so she could look him in the eyes.

  His brows were down, the lines deeper, only now he looked...hungry.

  She reached between them, grasping his cock. Inside, she quaked. Part of her wanted to run screaming to her room. The way he was looking at her...was she in over her head? She’d spent so long wanting to be right here, the reality of it was a bit overwhelming.

  Chaz covered her hand with his.

  Crap. She’d lost her window of opportunity. He was going to pat her on the head and send her away. Because that was likely the right thing to do in his world.

  His gaze bored into her skull.

  He squeezed her hand a bit tighter and slid it down, all the way to the base, then back up.

  Her mouth dried up.

  He was...he was...oh, fuck, this was how he liked to be touched.

  She dropped her gaze to their hands.

  There was too much terrycloth—hell, too much clothing in general.

  Payton shook off his grip and pushed her hand under the towel. The heat of him nearly seared her palm. Or maybe that was just how they were. She wrapped her hand around the smooth skin of his erection and swallowed. Holly hell. She’d always known he was big all over, but feeling him pulse against her hand was a whole other thing entirely.

  Chaz grunted and dug his fingers into her hair, dragging her back to his mouth.

  She didn’t know how long this sensual spell would last, when they’d bounce back to reality. She needed the fantasy, this experience, however she could get it.

  His hands tangled in her sweater dress, hauling her closer.

  She wiggled a bit, working the knit material up. It took Chaz a moment but he got the drift, pushing the dress up over her head. The moment the cool air touched her heated skin she shivered.

  At least she’d worn the pretty underwear. Which now needed to come off.

  Chaz cupped her mound, his fingers pressing her panties between her labia. She gasped and held onto his shoulders. He rubbed a single, satin-covered finger between her folds, then up over her clit. Little bursts of color erupted behind her eyelids.

  “Fucking...Payton.”

  If he was gathering his thoughts enough to speak, that was a bad sign. She wrapped her hand around his cock and pumped, smearing the bead of precome down over his skin. He pulled at her panties and bra, as if he couldn’t figure them out.

  Right.

  Less clothing, stat.

  She leaned back, giving the head of his cock a final caress for now.

  Chaz’s skin was flushed.

  Maybe all this time, she’d confused his aroused face with his angry face?

  She released the catch on her bra and flung the garment onto the floor. Her boobs were kind of her secret weapon, but he didn’t even glance down.

  His hand was back between her legs, his forearm tucked against her ass, his fingers inside of her. She lifted up on her knees, groaning. Oh, damn, but that felt good.

  “Oh!” She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails in.

  He ducked his head, licking her breast. She tilted her hips and he touched her deeper. One moment she was the one teasing him, now, she was barely hanging on. She shifted, moving with his hand as he finger fucked her.

  She’d avoided men, sex, for way too long. She was starving for touch. For this kind of connection. That it was Chaz, the one person who knew her at her worst and still treated her like she was precious... There was no hope for her. None at all.

  Payton wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on, rolling her hips, treating his fingers like they were his cock. His tongue rubbed against her nipple.

  She whimpered when she tried to say his name.

  His teeth closed down on the side of her neck, not hard, but she could barely breathe.

  Her body was too
hot, too tight. It was too much. And not enough.

  Just—just a little bit more.

  She didn’t even care that it was just his hands. It was Chaz and he was inside of her, kissing her, and she wanted to come. On him. Like this. However. Whenever.

  “Payton.” He said her name with need. Need she recognized because it was coursing through her veins now.

  She’d started with good intentions, but where Chaz was concerned, nothing was ever simple. She wanted to wrap herself up in him. She wanted to be precious. Worthy of his love. His care. She just wanted so damn bad she ached with it.

  He tightened his grip on her, forcing her up higher, his fingers deeper.

  “Look at me, Payton.”

  No, no, no, she couldn’t do that.

  “Payton.”

  She opened her eyes and stared down into Chaz’s.

  Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  She dug her nails into his shoulders and groaned. His gaze commanded her body. The muscles in her abdomen quivered. She moaned, the sound rising in pitch until she let out a keening wail that might have been his name. Her toes wiggled and colors blossomed in her vision. All because of how he touched her.

  Man, oh, man. She was ruined now. By his fingers, of all things.

  Chaz shoved the warning bell deep into his brain.

  Screw it.

  There was no going back. Not after...this.

  Truth be told, when she kissed him, he’d wanted it. Her. All of it. Had for a long freaking time, even if it was technically wrong. He had a hard time seeing how something that felt good, right even, could be bad.

  Payton’s breath fanned against his neck, her body boneless from the orgasm. His hand was still...inside of her. She was still warm, slick with arousal.

  The right thing to do would be to put some distance between them, pretend like this had never happened. Doing the right thing hadn’t gotten them anywhere except dancing around chemistry that wouldn’t go away. So, it was time to figure out exactly what it was they’d spent so long avoiding.

  He dug his hand into her silvery black hair. How it was so damn glossy and soft was beyond him. Some sort of woman magic. He lifted her head, guiding her chin up. Her gaze went straight to his, no shyness whatsoever.

  Good.