12-Alarm Cowboys (54 page)

He reached around her and thumbed her clit as he bucked against her.

She braced herself, pushing back hard to keep from moving across the carpet. She’d have rug burns on her knees, but she didn’t care. The sounds he produced, so dirty and wet as he hammered into her pussy, were slick and percussive, their rhythm matching her escalating heartbeats. “I’m close, ’miah,
close
!”

And then she arched and flung back her head as a hot wave consumed her, sizzling outward from her core. Her walls convulsed, rippling along the sides of his cock, squeezing, squeezing…

“Oh God,” she cried, then crumpled to her elbows, trying to catch her breath, but each hard stroke forced out her air in harsh gusts until she was sobbing. She stretched out her arms and let his motions scrape her nipples against the carpet, the abrasion adding another layer of pleasure.

At last, he rocked deep, jerking hard against her ass, and then holding still as he made sounds so tight and guttural, she smiled.

He bent over her, curving an arm against her belly and took them both down, spooned together. His fingers pulled at strands of hair sticking to her face, and then he kissed her cheek.

She rested her head on the bulge of his arm and snuggled closer, tightening her inner muscles to trap him inside and closing her thighs to make double sure he stayed right there.

Jeremiah smoothed a hand over her hip and thigh, and then moved it upward to cup her breast. His breaths were loud, his chest pushing against her back as he still fought for air.

She wasn’t in any better shape. And she was sleepy. Placing her hand over the one massaging her breast, she waited a few more moments, enjoying the way they felt—joined, equally strained. “I liked that,” she whispered, then shook her head. Her words were a weak reflection of her true feelings.

From behind, he sighed and pulled free.

She heard the slick sounds of him removing the condom, but couldn’t guess what he’d done with it.

“Come here,” he said, moving away from her back.

She turned and saw that he was sitting with his back against the ottoman.

“Come,” he repeated, curling his fingers.

With a lazy crawl, she moved over him, once again straddling him. His cock was losing strength and size, but she liked pushing against it anyway as she spread herself and settled against his chest.

“We need to talk.”

She stiffened, and began to lean away.

But he shook his head. “No.” He bracketed her face and brought her closer, pressing a kiss against her mouth. “You trust me enough to fuck you, but you won’t hold a real conversation with me? Really, Carly? Is talking more intimate?”

Tired, she didn’t even try to school her features into a careless mask. “I’m wetting your cock. How much more intimate can we get?”

He rubbed her lower lip, and she realized she was pouting.
Childish. Stupid.
Why was she trying to hide from him? “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” He let out a deep breath. “But let’s start with the fire. What happened out there today?”

Her gaze veered from his. “I remembered the fire in the campgrounds. How I started it. How helpless I was to stop it. And then, all of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe.”

A fingertip dug into the soft underside of her chin and turned her. His gaze had softened. “You don’t have to go out with the team tomorrow. I’ll talk to Blake and have him keep you with the folks refilling the sprayers or providing refreshment to the firefighters.”

Disappointed in herself, she couldn’t stop her lower lip from trembling. “You don’t have to protect me.”

He smoothed a thumb over her lip. “What if I want to, Carly? What if I’d like to do more?”

Hearing the soft tone of his voice made Carly’s eyes begin to sting. She blinked to clear the moisture welling there. If she wasn’t careful, she’d start to depend on him for strength. “I don’t need more than this,” she said, indicating between their bodies. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time now.”

“What if I want to take care of you?” he said softly. “What if I
need
to take care of you?” Jeremiah rested his hands on her hips.

Did he know his thumbs were soothing her? Where was the surly hard-ass whose sharp gaze had flayed her? This Jeremiah was so tender he made her heart hurt. He wanted to take care of her, keep her safe and unafraid. “But I don’t deserve it,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Oh baby, come here.” He pulled her tight against his chest.

She tried hard not to cry, but his kindness was killing her. Her breaths came out in ragged gulps she couldn’t control.

Still, being in his arms was heaven, lying against his chest as he shushed her. Being comforted was so foreign, the gesture was another form of seduction. She couldn’t resist snuggling closer to fit her face into the corner of his neck. She breathed deep, taking in his lovely scent—clean and masculine. His skin was warm. “You’re spoiling me,” she murmured.

“Let me.”

“All right,” she whispered. Then because she didn’t know his full intentions and was half-afraid she was assuming too much, she kept silent, living in the moment as he held her. For the first time ever, she understood the feeling of belonging.

Monday morning, Jeremiah
waited as the bulldozer finished its final pass, having bladed the hard earth beneath the escarpment. Above him, at the top of the steep cliff, lay his ranch. He’d been given the job of maintaining the fireguard at the north end of the canyon, because Blake knew he had the most to lose.

Already, fires had been set south of their location. His team’s job was to clear a wide break at the foot of the cliffs so that no embers drifted out of the canyon to set fire to the fields along the rim.

With the soil turned, everyone worked with rakes to remove any grass or sticks that could continue to fuel a fire across the break. When they were through clearing the firebreak, they turned their attention to the area in front of them.

Blake needed them to set a back fire and burn the brush—again stealing fuel from the larger fire marching their way.

Jeremiah checked his handheld wind meter. Wind speed was an optimal eight miles an hour. And the direction hadn’t changed. The wind came from the south, which aided the volunteers moving the fire his way, then turned back at the cliff.

Everything was a go. Already, white smoke was visible in the distance although pines and brush hindered his view of the others’ progress. He already had the okay from Blake to set the blaze when he was comfortable with existing conditions.

He glanced around at his crew, at Carly who was still raking at clods of earth and brush. He wondered how she was holding up, whether she was nervous. She’d been insistent she was ready, that her head was in the right place to allow her participation. And because he knew this was important to her, he held back his objections. He’d keep close. Make sure she was safe.

He went to the ATV behind the fireguard and pulled out his drip can. “Ready, everyone?”

He received waves and smiles.

Carly gave him a nod and took a deep breath.

Jeremiah began to walk the line, squirting fuel for a few feet, then lit a match and dropped it. Immediately, the fuel ignited. He continued to drop fuel, leading the flames down the fireguard boundary. Behind him, his crew used their rakes to add fuel. The wind pushed the smoke and flames south.

Satisfied the backfire was going well, he dripped fuel down one side of their boundary setting a flank fire, while Tater dragged flame down the opposite side.

Soon the blaze was set, and he returned the can to his vehicle. He unclipped his radio. “Blake, the backfire’s lit.”

Then the time arrived for the real work. With an eye constantly tracking the smoke in the distance, he shouted orders to keep the backfire moving south. Once the brush in front of them burned, volunteers used both shovels and sprayers before they crossed the charred dirt.

The morning stretched into the afternoon as the crew made their way forward. The closer they drew to the larger fire heading their way, the thicker grew the smoke. He pulled his bandana over his nose and walked the line, checking on the volunteers to make sure they wore their goggles, that they kept hydrated, and took breaks when they needed to.

He came to Carly, and she struck her shovel into the dirt and leaned on the handle.

Jeremiah pulled up the bandana hanging around her neck and set it over her nose. “Are you doing okay?”

She nodded then jerked a thumb behind her, indicating Tater who’d insisted on working close by. “My watchdog’s making sure I do my job.”

Jeremiah grunted. “You could shadow me.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s kind of fun,” she said, her eyes smiling. “Told him I was feeling itchy, that the fire wasn’t big enough.”

“Don’t borrow trouble.” He shook his head then leaned close. “I’ll want that ass in one piece tonight.”

She laughed. “I’ll be fine. If the smoke gets too thick, I’ll retreat. If the fire moves too fast, I’ll hit the river.”

He nodded, glad she’d paid attention to the safety briefing. “I’d kiss you, but that’d only give Tater more ammo.”

“Later,” she said, her voice pitched low.

A quick, casual “love you,” was on the tip of his tongue, but he held back the words. Just barely. The ease with which his mind thought the declaration shocked him. He’d dated his ex-wife for months before he’d said the words, and even then, they still hadn’t felt quite right.

He left her, his mind whirling, and walked back down the line. A gust of wind sent smoke curling around him, and he grabbed his meter from his back pocket. Twenty miles per hour.

The radio squawked. “Wind’s picking up,” Blake’s voice boomed, and he sounded disgusted.

“Do we bail?”

“Not sure if it will last, but you might want to go ahead and have your crew lay down water. We’ll start on this end, too.”

Jeremiah ran to the west end of the firebreak. “Wind’s rising. Lay down water. Put out that fire.”

He continued down the line, issuing orders as the smoke thickened and flames became visible in the distance, climbing the pines. Although recent rains had kept the pines moist inside, the wind was whipping up embers to catch any dry needles above them.

When he reached the east end of the line, he found Tater already using his backpack sprayer to move into the flames and douse them. Carly worked furiously with a wet sack.

He grabbed the damper tool she’d dropped to the ground and pounded the flat, hardened-rubber surface against edge of the fire.

Another gust of wind blew darker smoke around them. The upper branches of a pine directly in front of them burst into flame with a whoosh. “We need to pull back.”

Tater and Carly glanced beyond his shoulder. Both their gazes widened.

Carly grabbed his arm and turned him. The fire was climbing the vegetation hugging the canyon wall.

His body tensed.

“We need to get to the river!” she shouted.

With a nod, he pointed. “Through there. Tater, lay down water as you move through. It’s not far. I have to check on the others.”

“Come with us,” Carly said, her expression worried. “They had to have seen the signs.”

He shook his head, and then gave Tater a steady glare. “Get her to the water. Carry her if you have to.”

Tater nodded then held her arm as Jeremiah plunged back into the smoke.

‡

T
rying not to
panic, Carly trudged behind Tater as he moved out, spraying water in hopes of keeping a clear path to the river. Around them, the fire was no longer crackling—it roared.

“What the hell happened?” she asked, and then coughed as smoke filled her mouth and nose. She pulled up her bandana and walked faster.

“You happpened,” Tater bit out, then coughed hard. “First, you try to kill me with a string of Black Cats—”

“Wasn’t trying to kill you. Just pay you back.”

“For what?” he snapped, halting and turning.

She shoved him forward. “River.” The smoke was thicker, they could barely see five feet in front of their location. Heat surrounded them, flashes of orange flame from above and below penetrating the dark cloud. “For bullying me, dickhead.”

“Bullying?” he shouted over his shoulder. “Seriously?”

“You picked on me constantly.”

“I was only teasing.”

“When you pointed out the fact I was poor? That my clothes came from thrift shops?”

“Didn’t mean anything by it. Swear. I liked you.”

She threw up her hands, even though he wasn’t looking and no one was around to see. “No wonder you never had a girlfriend!”

“We’re there.” He reached back, took her hand, and started wading into the river.

Just a few feet in, the water rose to her chest. Once they stopped, they went silent, their joined hands floating on the water, listening to the creak and groan of trees, to the whoosh of the hot wind as it blew by. At least, the smoke didn’t hug the top of the water. The cooler temperature lifted the hotter air higher above them. They could breathe. She tugged down her bandana.

“I’m sorry you felt like I was comin’ down on you,” Tater said with a shake of his head.