It was late. So very late. Well past midnight.
Ronin should have been home hours ago.
He wasn’t answering his phone. He hadn’t been all day. Knowing he was in the mountains didn’t really help soothe her panic. There was probably no signal whatsoever where he was, so him not picking up didn’t really mean anything. But it just sounded so foreboding every time it went straight to his voicemail.
And, oh God, that storm that blew through. High wind could do some nasty shit to a forest fire. All she could think about, it seemed, were all the stories of firefighters getting caught in a wild blaze.
Please, let him be okay.
Her concentration kept her tense, her muscles tightly holding her son close. The desperate pleas rushed through her head, blocking everything else. Time didn’t exist. The world had stopped turning. Everything was frozen in an aching eternity.
At first, she didn’t realize the sound was real. She almost thought her mind was making it up because she wanted so badly to hear his keys in the front door. In disbelief, she held her breath. Her heart stopped.
And then she heard the faint click of the latch.
Oh my God.
Dreamlike, Devin quickly and carefully rose, in a smooth motion to avoid waking Rion. Gently, she laid him down in the crib, tugging a soft blanket up to his tiny ribs. His little lips pursed as his hand brushed across his cheek, and he turned his head, latching onto his tiny pink thumb in his sleep.
In a daze, Devin heard a footstep at the threshold of the front door, and she spun around, rapidly padding down the hall to the front door.
And there he stood. His eyes dim with exhaustion, soot and dirt covering his clothes, his face, and his ball cap. Residue of the flame retardant dropped by planes dusted along his whole left side, from the bright fluorescent Nomex of his shirt down along his jeans. Dropping his bag on the floor and tossing his keys on a small table by the front door, he turned to face her. His haggard demeanor softened at the panic in her eyes.
“Dev,” he whispered hoarsely, “honey… ”
With a sob, Devin rushed over to him, throwing herself into his arms. She wrapped herself around him, burying her face in his neck as the tide of her tears rushed forth. All her fear, the terror of the last few hours, released in a wave of emotion that had her trembling. Unable to speak, barely able to breathe through the tears, she melded herself against his solid, muscular frame. Tired as he was, he pulled her close, lifting her feet off the floor to breathe deeply into her hair as though she was the air he needed to survive.
For a while, neither moved. Neither spoke. Devin's quiet sniffles sounded amplified in the stillness of the room. Slow, shaky breathing expanded Ronin's chest as he held her close, her feet dangling limply inches from the floor.
Finally, Ronin lowered her to stand before him. His hands cradled her cheeks and he searched her eyes.
“It's okay, baby,” he whispered. “Don’t cry… ”
“I'm just… God, I'm so glad you're home,” she hoarsely ground out. “I was so worried. I couldn’t reach you. Your phone kept going to voicemail and… ”
“There’s never a good signal in the mountains,” he smiled sadly as he lifted his head. The exhaustion cast his hazel eyes in a soft light.
“You’re filthy,” she softly noted, brushing her fingers along his cheek that was caked with dirt and sweat. “Why do you have this red stuff all over you?”
“We ended up a little closer to the fire than we should have been. That storm…” his words caught in his throat for a minute, and he hoarsely exhaled. “That storm kind of gave us a run for our money.”
“Oh my God,” Devin whimpered. “How close?”
Her eyes scoured all his exposed skin, noting some mild reddening here and there along the edges of his t-shirt, along his neck. The pungent smell of smoke surrounded him.
“Too close,” he muttered as he pulled her tightly up against him.
For a long while, he just held her tightly against him, and she relished in the feel of his strong arms. His steady heartbeat. The slightly congested movement of the air in his lungs. When she brought her face up, he smiled down at her, looking a little less shell-shocked and slightly more at ease. His heavy hand brushed the wetness from her cheek, his eyebrows furrowing at the dingy smudge of dirt his fingers left behind.
“I’m getting you all dirty and stinky, baby,” he softly said.
A tremble shook her voice as she spoke. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” she softly urged.
Ronin nodded, and Devin stepped back to take his hand, leading him down the hallway to the bathroom.
She lifted her fingers to undo the buttons of his shirt, slowly working them free until she was able to push the soft fabric from his shoulders. A dark bruise lay just beside his collarbone, and she studied it, brow knitted in concern, before she lifted to her tiptoes to gently kiss the darkened blotch of skin. She turned to the shower, quickly starting the spray, not too cool, yet not so hot as to irritate the reddened skin that had been exposed to the blaze.
Confident that she'd found a soothing temperature, Devin turned back to him. She removed his hat, setting it on the countertop, then loosened his belt and undid his fly. She worked quickly, alternating assisting him with pulling her own loose T-shirt and shorts from her body, until they had both been stripped bare. Devin then took his hand and pulled him with her as she stepped backwards into the shower.
Her fingertips glided over his skin, soothing the angry burns with the sweet, cool freshness of the soap. She lathered up his hair, massaging his scalp until his eyes drifted closed in the bliss of her gentle touch. He allowed her to take care of him, to wash away the stress and worry of the last few hours, to let it flow down the drain.
And as the charred marks began to disappear, Ronin pulled her close, brushing his lips against her forehead. She lifted her gaze to meet his, his hazel eyes speaking of love and thanks. She kissed him, slowly with all the love in her heart.
Gradually, her touch became needy. His hands clutched her to him as their kiss deepened. A sweet swirl of his tongue drew a ragged moan from deep in Devin's chest, and she pressed into his arms, melding their skin together.
“Come to bed,” she whispered against his lips. “I need you, Ronin. I need you to be alive inside me.”
“Can’t wait that long, Dev,” he groaned in response. His heavy hands slid down her slick, smooth hips, cupping her bottom and lifting as he pressed her against the shower wall. Devin's legs curled around his waist, and her arms tightened over his broad shoulders. She felt his hard length pressing against her sex, then slipping inside, filling her, burying himself in her silky depths.
The tiles felt cool on her back, contrasting sharply with the heat of his body as he began to gently thrust. With a gasp, Devin pulled her lips scarcely away from his, their breath mingling in the steam around them. Raspy cries formed in her throat and escaped into the small space as Ronin began to move faster, firmly gripping her curves, driving into her with a warm slap of skin. The pressure built inside her, and her body began to tremble and tighten around him. And then, with a jagged moan, Ronin poured his love inside her, all but collapsing as he pressed her shaking body into the tile wall.
“I don’t think I should move for a while,” he murmured against the shell of her ear.
“Why's that?" she breathlessly asked.
“I'm afraid without this wall holding us up, my legs will give out on me.” His voice tickled at her skin, rough and lax all at once. “I'd probably take you down with me.”
“You must be exhausted,” Devin whispered.
“I was, and then I just came like a motherfucker. I doubt there's a drop of liquid left in my body.”
Devin gave a soft giggle. “If you let go of my legs, I'll help support you.”
“Not yet. I'm not done being inside that sexy little pussy of yours yet, baby,” he growled. “I could've died today. Give me a few more minutes in my favorite place on earth.”
/>
So she did.
Chapter 6 ~ Orion the Hunter
Ronin could hear the faint infant grumblings of his son in the other room. Devin was deep in a heavy sleep, her face still showing the concern and exhaustion that had been so evident the minute he walked through the door. Wanting to allow her to rest, he disentangled himself from her arms, kissing her on the nose as she gave an incoherent mumble. He could tell by the quiet fussing that Rion wasn’t totally awake yet, so he quickly made up a warm bottle.
Rion was just barely starting to cry as Ronin reached down to pull the little guy from his bed. He quickly diapered him and then nestled into the rocking chair, tucking the little body along his arm as he tilted the bottle into place. Rion’s little fingers closed around one of his larger ones, and Ronin marveled at the baby’s delicate little grip.
“How’s my little hero, tonight?” he smiled down at his tiny face. “My little Orion. So strong.”
The baby stared at him with wide eyes, hungrily smacking at the bottle.
“You’re named for quite the badass, you know. A big tough dude who was always out hunting with his dogs. All the women loved him, which bodes well for you. He saved the life of a goddess. What a stud, huh?" Ronin's fingertip traced along the silken tuft of brown hair that stuck out on top of Rion's head. “Unfortunately, he wasn’t the most humble, so that’s something you’ll want to watch out for. Don’t go starting a fight you can’t finish. No matter how big and strong you are, there will always be someone a little bigger and a little stronger.”
Rion’s little jaw went slack as he nearly emptied the bottle. Ronin lifted him up to his shoulder, patted him on the back until he let out a tiny baby belch, and then settled the infant back into the crook of his arm. In the darkened room, lit only by a small globe that cast constellations on the walls and ceiling, he softly murmured to his son.
“See, Orion the Hunter was kind of showing off for Artemis and Leto. Boasting about how tough he was. That he could kick anyone’s butt. He was kind of asking for trouble…”
Devin woke with a start. She was in bed, alone. For a second or two, her sleep-addled mind seized, almost fearful that Ronin's return home last night had been nothing but a dream conjured up by her consuming fear.
She faintly remembered sliding down from Ronin in the shower, using a large towel to dry his bulky frame. She had stepped into Rion's room for a moment while Ronin brushed his teeth, checking to make sure their boy was sleeping soundly. His thumb had fallen from his little mouth, and faint, deep breathing sounded ever so slightly in the room. Then Ronin stepped up behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder and curving his arms around her terry cloth covered waist. Devin turned her head towards him, softly placing a kiss along his jaw before nuzzling her forehead against his chin, which moved him to press a soft kiss to her brow. Then, the two of them turned as one to their room to fall fast asleep in each other’s arms, tucked into the haven of their bed.
She hadn’t heard him rise, hadn’t realized he was restless. Her own exhaustion after the stress of the day before had been alleviated by the numbing relief that he was safe, that she had been able to touch and taste him.
She slipped from bed, threw on one of Ronin’s soft flannel shirts, and stepped out of their bedroom into the hall to hear a deep, gentle murmur drift peacefully from Orion’s room. A soft glow filtered from the slightly open door. Taking a step closer, Devin saw a sliver of Ronin through the doorway, sitting in the rocking chair, feet up on a low stool with one thick forearm wrapped around their drowsy baby boy.
Ronin’s own eyelashes lay almost flat against his cheek as his face pressed against the soft fuzz of his son's tiny head. Devin leaned against the slightly open doorframe and listened to the hushed timbre of Ronin’s voice.
“…Anyway, the Earth Mother wasn’t impressed and sent a big scorpion after him. The scorpion turned towards Artemis, and Orion jumped in to fight the scorpion. He ended up getting killed, but he did manage to save Artemis. So Zeus put Orion and the scorpion up in the sky, far away from each other so they couldn’t fight anymore.” Ronin raised his head a little to look down at his son. “The things guys will do for women, right?” he rumbled softly. “Just try to keep your cool a little better than your namesake, okay? No fighting giant scorpions for you. Got it?”
Through the whole story, Rion was transfixed on the deep intones of Ronin's voice, the movement of his lips. The little face appeared thoughtful, in spite of the fact that he was only two months old. As though he was absorbing the advice his dad was giving him.
“I wonder if you have any idea how much I love you, little guy?” Ronin murmured to the tiny infant, running one finger down the velvety soft little round cheek. Rion’s tiny little eyes peered back up at him curiously, and he emitted a quiet little grunt in response.
Before long, the baby’s eyes, once so intent on studying him closely, began to drift closed. Those tiny lips pursed and moved faintly and the warmth of his little form began to settle against Ronin’s arm into a heavy, deep sleep. And still Ronin continued to watch him, as though he was mesmerized by the perfection. Amazed that he’d had a part in creating this being.
As Ronin’s head once again settled against the back of the rocking chair, his eyes flickered over Devin standing in the doorway. His lips tilted up on one side, giving her a tired, contented smile.
“Orion woke up,” he gently murmured in a low, warm voice. “I was telling him about the stars, but I don’t know that he was that terribly impressed.”
She took a few more steps and knelt on the floor beside the chair, placing her small hand over his as it rested on their son’s little tummy. She laid her head on his leg, and sighed as his hand lifted from underneath hers to gently stroke the tousled strands of hair from her cheeks.
“You've got to be exhausted,” Devin finally smiled softly. “Why don’t you go to bed, and I'll feed him and follow you.”
Ronin nodded to the mostly empty bottle on the end table beside him. “He just had a bottle,” he softly said. “I kinda figured you could use some rest yourself based on how freaked you looked when I got home tonight.”
“I was a little freaked,” she admitted in a small voice. She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes a clear reflection of the turmoil she’d felt. “I was worried about the love of my life.”
Tucking Rion up against his chest, Ronin eased out of the chair and leaned over to lay their son back into his bed. Then he turned back to give Devin a hand up, and he wrapped her slight frame in his arms. He buried his face into her hair and whispered softly.
“It’s okay, Dev. It’s all okay now…”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he tightened his own hold on her. “It wasn’t, though,” she whispered.
“No, it wasn’t,” he admitted.
Devin pulled her head back and tipped her eyes up to his with worry. A shudder ran through her as she thought about how close he actually had come. He dropped one arm and gathered her to his side with the other, moving them out of Rion’s room, stopping for a second to pull the door mostly closed behind them. He guided her back into their room. He unbuttoned the flannel shirt she’d hastily slipped on, and then slipped the soft fabric from her shoulders.
“I was a little scared I’d never see you again,” he finally whispered, as he touched his lips to hers gently. “I was scared for you, for Rion.”
Devin stepped back, pulling him towards the bed with her as she climbed into the pile of blankets and flannel sheets.
“Will you tell me what happened?” she asked. “Not knowing… it’s killing me. When that storm blew over the mountains…” Her voice trailed off, as though the fear still gripped her by the throat. As though the last few hours hadn’t even existed and she was afraid that, by saying her fears aloud, he might disappear into a dream.
Ronin stripped off his flannel pants and slipped into the blankets with her, pulling her smooth, soft body against his. He traced his fingertips from her sh
oulder slowly down to her hip. And finally, in the dim starlight of their room, he quietly spoke.
“When that storm came up, the wind shifted and everything just… fuck… Suddenly the fire was roaring right towards us.” His lips brushed against her forehead, pressing a tender kiss at her temple before he continued. “I've never heard anything like it, Dev. I’ve been doing this every summer since high school, working the fire lines. But this was crazy. It was like standing by the railroad tracks when a freight train is going by. Like a booming thunder that never ends, that just kept getting louder as it raged towards us way too fast.”
Devin’s fingertips trailed a soothing caress along his ribs, gliding up to the dense, taut muscle of his shoulder, then feathered down his bicep, willing away the tension she could still sense in his body.
“We had been digging a fire line along some new growth,” Ronin explained slowly, “where the trees were a little smaller and more green. It was a fair ways from the main fire, maybe a little over a mile away when the storm hit, across the ridge. But the fire line was far from done.” He shook his head in a bit of awestruck wonder. “I’ve never seen a fire move that fast before. A couple of the guys wanted to go off in a different direction, and they started down into a canyon, but the way the fire was spreading, that ravine would have turned into oven. We’d have all died had we gone down there.”
A thick, rough ache had settled in Devin’s throat at the tone of his voice. There was a helplessness, yet a determination. The responsibility of these men under his charge. The need to come home safe for her and their son.
“The only thing I could think, the only thing I could hope, was to start a backfire. That it might get drawn towards the main fire by the drafts. It would give us a little room… a place to hunker down if the fire overcame us.”
Devin shivered at the thought, and Ronin’s arm tightened gently around her shoulders.
Littler Conversations (Conversations #1.5) Page 5