by Piper Stone
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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Embracing the Quiet Night
A Missoula Smokejumpers Christmas
Piper Stone
Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Piper Stone
All rights reserved.
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Piper Stone
Embracing the Quiet Night
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-502-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-566-6
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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Chapter 1
Smokejumpers: Elite group of firefighters, specially trained for massive land fires
Jackals: Missoula smokejumping team comprised of seven men
“Jingle Bells. Jingle Bells. Jingle all the way.” Jessica Dunn twirled as they walked out of the restaurant and glanced at the darkened skies. Missoula was blanketed by fresh snow, ice crystals shimmering in the lights of the city. She breathed in as she held her arms, delighting in the various Christmas decorations adorning almost every building.
“I love to hear you sing,” Stoker Hansen said as he moved closer.
“This is a special time of year. I would love to record a holiday album.”
“Then, why don’t you?”
“I don’t know.” She looked up and down the street, wishing every day could be this magical. Her thoughts drifted to her now defunct music career. For years, she’d been one of the leading female rock singers, fronting the popular band, Fringe. Years of road trips, concerts in front of tens of thousands and damn good money had turned into performing in front of thinning crowds, lackluster CD sales and her wretched mood swings. The final blow? Being kicked out of her own band. Coming to Missoula, Montana had been on a whim, a dare even. Find your soul again, the experts had told her the moment they shoved her out and locked the door. Starting over had been difficult, gut wrenching. Staying in an incredible town was something else entirely and had Stoker written all over her decision. She shuddered as she remembered their intense love affair. The rough and rugged smokejumper was every woman’s fantasy.
Inching directly behind her, he nuzzled into her neck. “Talk to that big-time producer of yours. He’ll do anything you ask.”
“I don’t have the contract signed just yet.” A product of the music industry. She’d been led down a trail then nothing signed, sealed and delivered. She’d been asked to sing at a local restaurant just one song, then the country music industry came calling, begging her to come to LA. A bone of contention, even coming between her relationship.
“You will, baby. You will.”
She didn’t want to talk about work, either hers or his. The fire season had been brutal, taking him away for weeks at a time. Right now, they were supposed to be enjoying time together. Their first Christmas. Everything had to be perfect. They were supposed to be planning their wedding but between his work and her unexpected trips, everything was on hold. “You know what? I can smell snow in the air. I think we’re going to have a white Christmas.”
He inhaled and pulled her against his chest. “And I only smell the exotic perfume of the woman I love.”
“Exotic. When did my smokejumper learn such big words?” She folded her arms over his, her body quivering all over.
He swung her around, his hips swaying back and forth. “Since my woman came into my life.”
“Your woman, eh?” Laughing, she slid her arms around his neck.
“Baby, you’re all mine.” Capturing her mouth, he pressed his tongue past her lips as his grip became tight, powerful.
The French kiss was intense, driving her onto her toes. She intertwined her fingers in his hair, savoring the way his throbbing cock pressed hard against her stomach. Lightheaded, she shuddered as the moment of passion continued and for a few precious seconds, nothing else mattered. There was nowhere else she’d rather be than in his arms. Every part of her tingling, she fell into the kiss, hungering more than usual. This man, this danger loving, powerhouse of a man managed to thrill her every day. Good looks, a muscular body and one hell of a kisser.
When he broke the kiss, he nipped her lower lip, a slight growl pushing past his lips. He stood back and brushed the tip of his finger across her nose. “You are one amazing woman.”
Hearing his words gave her a series of kinky thoughts. She pressed her hand against his chest, fingering his leather jacket. “And you’re my hero.” When he tensed, she grabbed a handful of his shirt. “You’re everybody’s hero.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He tried to pull away.
“Don’t do that. Please.” She licked the underside of his chin. He�
�d never been comfortable with being called a savior, a hero or even a man of distinction. His days being held captive during the war in Afghanistan continued to give him nightmares. While she’d never said anything, she remained wide awake on the nights he struggled in his sleep, moaning until he cried himself to sleep.
“Not doing anything, baby. I’m fine.”
Sure, you are. She held back saying all the words, the phrases she’d practiced over the months spent together. He wasn’t ready for her brand of psychological overtures. “Tell you what. I’d like to get a Christmas tree.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight. It’s December ninth. Time is running out, big man. Santa needs to have a place to nestle the dozens of gifts.” She pushed back, giving him a heated look.
“Dozens. Wow. Someone thinks they are deserving.” He swatted her ass, grinning like a kid.
“I’ll have you know that when I was a little girl, we put up the tree and all the decorations right after Thanksgiving. And you bet, I deserve.”
Stoker raised a single eyebrow and took a step back, his expression mischievous. “Then a tree you shall have. The presents must be earned.”
Purring, she slid her hand down his chest to his crotch, fingering his already swollen cock. “I don’t think I’ll have any problem with that.”
“Mmm… I just bet you won’t. I know the perfect place to get a blue spruce, the only Christmas tree anyone should have.”
As a burst of wind swirled around them, she wrinkled her nose. “We always had an artificial tree. Saves the environment.”
He looked away briefly then grabbed her arms. “You are kidding me, right?”
“Not kidding at all. No needles falling. No need to water and the tree can stay up longer.” Noticing the frown, she rubbed the tip of her gloved finger across his nose. “Oh, come on. A Christmas tree is all about the lights, the decorations.”
Gripping both sides of her coat, he yanked her forward. “You live in Montana now. Our ways are different.”
“The cowboy way?” She couldn’t help but smile. Life in Montana was indeed different than Florida.
“Woman, we forge through the forest and fresh cut our trees. Wood for fires. You know what I’m about.”
“Big he-man. Have ax, will cut?” His furrowed brow made her laugh.
He issued another growl. “I thought you adored my ax.”
“Uh-huh. Let’s go to Target.”
“Not a chance.” Kissing the top of her forehead, he gripped her hand. “We do things my way this year. Come on.”
“Following your orders, sir?” Jessica leaned her head on his upper arm as they walked toward the truck. She’d never been happier. Life had taken a dramatic turn in the last few months.
“I am in charge.” Stoker winked as he unlocked her door.
She pursed her mouth before peppering a kiss on his lips, her whisper full of sensual husk. “Something you never allow me to forget.”
He took her hand, placing her fingers over his bulging groin. “Not a chance, sunshine. I know the perfect place to get an amazing tree.” He eased her fingers to his lips, kissing the tips. “When we get home, I’m going to do some really bad things to you.”
“Under the Christmas tree?”
“Smack under the tree. I’m going to peel away your clothes, kissing every inch of your body, sucking on your nipples until you beg me for more.”
A shiver raced down her spine. “Do I get to play?”
“Only if you’re a very good girl. Then again, I might have to give you a spanking. Long and hard.”
“But I’ve been very obedient.”
He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. “No, you’re one naughty girl. I have a brush with your name on it. Yes, your naked body thrown over my lap. Just what you need. Imagine what you’re going to get in your stocking this year.”
As he closed the door, she bit her lip, giddy from the concept. She was wet and hot all over, desire bursting to the surface. She’d never seen him so happy, then again, she’d never been so content. The holiday season was turning out to be amazing. A spanking. She pressed her hand over her mouth, suppressing a moan. Getting used to his dominating ways had been… unusual. The entire team of smokejumpers believed domestic discipline was the utmost in a relationship. She continued to have her doubts.
Stoker closed the door and leaned over, opening the glove compartment. “In case you didn’t realize how prepared I am.” As he eased a brush into the limited light, he rubbed his hand down her thigh. “Anytime. Anywhere.”
Jessica whimpered, more for effect than anything else. “You would have spanked me here? Right in this parking lot?”
He eased the key into the ignition then exhaled. “Let me think.”
Crack!
She jumped when he smacked the brush against his hand.
“As I said.” Shoving the implement back into the small box, he closed the door and grabbed a quick kiss.
She settled into the seat, attaching the seatbelt as her mind wandered to sinful places. Leaning forward, she studied the sky, just able to see clouds moving through the darkness. “A storm is coming.”
“Not yet.” He looked over and grabbed her hand, squeezing.
“Where are we getting this infamous tree?”
“There’s this tree lot, not too far from Ziggy’s. Ever since I can remember, my family has gotten a tree from the Michaels family. They have the best spruce trees around and the price is reasonable. Good people.”
Jessica glanced over at his face, the way his entire body became animated as he talked. “Why don’t you cut your own?”
“Because the land is precious. Sure, there are tree farms within driving distance, but being able to help the local folks means a hell of a lot to me. Mr. Michaels has had a rough life. That much I know. The trees are just special. The place is just around the corner.”
There were so many wonderful aspects about living in Missoula, but buying local, sharing good times with so many people from town was a delightful highlight. “Then let’s get the biggest tree he has.”
“Twenty-footer?”
“At least.”
Stoker laughed and made a turn, gripping the steering wheel as he pressed down on the accelerator. “You get to pick out the tree.”
They both remained quiet and she crowded close to the console, her hand rubbing up and down his arm. She hadn’t been able to figure out a special Christmas gift, even though ideas coursed through her mind every day. Nothing seemed right. Perfect. And Stoker deserved the most incredible gift she could imagine. She groaned and watched the display of holiday lights, some garish, some merely a small reminder of the special season. From humongous blown up Santa’s waving to anyone passing by to thousands of blinking lights, highlighting every inch of rooflines to sidewalks, the season seemed special.
“We’re almost there. If it’s anything like past years, he’ll have hot chocolate ready.”
“A perfect ending to a wonderful night.”
“Darlin’, you haven’t seen anything yet. He might have the reindeer like he did last year.”
She noticed his expression turning pensive. “You had a big tree?”
Hesitating, he shook his head and sighed. “No. I didn’t have a tree last year. There wasn’t a reason to celebrate. The firefighters did a special event at the lot. For charity. We had a good time.”
Hearing the sadness in his voice, she squeezed his arm, unsure of what to say.
“All right. Here we…” Stoker’s words trailed off as he eased the truck against the curb.
Jessica peered out the window. The lot was vacant, dark and there were no trees of any kind. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” He eased the gear into park and climbed out of the truck.
Following, she could see the space had been partitioned off, as if anticipating a full lot. She noticed a cardboard sign, a wooden stake haphazardly stuck into the ground. She adjusted her collar, trying to
keep out the wind, and moved closer. A single streetlight hovered overhead, the old florescent style lamp flickering on and off, creating a haunted feeling. She shook her head and fingered the lettering. Written in a red magic marker, the lettering itself appeared despondent, as if there was no life, no reason. “No trees. No money. Merry Christmas. “Christ. That’s horrible.”
He kicked his heel into the dirt and gravel as he paced the area, moving through the empty space. “He’s always been here. Always. He makes money selling trees. Why would he do this?”
“Wouldn’t he have to purchase the trees first?”
“You’re right. I don’t think he owns the land. I don’t know. He and I talked every year, but I never really got to know him.”
“Times have been rough for people. Maybe he couldn’t afford to pay the price for the trees in the interim.” She read the crude sign again then shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “There’s other tree lots. Right?”
“Not like this. This place brings back so many memories. Mr. Michaels’ trees were the best. I can’t explain why.”
“You don’t have to.” She moved even closer, until she was only a foot behind him. His tense shoulders, the way his breathing was ragged reminded her what a special man he was. Stoker took everything so personally, as if he continued to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Why don’t we get an artificial this year?”
“No!” He hissed and flashed a look in her direction. “Just not the same. Okay? Let’s look for another tree tomorrow.”
“Baby, talk to me. Why does this bother you so much?”
“Doesn’t matter.”