Saved by the Firefighter

by Rachel Brimble

  But she was still so scared to love a man who leaped into flames every day. A man who risked his life over and over in the same infernos that took her brother and his sister.

  “No.” She placed her hands flat on his chest. “I can’t.”

  He gently cupped his hands to her jaw. “Look at me. See me. Please.”

  He ran his gaze over her face, lingering at her lips before looking deep into her eyes, begging, pleading...

  The moment his lips touched hers, she was his. Her body lit with the fire she feared yet had no way of extinguishing. She clung to him, held him. She slipped her tongue eagerly into the warmth of his mouth as her skin tingled with the sensation of his hands cherishing every inch of her waist, her hips, all the way up and over her body to tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck.

  “Izzy. Let me love you.” He dropped his mouth to the curve of her neck and lower to her collarbone.

  “Yes.” The word whispered from between her lips, her body trembling with need.

  He met her eyes, their dark depths seeking permission and assurance. “Do you really see me?”

  She nodded. “I see only you.”

  He smiled and she lifted her hand to the back of his neck to bring him closer and claim his mouth once more. They took and devoured, battled and surrendered until she drew back to catch her breath.

  She gave him a gentle shove backward and tugged her shirt from her jeans. Live for now. Be happy. The words resonated in her head and, one by one, she slipped open her buttons. The shirt brushed over her shoulders and fell to the hardwood floor. This time she saw the man, the hero, the caretaker and her very own savior. Trent wasn’t everyone’s firefighter and he wasn’t Mr. April. He was hers.

  Fingers shaking, she unhooked her bra.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SHE WAS BEAUTIFUL.

  Trent kissed her as Izzy clung to his biceps, making him feel needed and trusted, her tongue firm and wanting in his mouth. But as desperate as he was to take her, he was all too aware of what this surrender meant to her.

  He had to show her he’d take care of her, would honor her trust and love her as he’d promised.

  Reluctantly, he eased his lips from hers to stare into her huge, blue eyes, now dark with desire. He had to see her love, her truth. Her cheeks flushed and her lips glistened ruby red. He inhaled the rich scent of her perfume.

  She smiled, her gaze so soft with love that his heart pounded with relief, his chest hurting. Slipping his hand from hers, he bent over to unbuckle his cumbersome steel-capped boots. He glanced toward her as she kicked off her ballet flats.

  Once he’d discarded his boots and socks, she held out her hand. “Come with me.”

  Straightening, he clasped her hand. He would’ve followed her to the ends of the earth. She tugged him toward a closed door at the back of the studio. His gaze roamed over her back, down to her tight, perfect ass cruelly covered in denim. She pushed open the door and flicked on a lamp on a side table. The small, neat office was bathed in a soft amber light and she turned, reaching onto her toes to gently pull his bottom lip between her teeth before clasping the nape of his neck and bringing his mouth closer.

  She kissed him, her exhalation whispering softly into his mouth. The agony of waiting for her stretched Trent’s patience to breaking, but still he waited. She reached for his trousers and unzipped them, her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers busy releasing him from his boxers. He ran his hands over her shoulders; they were as smooth and perfect as the rest of her. He unsnapped her jeans.

  The air hit his erection as she smoothed his boxers down his hips. With a finger to her chin, he lifted her face and hungrily kissed her again. Their patience vanished, and the careful consideration of the past few minutes evaporated into a frenzy of lustful need. He’d wanted her too long to stand on ceremony; had waited too long for her to realize he’d never hurt her as long as he breathed.

  Their lips slipped apart as they discarded the final constraints of their clothing. Trent drew her into his arms, relishing the sensation of her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. She was small yet full of strength.

  As he lifted her, she locked her ankles at the base of his spine and he glanced around the room as she nibbled on his neck, making him crazy. In the far end of the room, a desk sat with papers neatly stacked in one corner and a tray of memory cards in the other, leaving plenty of space in between for her sexy behind. He carried her toward the desk and lowered her on top.

  She spread her legs wide, her eyes locked on his. He drank her in, taking a moment for fear of never seeing her this way again. What if she regretted the sex? What if a physical relationship ended up pushing her away from him instead of toward him?

  No. He wouldn’t go there.

  She wanted him. He had to trust her as he wanted her to trust him.

  He gently squeezed one of her breasts and she tipped her head back, arched her spine, inviting his exploration. Her eyes were hooded and her mouth open.

  His body trembled. “Look at me, Iz.”

  Once her eyes were fully open and concentrated on his, he slid his hand over her rib cage and down to her most intimate place. He ran his fingers lightly over her before slipping two fingers deep inside. How could she exceed what he’d fantasized about almost every night since they were apart?

  She groaned and writhed against his fingers as Trent hitched her closer. “Trent. Wait.”

  She leaned to the side and opened a drawer beside them. Fumbling inside, she withdrew a foil packet and slammed the drawer. She ripped the packet open and slowly glided her hand up and down the length of him before smoothing on the condom.

  Gripping the backs of her knees, Trent yanked her forward. She gasped, her eyes shining with delight as she leaned back on her hands.

  He smiled and studied her beautiful face once more before he drove deep inside her. Her obvious satisfaction burned through his body and Trent gripped her thighs, thrusting into her again. Their impatient breaths filled the air and fueled his arousal. Never before had he entered a woman and felt such a sense of belonging or connection. He wouldn’t do a single thing to mess up their growing trust, to risk losing the woman he’d wanted since he first saw her four years before.

  He heightened his pace as her nails cut into his forearms. She tightened around him, and her face contorted in ecstasy as she came. The sight of her, the feel of her, was too much and finally Trent tipped over the edge and straight into paradise.

  Be with me, Izzy. Be mine. Always.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Trent had barely bitten into his bacon sandwich when the control center call-out reverberated over the speaker system, echoing off the station walls that all units were to respond to a house fire call.

  He and the rest of the crew leaped to their feet.

  Rushing from the kitchen, Trent raced into the fire station courtyard toward one of the two fire trucks ordered out. He and Will jumped inside and Sam slid behind the wheel. The siren blared as they sped from the station and headed toward the given address.

  Trent’s blood burned with the usual rush of adrenaline whenever they were called out. Cars moved to the side and trucks mounted pavements to let them through the narrow streets and around sharp corners until they finally arrived at the emergency destination.

  He was first out of the truck and didn’t look back, knowing Will and Sam would be right behind him. Smoke plumed from an upstairs window and people already gathered around, their faces panic-stricken as they stared helplessly toward the burning upper level. The second fire truck came to an abrupt stop and Trent immediately turned to the fire chief to await his instructions.

  Will and Sam’s concern about Trent becoming distracted and making bad decisions at work resonated in Trent’s head. His colleagues’ observations had cut deep and he needed to
prove to Will and Sam that, even though his relationship with Izzy had escalated on every level, his head would always be in the game at work. No matter what.

  He shifted from one foot to the other, his focus gliding over the house and surrounding area. The need to get inside the building and attack the fire burned through him.

  He turned to Chief Moyes, who darted his gaze from the house to his assembled crew. “Palmer, Paterson and Kent, I want you in protective gear and up the ladder ASAP.” He yelled his instructions to Trent, Sam and Will before turning to the others standing behind them. “Marchton, Ellis and Seymour, I want you to secure the area and find out exactly who’s in the house. Fall out.”

  “My wife’s up there. She’s in there. I just came home from work to...”

  Trent heard the man’s desperate shouts just as the husband sprinted toward the front door. Trent shoved his second arm into his fireproof jacket and grabbed the husband. He stared into the man’s eyes as Will, Sam and the others rushed past them toward the house.

  “Sir, you stay right here. Running in there isn’t going to help your wife, or us get the fire under control and your wife safe. Do you understand?”

  The man stared wide-eyed toward his burning home, his face smudged with soot. “I came home from work to get some papers. I tried to get to her—”

  “I know you did, but now it’s our turn. What is that room?” Trent pointed to the blazing upper floor. “A bedroom? Study?”

  “A bedroom. Our bedroom. I don’t know what she was doing—”

  “Okay. You’re going to stay right here. Got it?”

  The man’s jaw tightened, his gaze frantic, but he nodded. Trent returned his nod and rushed toward the house. The ladder was already positioned and Will climbed through the sheet of fog that concealed the window in an effort to get inside.

  Sam followed up behind Will as Trent ran toward the open front door. A colleague behind him called out that the wife was the only person inside. A modicum of relief whispered through Trent’s gut that they looked to save one life rather than multiple.

  He sprinted up the stairs.

  Thick gray smoke filled the landing, and flames licked around the outside of the closed bedroom door, charring its edges black. The fire was already dangerously close to spreading and smoke seeped in thicker and thicker rivers of gray from beneath the door.

  There was too much risk of back draft to attempt opening the door.

  He looked toward the ceiling. The wooden timbers in the roof would already be hot, ready to crack and splinter.

  “Guys, what do you see in there?” Trent yelled through his mouthpiece. “Do you have the civilian?”

  “Bringing her out now...” Will inhaled a long breath. “She’s taken a lot of smoke. She’s saying there’s somebody else in the room. Sam’s looking now, but it’s dark as hell in here. The smell is... I don’t know what started this blaze, but just don’t open the door. It’s burning its ass off already.”

  “I thought she was alone.”

  “I’m taking her down before we lose her.”

  The connection remained silent as Trent searched through the other upstairs rooms. They were empty. “All clear. Sam? Are you clear? Did you find anyone else?”

  Static crackled down the connection.

  “Chief, can you hear me?” Trent yelled as icy-cold fingers of dread tiptoed up his spine. Why the hell wasn’t Sam answering him? He, Will and Sam worked together like a finely oiled machine, guessing each other’s positions and thoughts before they came to fruition. “Chief?”

  More static and then the chief’s voice came through. “Loud and clear, Palmer. What do you see? We need to get the water up there right now.”

  “The fire is barely contained in the bedroom, sir. It’s going to spread, and spread fast. Is Kent clear with the civilian?”

  “He’s coming to ground now. Once they’re clear, we’ll start dousing this thing.”

  “There are no other civilians?”

  “No. Get yourself out here and let the others take over. All clear inside.”

  “The wife said there was someone else in here.”

  “What? Hold on.”

  Trent continued his search, the smoke growing denser with each passing second, trailing along the landing carpet, the flames reaching like fingers around the edge of the closed bedroom door.

  “Sam? What’s your position? Answer me.” Trent cursed and looked to the closed bedroom door once more. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to get inside that room. Something wasn’t right. Either Sam was injured or he had his hands too full with something to concentrate on communication. Either way, Trent couldn’t leave one of his best friends alone in that room. “Chief? Permission to enter the bedroom from the inside. Paterson isn’t responding. Sir?”

  “I’m ordering the hoses now. Get out and come clear. That’s an order. The wife is with the paramedics, and the husband is adamant no one else is in the house.”

  “What about Sam? Is he clear?” No answer. “Sir? Is Sam clear?”

  “Get out here now, Palmer. That’s an order.”

  “Shit.” Trent glanced toward the door before hurrying for the stairwell.

  He’d barely taken three steps down when the bedroom door cracked open and a human fireball came screaming through the flames, collapsing onto the landing carpet and rolling back and forth. Orange, red and blue flames leaped and spread around the writhing body with a life of their own.

  Trent ducked his head and scrambled back up the stairs, his gut tightening with the knowledge that the body could be Sam. He rolled the guy over and over, killing the flames. It wasn’t Sam. Where was he? Trent shot another glance toward the engulfed bedroom, cursed and dragged the man by the legs through the smoke. Hefting the lifeless body onto his shoulders, Trent carried him down the stairs. “I have a second civilian, sir. Male. Have you had any response from Paterson?”

  The chief came over the line. “Nothing. The water has started. Who’s the man? For Christ’s sake, it’s not—”

  “No, sir. From what’s left of his jeans and shirt, it’s not Paterson. I’m bringing him out now. It’s bad.”

  Deep in Trent’s gut, a knot of failure formed. The guy around his shoulders was badly burned and clearly had inhaled a lot of smoke. His skin was charred and blackened, bright red flesh showing like craters amid flashes of pale skin, so much whiter than Sam’s. As Trent emerged into the sunlight, he made for the paramedics as they rushed toward him with a gurney. He laid the man down, before leaving the paramedics to do their job. He strode toward the chief, who yelled into his handset.

  “Paterson? Come in. Paterson?”

  “He’s still in there?” Trent glared at the chief’s profile and back toward the upstairs window. “What the hell happened? Where’s Kent?”

  “Here.”

  Trent swiveled to face Will. “What happened? Where’s Sam?”

  Will looked past Trent to the house, his jaw tight and his gaze angry. “The guy you pulled out jumped on Sam as I was heading out the window with the wife. The last I knew, he was struggling with the guy, trying to reason with him.” He wiped his hand over his soot-covered face. “Jesus Christ, why weren’t we told there was more than one person up there? We need to get to Sam right now.”

  Trent looked toward the window. The gray smoke turned black as the remainder of the crew fought to extinguish the blaze. He couldn’t lose another friend to the flames. Not now. Not ever.

  “Who was the guy I just bought out? Was the wife messing around with him? The husband said there was no one else in the house.” Trent turned and strode toward the man who was frantically trying to get to his wife as one paramedic worked on the woman and another fought to physically restrain the husband. Trent gripped the guy’s shoulder and spun him around. “Hey. Who was in the house
with your wife?”

  The man froze. “What?”

  “I brought a second person out. A man. Who was he?”

  All the color drained from the man’s face as he looked from Trent to his wife. Her face was covered with a mask, her long hair marred with soot.

  The man’s gaze had turned from frantic to defeated. “She must’ve still been seeing him.”

  “An affair? Your wife was having an affair?” Trent stared at the husband, his hands curling into fists. “My friend could be lying dead up there because he tried to save another man who was having sex with your wife? I don’t believe this.”

  “Trent, knock it off.” Will gripped Trent’s upper arm and pull him round. “We’re wasting time. Forget why the guy was up there, will you? Sam’s all that matters now.”

  Trent stared into Will’s angry eyes. “But don’t you see what—”

  “All I see is you flying off the handle, concentrating on the wrong thing.” Will glared and moved his hand to Trent’s shoulder. “Get your head in the game, Trent. Do you hear me? We need to find Sam.”

  Releasing him, Will ran toward the house.

  Swallowing the need to shout at anything or anyone, Trent rushed after his friend, ignoring the chief’s calls. Together, they entered the house just as one of the crew came down the stairs with Sam over his shoulder.

  Ellis shook his head.

  Trent stared in disbelief as Will’s curses mixed with the screaming inside Trent’s head. The vehemence of his friend’s words bounced from the hallway walls. Dead. Sam was dead?

  Trent numbly moved to the side as Ellis carried another of Trent’s friends out into the cruel and tormenting autumn sunshine. Bile rose in Trent’s throat as pain jabbed violently into his chest...another cut to lie next to the shredded mess left by Aimee’s and Robbie’s deaths.

  Once again, fire had taken someone he loved. Once again, he hadn’t been where he needed to be. If he hadn’t stopped to talk to the husband, he would’ve been right behind Sam and Will.