Chasing Fire: (Fire and Fury Book One)

by Avery Kingston

  He walked over and opened the door with a rap of his fist. “After you, my lady.”

  “I’ll have you know, I’m no lady.” Her brow went up into orbit as she sauntered past him into the stall.

  Tori was predictable in the most unpredictable ways. Predictable as in her behavior was always the same: reckless. Unpredictable because he never knew what her wild brain would come up with next. The past eight months had honestly been the most fun he’d ever had.

  He was zipping up his duffel bag when his door creaked open. He lifted his head, and Tori was creeping into his room. To say he was shocked to see her walk through his door after his graduation was a massive understatement. No visitors were allowed in Bancroft hall.

  Her and her crazy games. At least I get to see her one last time, even if it gets me in a ton of trouble.

  He was off to Illinois for nine weeks, followed by California for more than half a year of grueling training in hopes of making it through BUDS. He hadn’t been sure she’d show for the graduation. He’d only gotten four tickets—two went to his parents, and he’d offered one of the extra ones to Tori.

  “So, you came after all?” He grinned.

  “Of course. Hundreds of Navy men in uniform? Like I’d skip that.” Her mouth quirked up.

  “You just missed my parents.” He tossed his bag by the door. He’d said goodbye to his folks in the rotunda, and she must have followed him to find his dorm.

  “Oh, too bad.” She gave a fake pout.

  He crossed his arms and snorted. He knew she’d deliberately waited for them to leave so she wouldn’t have to do the dreaded meet-the-parents charade. Not like he’d know how to introduce Tori anyway. Hey Mom and Dad, I’d like you to meet Tori. She’s the hot, little number who’s been fucking my brains out for the past eight months.

  “I saw them. You look like your dad. He’s handsome. You’re gonna be super sexy when you’re old.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be disgusted or flattered.” He grimaced.

  “Take off that uniform, Sailor,” she ordered him with a fiery gaze, raising her eyebrow ever so slightly. That look drove him wild.

  He grabbed her with a crooked smirk and threw her on top of the bed. He had no intentions of going easy on her. This would be the last time he would be with her for a long time, if not forever, and he was planning on holding back nothing. Scott ripped off her clothing, slipped on a condom, and mounted her fiercely. He grabbed her face and shoved his tongue deep into her mouth, claiming that mouth one final time.

  Tori reciprocated by digging her nails into his back and nibbling on his nipple. He flinched a bit at the slight sting, and leaned back with a hearty laugh. “So that’s how you want it?” He tugged at her hair. “Ok. You asked for it.” He took her arms at the wrists and held them down on either side of her head. With one large thrust, he entered her, and her pouty lips parted as she breathed out heavily.

  She fought to get on top, but there was no use. He was far too strong. After she continued to squirm a bit, he finally allowed it. It was cute when she tried to overpower him. She straddled him and rode his cock, pressing her palms on his chest, digging her nails into his pecs. They continued in this fashion of top to bottom, rolling around from the bed to the desk, and slamming against the wall.

  Tori leaned back for a moment’s rest, propping up onto her elbows, panting and sweating. Her deep blue eyes bore into him as if she was going to devour him whole. That look made his cock so damn hard. He grabbed her by the waist, flipping her over, facedown, onto the bed. Scott yanked her lower, naked body half off the bed and stood between her thighs, admiring the view. For a skinny, little thing, she had an amazing backside. He watched her claw at the fabric on the sheets, yanking them off the bed in a futile effort to grab onto something.

  Scott trailed his fingertips down the curve of her spine all the way to her ass, pulling her cheeks apart, exposing her back opening. A grin stretched his lips. Would she let him get away with his filthy fantasy?

  What the hell. It’s worth a try.

  He took two fingers and glided them into her pussy, getting them nice and wet for where he was headed. Her back arched as she screamed his name into the sheets that were now balled up underneath her. He pulled out, gliding upward, tracing the outline of her ass with his fingers that were soaking from her juice. She tensed but didn’t protest; in fact, she lifted her ass higher, inviting him to do as he pleased.

  “Do it!” she said impatiently.

  Oh, fuck yes. He took two fingers and shoved them in her behind. She winced at first, but as he glided his fingers in and out, she grew looser. Her cries of pain turned into surprised moans of pleasure.

  “That honestly feels…” she let out a squeal, “good.”

  Time to go for broke.

  He took the tip of his cock and placed it there. The way she pressed against his cock told him yes. “Clench then relax, beautiful,” he instructed her. She did as he told, and his dick glided right in.

  He startled gentle, gradually building the intensity, gauging her reaction. He’d never do anything to hurt her. He could tell this was a first for her, and the fact she was trusting him with something so delicate spoke more than words could ever say.

  “Wow,” she breathed. Her cries told him she was enjoying it, so he ramped the pace. The headboard thumped rhythmically against the wall as the springs on the bed squeaked. Tori’s squeals grew louder, so he took her panties and shoved them inside her mouth. She may have enjoyed the possibly of getting caught, but that was the last thing he needed to happen.

  Scott grabbed her ass and continued to pull her in, enjoying his view. She reached underneath herself and fingered her pussy. Her muffled screams intensified as she pleasured herself until she came. It took all his strength to draw it out as long as possible. Finally, unable to hold on any longer, he gave one large thrust as his body erupted with electricity. He shivered as he came violently inside her.

  He turned her over, panting, sweating. Her hair was plastered to her face and sweat beads dripped off their bodies. They lay there, catching their breath, collapsed in a sweaty pile on top of each other from the absolute lewdness that had taken place.

  After some time, she stood and dressed.

  “I’ve got to go to work, and you have a long drive.” Tori slowly crept to the door. “It’s been real, Scott.” Her hand reached for the knob, pausing for a moment, but she pressed on, turning the handle.

  His stomach churned watching her walk away. “Tori wait.” Wait for me. The words were right on the tip of his lips, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to ask her to do that, and she wouldn’t anyway—not a girl like her. He had so much he wanted to say, but the air caught in his throat.

  She released the handle and let out a shallow breath, turning to him. “I don’t do goodbyes, Scott, so don’t you dare even try.” She gave him a warm smile and pulled down her underwear from under her summer dress, gliding them into the back pocket of his jeans draped over the chair.

  “I’m leaving these. You know the deal. Find me, return them, and you’ll get wildly fucked. Stay safe, Sailor.” She winked at him, blew him a kiss, and shut the door behind her.

  FOUR YEARS LATER

  The blistering desert sun beat down on Scott’s skin. For eighteen months, he’d been in this hellhole—his second tour in Afghanistan. He longed for home but knew once he got there, the desert would only beckon him back again—the dark, sick, seductive mistress it was.

  He had been out in the field for days, filthy, dusty and so used to his own stench he couldn’t even smell himself anymore. He was nearly too tired to drag himself into the shower. Sleep would be good. But not before a quick stop to check his email. He was in desperate need of contact from the outside world, some bit of good news, something reminding him of home.

  Scott sat in the small communications trailer, booted up the computer, and waited for the page to load, his tired eyes blinking to stay awake. He admittedly was looking for an ema
il from her.

  Scott tried not to get too hung up on Tori, but that girl had a hold on him he couldn’t shake. He refused to try and have a long-distance relationship. In his line of work, it only brought heartache, and Tori’d made it clear she was not the type of girl that would sit and wait around for him. Thankfully, she’d remained single through the years. She always cleared her schedule for a good fuck between deployments.

  He’d last heard from her six months ago, when she was busy finishing her senior year, gearing up for graduation and applying to graduate school.

  He’d shot her an email a few days ago, letting her know his tour was almost up. He and his cock were hoping her schedule was free. He needed to get laid, whacking off in the shitter wasn’t cutting it anymore.

  As luck would have it, she wrote back.

  Scott,

  Glad to hear you will be home soon. Seems I’m missing something of mine that you have. My bottom is quite cold without them.

  XOXO,

  Tori

  Her and those panties. Every. Goddamn. Time.

  Attached to the email was a photo of her naked ass. There was a new addition of red lips tattooed with the words “kiss it” scrolled above it that made him laugh out loud. It was new ink, but it was definitely her, and that was definitely something she would say. He’d know that perky ass anywhere.

  Scott shut down the computer and headed back outside into the blistering heat. He squinted his eyes and pulled his sunglasses down, placed a cigarette between his lips, and lit it. God, I need to quit this shit. He took a long drag and watched as the men jumped back into the Humvee and hollered for him.

  “Harris! SP in fifteen minutes. Let’s go!” Jones yelled from the HMMWV.

  So much for sleep.

  “Shit.” Scott dropped his cigarette on the ground, stomped it out, and trotted over to the vehicle.

  It was like being underwater. Scott could hear muffled voices but couldn’t make out any of the words. In the forefront of all that was a deafening ringing.

  He slowly opened his eyes and blinked. The light in the room was so bright it was like daggers piercing his skull. He immediately closed them tight in hopes to shut out the pain. Sounds slowly became more distinct, and he could make out commotion in the room.

  “Close the blinds!” came a southern, female cry in a hurried panic.

  Mom?

  “Scott?” The soothing voice sounded so far away, as if shouting through a tunnel. A light hand touched his arm. “Scott?” The words grew clearer as he willed his eyes to open, slowly this time. A flash of red poked through the haze. Red hair? Mom?

  A few more blinks and his vision focused. He saw his mother standing over him, calling his name again and again. Her green eyes were clouded with tears, and a strained smile stretched her face. Scott tried to speak and gagged. Something was blocking his throat. His eyes widened, and he groped to yank out whatever it was choking him.

  His father’s large frame pressed him down to the bed. “You have a breathing tube in. You can’t pull it out son. You’re going to be ok.” His dad’s reassuring, dark gaze the only thing that could calm him. His dad, Wayne, flashed him an admiring grin. He patted Scott’s shoulder and crossed his arms, puffing out his large chest. “Still have the fight in you, I see. That’s my boy.” He nodded to his mother.

  What the hell happened? His body tingled, struggling to catch up to his jumbled brain. He gathered he was injured and in the hospital as his eyes darted the room.

  His mother sat on the bed and stroked his head. “You’re in the Naval Medical Center. Been here for two days.” His parents went on to explain he’d been moved from the field to Germany, then to Maryland once his internal injuries had stabilized. His brow furrowed. How long was he out? How could he not remember?

  Scott motioned with his hand for something to write with.

  “I’ll go get a pad and pen,” the nurse said then darted out of the room.

  “You’ve been unconscious, Scotty,” Wayne explained.

  He searched his thoughts, trying to bring to the front of his mind the last thing he could remember. As the fog lifted, the pain hit, and he longed for the numbness to come back.

  His dad continued to speak, but his ears just rang as flashes of memories played like a movie reel in his head. The firefight, followed by the blast that catapulted him, looking over and seeing Jones’s face burnt to a crisp, missing the lower half of his body, his insides hanging on the outside. Blinding, hot rage coursed through his veins seeing his brother blown to pieces. Scott stood, limping across the sand, struggling for air, he shouldered his weapon. Boom! boom! boom! Three insurgents fell one right after another.

  He remembered the world closing in on him. The loud, whirling blades of the chopper, voices, and the burning pain in his lungs as he gasped for air. Get a fucking tourniquet on that god damn leg so he doesn’t bleed out…fucking stay with us, Harris! The medic had yelled and slapped his face right before he lost consciousness.

  “Scott, did you hear me?” His dad touched his shoulder.

  His eyes were drawn like a magnet toward the foot of the bed. Under the stark, white sheet lay one mound instead of two.

  Well fuck.

  The doctor stood over his bed as Scott tried to wrap his brain around everything they were telling him in his doped-up state. For the past three weeks, they’d been moving him around like he was some pod person from a sci-fi movie. He was completely unaware of his travels—unconscious, sedated, and intubated from Afghanistan, to Germany, to Delaware, and finally, to Bethesda.

  They’d tried to save the leg, but once he got to the Naval Hospital, they decided to take it once the infection had spread to his bloodstream.

  “You wouldn’t have got much use of it anyway, and probably would’ve opted to amputate down the road for your own sanity,” his doctor explained. “Also, your lungs took a nasty beating.”

  The doctor pulled back the sheets, exposing what was left of Scott’s leg. Scott cringed and grew dizzy at the sight. That’s gonna take some time to get used to. His stomach lurched, and he fought the urge to vomit. His mother darted her eyes out the window to avoid having the tears start flowing again.

  “Mom, stoooppp…” Scott groaned hoarsely. His throat hurt like hell, but he was glad the damn tube was out, and he could speak. “You made the right call. I’ll be walking on a peg in no time.” He gave her a lopsided grin of reassurance. “Right, Doc?”

  The doctor nodded. Scott knew he was damn lucky this was not done in the field, otherwise, a prosthetic may have not been an option.

  “What about my hearing?” Scott asked, pointing to his left ear. He couldn’t hear anything out of it, and the ringing in his head was driving him crazy.

  “Most perforations heal, but only time will tell.”

  “When can I get out of bed?” Translation, when can I wheel my ass downstairs for a smoke? Because I’m dying.

  The doctor laughed and Scott’s father gave a proud smile. “That damn grit of yours, Son…just be patient.” Wayne patted Scott on the shoulder.

  “We’re still monitoring the effects of the infection in your bloodstream and your lung injury, but I think you’re out of the woods now. You have a road to recovery ahead of you, but you’re one of the lucky ones.”

  Scott jerked the sheet back over his leg. The muscles in his neck tensed, and his chest grew tight as the weight of those words set in. The image of Jones flashed in his head—his friend, his brother, gone.

  “Three…two…one…drink.” Keith hollered as Tori downed the shot of tequila and let out a breath as it burned her chest. They were in full celebration mode. Her acceptance letter from Georgetown grad school came today, and in the fall, she would be starting her M.A. degree program in Art and Museum studies.

  Tori smiled at Keith as he flashed her a grin. “Now only to land that internship at the Smithsonian.”

  Keith waived his hand flippantly. “Honey, I’ve put in the word for you. You’ll be fine.
Now shut up about work, down that drink, and start scouting for hot men for us to dance with.”

  “You got it.” Tori nodded at him, scanning the bar. A guy in drag sang show tunes on the stage as she peered over her options. She locked eyes on a tall, attractive male in a sport coat. His dark locks were well styled and peppered with grey around the temples. “What about him?” Tori pointed.

  “Ugh.” Keith made a vomit noise, and his freckled nose wrinkled. “Too scholarly and too old. Look at the elbow patches on the coat. I don’t want to sip brandy and smoke cigars in bathrobes. What is it with you and older men?”

  Tori let out a breath and kept scanning the crowd. Her eyes stopped on a muscular, hottie with sandy-haired locks flowing to his waist. “Him. The waiter.” She pointed toward the table a few rows over.

  “You mean Tarzan?” Keith sighed. “It’s like you don’t know me at all, Vicky.”

  Keith was the only one she’d ever let get away calling her Vicky. She typically went by Victoria, and he’d shortened it to Vicky the night they met, and it stuck. Victoria or Tori she allowed, but never Vicky, except for Keith.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she protested. “He’s hot if you ask me.” If they weren’t in a gay bar, Tori may have done some flirting with him herself. It was going to be a dry night for her tonight, she realized as she peered over the sea of attractive, young men.

  “Too muscular for my taste.” Keith snarled and stuck out his tongue. “I prefer a runner’s body and a nice, tailored suit.”

  Shauna came in a few moments later and slumped into their booth. She was still wearing her work scrubs. “What about a suit?” She looked to Keith.