Face the Flames

by Jo Davis

  His heart was a wild thing in his chest. Twice now that murderous bastard had tried to take Melissa from him. But he wouldn’t succeed. Clay wouldn’t let him.

  After what seemed like hours, they arrived in front of her house. Clay’s throat ached to see one of the brown mares standing at the side of the house, saddled and riderless, reins dangling. They’d have to deal with her later.

  Inside, his eyes searched frantically for her—and found her slumped on the sofa, eyes closed.

  Blood. It was everywhere, coating her shirt and soaking the sofa underneath her. He cried out and rushed to her side, dropping to her knees.

  “Baby?” he yelled, cupping her face. “Melissa! Answer me!”

  A strong hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him back. Howard’s voice rumbled, “You’re not helping, so get out of the way. Right now!”

  Resisting the urge to fight back was tough. But he knew his captain was right, and moved back to let them help her.

  After an interminable wait while he paced, they had her on the gurney with an IV and heart monitor attached. “She’s stable,” Six-Pack said. “But she’s lost a lot of blood, and we need to get her rolling.”

  Nobody said a word as Clay climbed in the back next to her, opposite his captain. Tears coursed down his face unchecked, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except making sure she got help, and was okay.

  “You’re all right, baby,” he said over and over, holding her hand. “You’re fine. I’m here. I love you.”

  Howard said nothing, just did his job, taking good care of her until they arrived at Sterling.

  There, she was whisked away and he wasn’t allowed to follow. He was far too close to the situation and there was nothing to do but wait. He thought about calling his mother, but wanted to hear some news first. Charlene had been though so much and he didn’t want her sitting here for hours and getting exhausted.

  The station didn’t get another call, so the guys waited patiently for news with him. He loved them for that, and no words needed to be spoken. They had his back, always.

  A uniformed officer showed up to question them, and it didn’t take long for the news to filter to Melissa’s colleagues. Soon the waiting room was filled with detectives, and the big auburn-haired police captain from the other day.

  “Family of Melissa Ryan?” a doctor called.

  Austin stepped forward with the confidence he wore so well. “I’m Captain Austin Rainey, and Melissa Ryan is one of my detectives. She has no family, and as this pertains to an ongoing case, I’ll need a full briefing of her condition.”

  All of that wasn’t strictly true, but the doctor was swayed by the preponderance of evidence before him—the presence of half the police force.

  “Very well, come this way.” Apparently the doc’s courtesy didn’t extend to allowing everyone to eavesdrop.

  A few minutes later, Austin returned and headed straight for Clay. The others kept a respectful distance, but their ears were open.

  “She’s going to be fine,” was all Rainey had to say.

  Clay’s knees buckled, and someone pushed him into a chair. More hands pushed his head between his knees to keep him from passing out. A few moments later, he was able to sit up without spots dancing in front of his vision. Austin sat beside him, Howard on the other side.

  “The wound was clean, in the fleshy part of her upper shoulder,” Austin continued. “In and out. Looked much, much worse than it was in reality.”

  “Thank God. When can I see her?”

  “The doc said to give her an hour or so in recovery, then they’ll get her settled into a room. He said she probably wouldn’t have to stay more than a day or two, which is good. Admitting her is just a precaution, really.”

  Clay nodded, grateful beyond words. But he had to say something to Rainey and his friends. “Thank you for finding out.”

  “Hey, it was selfish on my part. I think Melissa’s very special and I wanted to be sure she was all right.”

  Clay nodded and turned to Six-Pack and his team. “Thanks, guys. I lost my cool, and I wasn’t going to be any help. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’re stuck with us,” Jamie piped up. “So you don’t get to find out.”

  The others chuckled and Clay allowed himself a small smile. She was going to be fine. That was all that mattered.

  • • •

  “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  Clay watched as Melissa’s eyes blinked open and regarded him in confusion. “What?”

  The question came out sort of garbled and he smiled, kissing her on the forehead. “Seems you had a run-in with some nasty characters. When you’re more awake, Austin and your team are here to find out what happened, okay?”

  She nodded, trying to sit up, and then grimaced. “Ow! Shit.”

  “Easy there. You took a bullet through the fleshy part of your shoulder. In and out, I was told. No permanent damage.”

  “That’s good.” She frowned, her senses slowly returning. “I remember what happened.”

  A rock formed in his gut. “Want me to get Austin?”

  “Not yet. Want to sit here and wake up for a few.”

  “Anything you want, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She clutched his hand, and after a couple of minutes, tears started running down her cheeks.

  “Hey, you’re okay. Why the tears?” He brushed them away but they kept falling.

  “They killed him. Or at least they were getting rid of him for whoever did. Probably my uncle.”

  His blood ran cold. “Who?”

  “Get Austin in here for me now, would you? And my guys, too.”

  “Sure. Be right back.” After kissing her, he left the room and rounded up her team. They followed, eager to hear what she had to say, yet dreading it at the same time.

  He knew, because he felt the same.

  “Melissa, how are you feeling?” Austin said, moving close to take her hand.

  “Well, I’m alive. That’s something, considering.”

  “We’re so glad you’re awake,” Shane said, smiling. He was still recovering from his concussion, but nothing would have kept him away. Taylor, Chris, and Tonio echoed his words as they crowded in.

  “I’m glad you guys are here,” she said, appearing touched by their concern. “I need to tell you what went down. The quicker we catch my uncle, the better.”

  “Take your time,” Taylor told her.

  She took a deep breath. “My neighbor, Jane Fowler, called earlier to tell me there had been prowlers at the back of my property the past couple of nights and I needed to check it out.”

  “And you went to investigate on your own,” Tonio growled. “Why didn’t you call somebody?”

  “I tried, but no one answered! Anyway, I went and I can’t change it.” She shuddered. “I found more than I bargained for.”

  “What, or who, was that?” Austin asked. “Your shooters?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. They were there to bury something at the back of my property, and they were doing it for my uncle. They said his name.”

  They waited, and Clay felt sick. “What was it, baby?”

  “The head of Officer Ron Nelson.”

  10

  Melissa watched Clay’s face turn gray, and her team looked just as sick as she felt.

  “Just his head?” Taylor muttered. “Fucking hell. The poor bastard.”

  “I couldn’t believe it, even though I was afraid they were there for no good reason. I didn’t expect it to be Ron, exactly, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. There were three men, and they were talking about burying something for James.”

  “Did they mention his last name?” Shane asked.

  “No,” she said with regret. “I wish they had. James is a common name, and even though we know it’s my uncle, that’
s not proof.”

  “Can you describe them?” This from Tonio.

  She did, plus what she’d seen of the trucks, which wasn’t much help. It was dark, and she hadn’t seen much very clearly. “But Ron’s face? I saw that clear as day.” Sudden urgency shot through her. “You’ve got to get some guys out to my place! They could go back anytime and remove the evidence!”

  “I’m on it,” Austin said, standing. Palming his cell, he left the room.

  “What purpose would your uncle have for targeting your property, specifically?” Shane asked thoughtfully. “You said the neighbor had noticed activity for two nights previous.”

  “Yes. I think they did that to draw my attention to the crime, and they wanted me to find Ron’s body.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “This is James Ryan we’re talking about. If he wanted the body to remain hidden, he’s got the entire countryside around us where he could’ve ditched Ron and his body never would’ve been found. But he gets my attention, and dumps it on my place.”

  “To prove he can get to you,” Taylor said in disgust.

  “Exactly.” She sighed. “He couldn’t have planned that I’d actually catch them in the act, or that his men would shoot me. By now he’s wishing they’d aimed better.”

  “That’s not funny,” Clay said, looking upset.

  “Wasn’t meant to be.”

  Clay took her hand, kissing it. He seemed to need constant contact, and that was fine by her. She needed him, too.

  Austin came back a short time later and said, “I have two officers on the scene right now. They just arrived at the area and confirmed that the bag with Officer Nelson’s head is still there.” He looked as though he wanted to vomit as he went on.

  “There were a few other bags scattered around, and they believe those contain the rest of Nelson’s body parts. The men were probably supposed to bury them all over your place and keep us busy for days. As it is, I’m hopeful they didn’t manage to do their job, and we can give his widow closure.”

  Melissa felt horrible for the man’s wife. And equally horrified that Ron had suffered such a terrible death just because her uncle was evil and out to get his niece.

  “You’re not to blame for this,” Clay said quietly, as though he’d read her mind. “None of it.”

  “That’s true,” Austin put in. “Wipe that thought out of your mind.”

  She swallowed hard. “It’s tough to remember that. Especially now.”

  There wasn’t much more to say. The distress of the situation, and her injury, had worn her out. Her lids got heavy and she yawned.

  “Sleep.” Clay kissed her cheek. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  She shut her eyes and let the terror drift away.

  • • •

  Three weeks. Three miserable weeks, two of them recovering from the wound that was stubbornly taking its time to heal and for the tenderness to fade.

  Three weeks of wanting to slice and dice her uncle’s balls and give him a taste of his own medicine.

  The two weeks off weren’t all bad, she had to concede. Clay and Charlene had taken turns babysitting her the first week after she’d been released. The second week Melissa had put her foot down and declared her independence once more. Clay was welcome to stay over at her place, but only as a lover—not a damned nursemaid.

  Grinning, he’d agreed and backed off, for the most part. When he forgot and tried to intervene, babying her too much, all she had to do was give him a pointed glare. He’d walk away whistling, stating he was just happy she was feeling well enough to be bitchy—er, assert herself.

  The lovable jerk.

  Today, he was home and feeling rather horny if the rod in his shorts was any indication. She went to find him and located him in the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge for a snack. Grinning, she sneaked up behind him and reached between his legs, cupping his balls through his shorts.

  He yelped and spun around, then laughed. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

  “It is,” she declared, winding her arms around his neck. “Make love to me, fireman.”

  “That’s a demand I can’t refuse.”

  With a gleam in his eye, he pulled her into the living room.

  • • •

  “Oh, Clay. Make love to me,” she whispered. “Now.”

  They stripped quickly, clothing flying in all directions.

  What he’d done to deserve such a priceless gift as Melissa, he didn’t know. In wonder, he skimmed his palms down the graceful curve of her neck, to her slim shoulders, careful to avoid bumping her freshly healed wound. He brushed his fingers across the swell of her breasts, her puckered little nipples. His lady.

  He rolled the taut peaks between his fingers, pinching them lightly. Bracing her weight with her hands flat on the floor, she leaned back into the front of the sofa, spreading those long legs. Offering herself to him.

  He groaned, drinking in her natural beauty as his heart pounded in anticipation. Three weeks of abstinence was forever, and he was ready. She was all silvery skin, curves of breasts, and lean hips, the dark nest of curls at the vee of welcoming thighs.

  His erection was curved toward his stomach, hot and hard. Throbbing to the point of real pain. Already, a drop of cum beaded at the head of his penis. He was eager to be buried deep, to shoot inside her heat.

  Smiling, she wrapped her fingers around his erection, stroked, swirled the pearly drop around the head of his penis. He gasped at the wonderful, wicked bolt of desire sweeping him.

  “Melissa, I’m not going to last,” he croaked. “I can’t—”

  “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t hold back.”

  Her tongue laved the tip, licking away the sticky wetness as she continued to pump his shaft. He shuddered, balls tightening, the heat rising in his loins, on the verge of losing control too soon. Her other hand found his sac, kneaded gently, and his breathing hitched.

  Unable to help himself, he let his gaze drift down to watch. The sight nearly undid him. Beautiful Melissa, kneeling between his spread legs. Working his cock with her silky touch, her warm, wet little mouth. Taking obvious enjoyment in reducing him to a mindless puddle. Demanding all of him.

  Oh, yeah. She can have me. Whenever, however she wants.

  She took his length deep, sheathing his cock to the very base. He buried his hands in her wild hair, closing his eyes in ecstasy. Hers now. All hers.

  “Melissa . . . oh, fuck!”

  He pumped his hips slowly, in tandem to the pull of her sweet mouth. She sucked eagerly, teeth scraping, tongue sweeping the ridge of his penis. So damned good. He wanted more. Harder, deeper. How could she take all of him? He never wanted to hurt her.

  Then he wasn’t capable of thinking anymore. She grabbed his hips, urging his thrusts. There was nothing but the rising throb of heat threatening to burst him into a million shards. Blow him apart.

  He gave himself over to the woman he loved.

  With a hoarse cry, he stiffened. Shot into her throat, pumping on and on. Riding the waves crashing through him until he stood trembling on legs that barely held him upright.

  When the last of the aftershocks had faded, she released him and wiped her mouth with the edge of her discarded shirt. She looked at him with a saucy grin, and his heart turned over.

  Love swelled in his chest, and fierce protectiveness. Given the chance, he’d send that son of a bitch uncle of hers straight to hell.

  “Mmm,” she purred, slanting him a sexy look. “I loved doing you. You’ve corrupted me.”

  “Then I’ll consider my job well done.”

  She laughed. “I love you, Clay Montana.”

  Joy burst in his soul. “I love you more, baby.”

  She was a miracle.

  Taking her chin, he kissed her. Reveled in the dark flavor of himself on her
lips. Him, and no one else. Ever again. The knowledge aroused him all over again, his softened cock waking anew.

  He laid Melissa back gently on the floor, following her down. Cradling her, he pressed butterfly kisses to her lips, nose, chin, forehead. She rested a hand on top of his head, running his hair through her fingers, and he loved the sensation.

  Dipping lower, he turned his attention to her breasts. Capturing one tight pebble in his teeth, he groaned, sucking it. Feasting like the starving man he was. She arched into him, gripping his head, gasping encouragement. He swirled one peak, then the other, as one hand skimmed down her flat belly.

  His fingers found the springy nest of fiery curls, and lower still, to her wet sex. Her thighs parted for him, hips urging his touch. He stroked the hot, sensitive nub, the pouting lips, slick and ready for him. Suckled her breasts, teased her clit until she writhed, unable to take any more.

  “Clay, please,” she moaned, yanking his hair. “I need you inside me.”

  He needed no further encouragement. Positioning his body over hers, he guided the tip of his cock to her moist opening. Worked it in slow, making certain he wouldn’t hurt her.

  And in one long, delicious stroke, pushed deep. Her tight sheath gripped his cock with silken heat. She clutched his shoulders as he began to pump in as far as possible, his balls rubbing against her bottom. God, he always relished the feeling of being buried inside her. Then out, inch by wicked inch. Skin deep, inside her again. Wanting to crawl in and never come out. Fusing their souls.

  Never, ever anything like this. The power of their connection shook him. Humbled him. She was a gift, a treasure. Mindful of her healing shoulder, he held her close, making sweet love to her. That’s what she deserved, and he gave her all the love he had.

  Her nails dug into his back. “Oh, yes, yes. Faster!”

  He came undone, clutching her tight, thrusting hard, their bodies slapping together. Hot, blazing, burning him up. Higher and higher. Gonna explode . . .

  “Come with me, baby,” he demanded.

  Hips bucking, she cried out. Her release shattered him. Seated deep, he let her carry him over the edge, into oblivion. Her orgasm milked his cock as he spurted into her, harder than before. More than he’d thought possible.