Scorch (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 6)

by Piper Stone

  He kept his head positioned over hers, his lips lightly touching. “All mine.”

  There was nothing more powerful than his two words and the meaning behind them. She allowed herself to let go, to fall into the incredible blanket of lust as well as his command. She was surrendering to the man she could lose her heart to.

  Kissing her lips, he darted his tongue inside, holding the stance as he drove in harder. Faster.

  She knew he was close to coming. Closing her eyes, she squeezed her cunt muscles until his body began to shake, the force of his actions pushing her hard against the bedding. Just when she thought he was going to release, he rolled her over, cupping her breasts, his expression decidedly evil.

  “Ride me, sweetheart. Finish it.” Reaching up, he wrapped his hands around the headboard posts, a wry smile remaining on his face. “Ride me hard.”

  Palming his chest, she clenched her legs against his heated body as she rocked forward and backward, allowing her long hair to dangle across his shoulders.

  “You’re so wet,” he managed, his mouth twisting as he closed his eyes.

  “You’re so hard,” she purred and picked up the pace. The angle was different, creating a new set of shivers and she lost her breath as the pleasure shot into ecstasy.

  Harder. Faster. She wanted him to come deep inside.

  He groaned and jutted his hips, meeting every rocking motion. “I’m going to come. Come with me. Come with…” His words trailing off, he jerked his head up as his legs shook violently.

  She could feel the orgasm rushing inside. Echoes of their passion bounced in her ears and she threw her head back. The moment he let out a wild cry, she released. “Sawyer!”

  “Yes…” The single word trailing off, he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, his chest heaving.

  Falling against his chest, she caressed his skin as the electric vibes continued dancing, trickling through every cell in her body. She knew. She had no doubt. She would be forced to admit. She was already falling in love.

  And she was utterly terrified.

  Sawyer stood just outside the hospital room, waiting as if needing permission. He knew Mike’s condition had been upgraded to stable, at least for now. He hated being in hospitals. He loathed the concept of those he cared about being sick or worse. His time spent in a hospital room just like this one, cold and bleak, when his parents had succumbed to illness, his father an agonizing death had taken a significant toll.

  At least his mother had gone peacefully, only five days after she’d learned of the death of his father. Her husband. The only man she’d ever loved.

  He wrung his hands as he did everything he could to convince himself to go inside. His thoughts drifted to Reese and the sensations he’d experienced the night before. While he’d purposely kept his thoughts that someone had been standing outside his house, you bet he did a full sweep of the area surrounding it. There was no indication that he’d had a visitor, nothing to back up his fears. But he knew. You bet he knew.

  He’d also taken a few minutes to Google the man she was so terrified of. Walker Tatum was by every account an upstanding citizen, but if he’d murdered those women, and in the manner depicted, the man was a true monster. The press had already crucified him and immediately after release, the man had gone into hiding. Reese hadn’t provided any details, but her terror was palpable.

  At least she was taking a few days off. Whether or not they would spend the time together remained to be seen. She was her own woman and they weren’t in a relationship. Or were they? The thought finally giving him a smile, he shored up his nerve and walked into the room. Peering down at Mike, he hadn’t noticed how much the man had aged. His buddy was a solid five years older, if not more, and today, he seemed haggard, as if his career had ripped away at his very soul.

  Why his old buddy hadn’t contacted him upon his return to Missoula was digging at his mind, peeling away at the layers of protection he’d locked into place. They’d been best friends, sharing everything together, including Mike’s first and only marriage. He’d even heard about the divorce from mutual friends. Yeah, they’d both moved on after the fateful, disastrous day on the ridge, claiming a need for change. Hell, they were both trying to flee from the grim reaper. At least in their minds.

  The tubes sticking out of Mike’s arm were telling enough. His condition was precarious, his leg in a cast, his heart condition unknown. The kind of work they did could mean an early grave.

  Retirement. The word jetted into his mind. He could understand Boone’s thoughts. Every jumper he’d ever known had craved the danger, the adrenaline rush that always came with the work, but the end results could be disastrous. How many good men and women had retired early since he’d started? A hell of a lot. His answer?

  No fucking clue.

  He needed to process the concept further given the captain would force an answer soon enough. How was he supposed to make such a decision at this point? He walked toward the window, glaring outside. A fantastic view of the dilapidated parking lot. Even the hospital seemed second rate, as if his friend didn’t have the appropriate insurance.

  Shit. How could he? Everyone working for the city had taken a cut in benefits while the costs had continued to increase. Standing here grousing wasn’t doing his buddy any good. He’d come back later. He walked toward the door and for the life of him, he couldn’t free himself of the depression.

  “Going so fast?” Mike’s voice wasn’t the strong baritone that Sawyer had remembered.

  “You were sleeping on the job, buddy.” Planting a smile on his face, he tipped his head, winking.

  “Yeah, well this time, I have a good excuse. How are the guys?”

  “They’re fine. Cuts and bruises. You’re the one in the hospital.” Walking closer, he could see more than pain from a difficult medical condition crossing Mike’s face. “Lookin’ rough there, buddy.” He half smiled.

  “You’re not the sexy hotshot you used to be either,” Mike teased.

  Sawyer shook his head. “No, you’re right about that. Scary shit.”

  “Yeah. Damn glad you were there.” Mike huffed and attempted to sit up, wincing from the movement. “I hate this shit. Look at this leg. I won’t be able to work.”

  “You need your rest.”

  “I need a new heart.” Mike rolled his eyes as soon as he issued the statement. “Don’t go spouting that shit off either.”

  Exhaling, Sawyer walked closer, tugging the chair closer and sitting down. “What’s wrong, Mike?”

  He hesitated before answering, darting a quick glance to the door. “Heart condition. Been on medication for almost two years. Thought the damn doctors had it under control.”

  “Does your captain know?”

  “Banyon? I guess he will now,” Mike grumbled under his breath. “I wanted another chance. Just one more. That’s why I came back. That’s the only reason I came back.”

  “But you should have told him.” Mike’s words were biting. They’d completely lost any connection they once had.

  “Yeah, I hear you. I was feeling great. I passed every physical and there were no issues. Even my doctor was surprised how well I was doing. Until yesterday.”

  “Do the doctors have any idea what happened?” Sawyer wasn’t certain he wanted to know.

  “Not really. Stress. Adrenaline. Bad medicine. I’ve heard several scenarios. I think it’s just my ticker threatening to give out on me.” Mike smiled weakly. “So how you doing? I’ve heard amazing things about the Jackals.”

  “Great team together. Good guys, all of them.”

  “Glad to hear it. I asked around about you, ya know.”

  Sawyer shifted in his seat. “How long have you been in town?”

  Mike hesitated again, a sheepish look crossing his face. “Five months.”

  “Five months? Why didn’t you…” He couldn’t even finish the question.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to see me. Not after the way I left. I almost picked up the
phone at least a dozen times, but I had no idea what I was going to say to you. Hey, I ran away because of the guilt and almost killing you.”

  “Mike, we were both there that day.”

  “Yeah. We were. But you didn’t allow a woman to die. You were the same hero every day. Relentless no matter the level of danger. You know what? I admired that in you. I didn’t have it in me. I still don’t.”

  Swallowing hard, Sawyer had to look away to catch his breath. “The rope failed. That’s what happened.”

  “That’s bullshit. If I’d grabbed the right equipment, the tragedy wouldn’t have occurred. You know that. So, did every other smokejumper there that day. I’m the cause of that woman’s death.”

  The words rang in the dense room, swirling around them.

  “You can’t relive the past, Mike. You have to move forward. We survived.”

  “I almost killed you, Sawyer. My best buddy. Do you think there isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about that damn incident? I just…” Mike clenched his eyes shut. “I can’t get over the nightmares. I’ve tried. Believe me. I ran away. I lost my team. My wife. I started drinking. Nothing worked. The dreams never left me.”

  A quiet tension slipped between them.

  “You need your rest. I just wanted to make certain you were doing okay.” Sawyer half jerked to his feet, his heart weighing heavy, bile rising in his throat, constricting his breathing.

  “You know my career is over. Right?”

  Sawyer let out a deep breath. “You don’t know that yet. Talk to Captain Banyon. I know he’s a decent man. I work with a couple of guys who served under him.”

  Mike chuckled, the sound hollow. “Even if the captain allows me back for a desk job, might not have a job anyway.”

  “What does that mean?” He thought about what Captain Phillips had said earlier.

  “Engine 12 is targeted to shut down. The building is old, just like half the damn crew, and the renovation costs aren’t in the budget. The great mayor has no idea what a decision like this will do to the team. Nor does she give a shit. And no one will hire me after this stint. Not a single damn station. And who knows about my leg. My career will be in the toilet, and I barely have enough money to pay the rent, let alone any medical bills.”

  “That bad?” Sawyer wasn’t certain he wanted to know the answer.

  He shrugged, his expression full of rage. “My fault for running away from my real life. I’ll be homeless within six months.”

  There were no right words to offer to Mike or any of resolution anyway. “Take it a day at a time. It’s not the mayor who can or will shut down the engine companies.”

  “How the hell do you know that?”

  “The state makes these kinds of decisions. Engine 12 isn’t the only one. That much I’ve heard.”

  “Well, groovy. I guess I’ll just wait for the rug to be pulled out from under me.”

  There was such bitterness in his voice, such intense anger. Sawyer realized he had mixed feelings about the situation, as well as the man. He’d remained angry for two years, if not longer, after the tragedy and yes, he’d blamed his friend for what had transpired, at least at first. “Take it easy, Mike. We’ll talk after you get out of the hospital. Might be some things I can suggest. Trust Captain Banyon. He’s a good guy.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I appreciate what you did for me yesterday. I’d like to grab that beer when I get out,” Mike half whispered, the sound more hopeful.

  “Then we’ll do that. You know how to get in touch with me.”

  “I do. Thanks again. I’m glad I got to see you.”

  Sawyer’s heart was heavy, and he tried to hold back the emotions bursting at the seams as he walked toward the door. The way Mike muttered the words was reminiscent of a final goodbye.

  “Sawyer. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I never said that to you all those years ago and I should have. If I could go back to that day, I’d give my life instead of that young girl losing hers.”

  “I know, buddy. I know.” The moment he walked out the door, a cold wave of guilt and despair hit him hard. Gulping for air, he fell against a wall as tears slipped out of his eyes. He was no leader.

  He was a lousy coward.

  Wiggle. Wiggle. Reese was unable to stop. She’d purposely worn a skirt with a heavier material so that she could feel the burn of her two spankings. The entire night had been amazing. They’d made love three times, one right after the other. Lying exhausted in his arms, she’d managed to get a couple hours sleep. Then the way he’d awakened her? Delicious. She had to fight to keep from giggling as she sashayed into her office building, purposely thirty minutes late. Yes, she was pushing the boundaries, but what the hell? She’d won a high-profile case. That should allow her some benefits.

  Other than letting a madman loose.

  Sawyer had convinced her to arrive at work and let Roger know she was taking time off. The time allotted would allow her to think about the future. Belly dancing was sounding better and better. They’d both caught the morning news. Ugly. Demanding answers. Screaming for justice. This seemed the theme of the week and her name was plastered all over it. This wasn’t her idea of fame.

  She gripped her briefcase as she walked through the main door of her law firm and could swear every attorney as well as the various assistants were standing in their doors, watching her. Judging her. What the fuck? By the time she got to within two feet of her office, she could swear a vacuum sucked up all the air around her. There was a presence. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “Miss Winton? Good of you to finally arrive. I need to see you in my office.” He tapped his watch, a slight shake to his head.

  Hearing the grinding noise of Roger Gant’s voice meant one thing. She was in trouble for how she handled the case. It wasn’t enough that she’d gotten a murderer off. Now, she was supposed to make amends for some other indiscretion? “I’ll be there in five minutes, sir.”

  “Now, Winton. This can’t wait.”

  Dropping her briefcase just inside her door, she trailed behind him, hearing what had to be laughter coming from several of the offices. They were laughing at her? She would crack a bottle over their heads. When she walked in, the man was pacing. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Close the door.”

  She eased the door closed and remained standing as well as quiet.

  “You did very well in court yesterday. Spot on closing. I must admit, I had my doubts, but you did a damn nice job. I even had a call from the congressman.”

  The air was sucked out of her. Well, if the congressman called, life was perfect. She bit back the nasty retort. “Well. Thank you. I guess.”

  “I know you have your doubts about that kid, but the evidence proved he was not the killer.” Roger was pacing the floor, rubbing his jaw. “You did your job as required.”

  “Did you know why Walker wanted to see me?” Reese half laughed. She thought about his words, as if chosen carefully.

  “No, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

  “It might to his father. Walker said in no uncertain terms that Congressman Tatum was the murderer. I must admit, the concept is creative.”

  Roger narrowed his eyes. “You know that Richard and I are friends. We have been since law school. Walker was always difficult. As an only child and given his father was away more than he was at home, the kid developed a wild imagination. That doesn’t make him a killer. He is quite dramatic, but I’ve known Walker a long time. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What you did was a very ethical thing.”

  Ethical? The word seemed out of place. Even his smile was less plastic, maybe even laced with some hint of relief. And she had another less than stellar thought. What other shoe was going to drop?

  “I appreciate very much. I’d like to take a few days off. I haven’t taken any vacation days and honestly, I need some time.”

  “I can sympathize.”

  Sympathize? She sucked on her bottom lip.

  Roger shot her a
look before shaking his head. “No can do. No time.”

  “What? The other case I’m working on won’t go to trial for at least a month.” Whining wasn’t her style.

  “I know that, but you’ve just been assigned another high-profile case that is a huge bone of contention for Missoula. The powers that be are pushing this one forward. Hard. They want it out of their hair as soon as possible. Given the circumstance, you’re the only one who can handle the politics around this. I need you on this one.” He smiled, his curt nod offering a level of respect.

  Which she didn’t anticipate. He needed her to do this. Whoa. Wait a minute. The red flags were flying high. “What case?”

  “Katrina Dreyfus.”

  She shrunk back, the details of the case spouted to her over several bottles of tequila. Stasha remained traumatized by her experience of being abducted by a member of the Dreyfus family. Reese had been privy to details that could possibly help in the woman’s defense and she refused to dishonor her friend’s private information in any manner. Then there was Boone, Sawyer’s best friend, his house being torched. She rejected the idea of betraying her friends. “Isn’t she the chick who tortured and attempted to kill a local veterinarian, blew up a smokejumper’s house and assorted other horrific crimes all while working with her brother? No, brothers as in plural and one remains at large?”

  “You have most of the details correct. Convoluted mess in truth. The charges are torture, arson, attempted murder and espionage. Miss Dreyfus had the entire town convinced she was just another pretty little cowgirl. Even used her boyfriend to garner information. Poor dumb kid. He’s facing serious jail time.”

  “So, you know she’s guilty. Then why are we taking on the case?”

  “Because the Dreyfus family attorney heard that you’d defended Mr. Tatum. I had a call ten minutes after the verdict was read.”

  “Which means not a single other law firm wanted the case.”

  “Does it matter? They are paying clients.”

  No doubt very well paying clients Reese snorted. “This just gets better and better. Assign it to someone else, Roger. Bart can handle this or even Sara. She’s tenacious and will eat this alive. Besides, I don’t want these kinds of cases following me around. I’d like to actually defend someone who deserves it.” She was far too exasperated to handle this right now. Roger had to be kidding that she’d consider taking another case like this. And just how low could the man sink?