Authors: Anne Marsh
Burning Up (14 page)
The hunger trembled through her, expanded and grew, until she shattered, the bright pleasure sparking, taking her higher. White-hot sensation exploded through her as she cried out his name into the lightning-charged night air.
He arched, pushing deeper, harder, then stilled. Muttered words tore from his throat as he buried his hands in her hair, stroking, gentling her, as he lost himself in her.
Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that Jack Donovan was worth every minute of her ten-year wait.
Chapter Thirteen
L
ike all mornings after, this one was a bitch. First thing he noticed as he came awake was the too-soft mattress. He dug an elbow in, fighting not to sink into the sea of softness as he dragged himself the rest of the way awake. Next thing to hit him was the now-familiar, dusky scent of lavenderâand Lily.
Christ.
He'd spent the night. Inside. In Lily's bed.
ike all mornings after, this one was a bitch. First thing he noticed as he came awake was the too-soft mattress. He dug an elbow in, fighting not to sink into the sea of softness as he dragged himself the rest of the way awake. Next thing to hit him was the now-familiar, dusky scent of lavenderâand Lily.
Christ.
He'd spent the night. Inside. In Lily's bed.
He didn't sleep with anyone, and he sure didn't sleep inside, not when there were other choices. Sure enough, as soon as he got his eyelids open, there were the walls, pressing right in on him, the room getting smaller with each quick breath he took. In another moment he'd be sucking air like a winded runner.
Fuck
. He should have outgrown this.
Fuck
. He should have outgrown this.
Should have, could have,
he mocked, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply. He fought fires that could clear a room of oxygen faster than a man could blink. He knew what breathless really was, so four simple walls shouldn't hit him this hard.
he mocked, forcing himself to breathe slowly and deeply. He fought fires that could clear a room of oxygen faster than a man could blink. He knew what breathless really was, so four simple walls shouldn't hit him this hard.
But when Lily shifted beside him, he jackknifed up in the bed.
“Damn it,” he muttered, shoving his hands through his hair. “Get a grip, Jack.”
Living in Strong had been almost impossible for himâ he'd always felt trapped, suffocated, wanting desperately to lash out at the adults forcing him to stayâuntil he'd discovered firefighting. Fighting fires was an acceptable outlet to channel the rage and desperation, so he'd spent summers and weekendsâhell, weekdays, too, when the fire was bad and Ben Cortez was too shorthanded to mindâbattling blazes. He'd lost himself in those battles. Tired, sweat-soaked, and smoky, he'd been too exhausted, when he'd finally tumbled into sleep and oblivion, to care much that he was surrounded by four walls and expectations he'd never live up to.
His cell vibrated again, a soft rasp of sound in the jeans he'd dropped on the floor. The untidy pile of clothes was another reminder he didn't want. He hadn't wanted to wait. Now he didn't want to remember just how badly he'd wanted this woman. Or how much he still did.
Lily was a sweet, hot weight cuddled up by his side. She might be demanding space between them during the daylight hours, but, right now, her body was as close as she could get. Her soft breathing tickled his skin, mingling with the cooler air from the open window. At least she'd left the window open.
God.
He turned his face toward the fresh air.
God.
He turned his face toward the fresh air.
Still really early,
he realized. The light was gray, one step removed from pitch-black. Shadows-and-secrets light. The crickets were still singing outside, but it was already hot and still. Perfect thunderstorm weather. And he had a call. He needed to get out of here.
he realized. The light was gray, one step removed from pitch-black. Shadows-and-secrets light. The crickets were still singing outside, but it was already hot and still. Perfect thunderstorm weather. And he had a call. He needed to get out of here.
Slowly, he started untangling himself. As he slipped away from the soft, warm curl of her body, the sheet followed, baring the curve of an arm. The rounded mound of a breast and the darker shadow of her nipple. Pure candy, those nipples were. The cool, early-morning air had them pebbling into delicious little nubs. He'd feasted on them last night like a starving man, and yet he still wanted to lean down, suck those tempting nipples right into his mouth, and tease her into wakefulness.
His cell vibrated again. No one would call him now unless there was an emergency. He needed to take the call. Relief pounded through him as he shot off the bed. Away from temptation.
“What is it, Jack?” Her sleepy voice reached out for him, her weight rolling toward him as she came half awake.
“Go back to sleep, baby.” Her voice was all drowsy with promise and dreams, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to ignore his call and sink back into the bed. Into her. Soft and sweet and warm, she was an impossible lure. But he didn't do mornings after. And he had to go.
Bending down, he swiped the cell from the floor. The numbers were the expected ones. Evan. His brother would just keep on calling until he got the answer he needed, so there was no real point in waiting.
He got his feet moving and out the door, ignoring the rustling of cotton as Lily pushed up on an elbow, watching him go. She had that impossibly feminine sheet pressed against the sweet, hot length of her now, cupping her breasts the way his hands itched to do.
He couldn't stay, so he pulled the door shut between them and took his call. “What's up?” It was still dark out, although the sky was lightening up over on the horizon. Fire at night was a damned good indication the cause was arson.
“Spotter called in a series of fires. They came up real quick, because our man had just scanned that area.” This particular spotter was parked in an old fire tower just outside of Strong. He'd have a ringside seat if a wildland fire kicked up. “Right now we've got four fires. Popped up one right after the other. You know what that means.”
“Arson. You think that's our boy?”
“You had that little fire out at Lily's yesterday. You said the bastard was watching, but you ran him off.” Evan paused, trying to avoid a whole lot of awkward.
Jack filled in the blanks for his brother. “So he probably got a real good eyeful of me and Lily.” He didn't mention what had been happening before that fire, or after, but Evan was proficient at filling in the blanks.
“Might not be any connection,” Evan said slowly. “It's not impossible these four are just leftovers from last night's storm.”
“It's possible,” Jack growled. “But don't you of all people tell me it's probable. He's going to burn down the entire goddamned town.”
They both knew what could happen to sleeper fires in the dry summer weather. “You want to put the plane up?”
There was a pause on the other end. He could almost hear Evan running numbers, pitting the cost of fuel against getting an easy peek at their possible hot spots. “Let's put her up,” he said finally. “Get a good look from the air. If it's really arson, there may be more than four. ”
Perfect.
“I'll be there in ten. Round up the crew. We need to put those fires out.”
“I'll be there in ten. Round up the crew. We need to put those fires out.”
That pause repeated itself on the other end of line, as Evan did some figuring of a different sort. Then he said, “Thought you were otherwise occupied.”
“You called,” he pointed out, ignoring the question in his brother's voice. “Have I ever missed a fire?”
“No.” Again there was a pregnant pause. Hell, he hadn't known Evan had that much tact in him. Someone had been teaching his younger brother manners. “You've always come through, always gone up with the jump team. Just thought today might have been different, that's all.”
Right.
He wasn't touching that one. “There's nothing different about today.” The words were harder to say than he'd imagined. “Whenever we get a fire, I'm there.”
He wasn't touching that one. “There's nothing different about today.” The words were harder to say than he'd imagined. “Whenever we get a fire, I'm there.”
“Right.” His brother's husky chuckle sounded relieved. “Of course I'm not putting up our plane without letting you know first, you bastard.”
“True.” Snapping the phone shut, he shifted into high gear. Four minutes to get the truck from the farm to the hangar; that left him six minutes to get his clothes on and his ass down the stairs.
Moving silently, he slipped back inside the room and reached for last night's clothes. A neat stack should have been within arm's reach of where he'd slept. Man didn't fight fires without learning to sleep light and to dress on the run. Instead, he'd dropped his clothes on the floor in his hurry to get into bed with his Lilybell. He had a feeling that change wouldn't be the only one he'd be making if he stuck around.
Definitely time to hit the road.
And yet he couldn't ignore his arousal. He still had the taste of her on his mouth, the sweet scent of her on his skin sending the blood rushing to an erection that was already hard and thick, demanding he crawl right back into the bed with her and make love to her all over again.
So, the question really was, was he running to the fireâor from the woman in the bed? Hell if he knew.
“You're going out?” Her sleepy voice reached out from the shadowy cocoon of the bed. He had to go.
Needed
to go. So why his feet were taking him toward her and not the door was a damned mystery.
Needed
to go. So why his feet were taking him toward her and not the door was a damned mystery.
“Fire call, baby.” His knees hit the side of the bed before he could stop himself, before he could keep himself from curling the fingers of one hand around her wrist. Her skin was baby-soft there.
“So you're just leaving.” Her words weren't anything more than a statement of the facts, but it didn't take much to interpret the flat tone of her voice. Yeah, he didn't need four-foot neon lights to know what the sheet shoved beneath her arms meant. He'd erased the intimacy of last night the instant he'd taken that call.
He'd always known the job came first, and, until now, he'd never had any regrets. Fires were just another ironclad excuse to slip away when the nighttime hours were finished.
“This is what I do, Lily.” Bending down, he brushed a kiss against the side of her jaw, the edge of her ear. Her stoic silence had him biting back an impatient growl. She'd known the rules. Known what he had to offerâand what he couldn't give her.
So why did this time feel so different? He told himself that what they'd shared the night before was just sex, even if having his Lilybell had been the hottest, most mind-blowing sex of his life. But he had a niggling suspicionâno, a deep-rooted convictionâthat the attraction between them was more than sex. Long, slow, and sweet. That's how he wanted to love her. If he wasn't careful, she just might be more than a summertime romance for him.
She'd been kicked, and she was sure as hell down. But Lily was smart. When the San Francisco police couldn't ID her stalker, she hadn't stuck around for him to finish whatever sadistic game he was playing with her. And yet, despite all the lemons life had handed her, she'd been determined to get right on up again. He admired that. He admired
her
.
her
.
But the walls were still closing in on him, and the fires were a gift-wrapped present with his name on the label. He needed to get his ass in gear. Plane wouldn't waitânot long. He'd never backed down from a call, and he wasn't starting now.
Stepping away from the bed, he pulled his shirt over his head. Lily just sat there and watched him. Maybe that was a good thing, that silence of hers. Maybe she wouldn't make him say the things he didn't want to say. A man could hope.
“You're running away, Jack.” She slid off the bed, taking the sheet and the silence with her. Wrapped the sheet around those curves he'd explored last night and shot his peace of mind all to hell.
“This is a fire call, Lily.” He was explaining, and he didn't do explanations.
“No,” she said, walking toward him. Damned if he was going to back up. He held his ground like he'd hold a fire line. Time was slipping away from him. He had to leave. “This isn't about some fire up on some mountain somewhere. This is about us. About you. If you don't want this to be any more than a one-night stand, Jack Donovan, that's fine. I didn't ask you for more than that. You go right on out that door.”
The explanations just kept on coming. “I'll be back.”
Her chin came up, and her face was pure stubbornness. “Don't bother,” she said, all sweetness, as if he'd offered to bring in her groceries or do a little fetch-and-carry for her. “I've done just fine without you, Jack, so here's a news flash for you. The world is going to keep right on turning when you head on out that door. I'm not going to collapse in a tearful heap because you've decided now is a good time to leave. Last night was fun.” She shrugged. “I admit I was curious.”
“Curious?” His voice was a rough growl.
“Curious,” she repeated sweetly. “And, now that you've answered all my questions so nicely, we're good.” She nodded. “Good and done. So lock up when you hit my porch, and don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, Jack.”
Damned if she didn't head right for the bathroom. She couldn't even be bothered to see him down the stairs.
He might not want to stay, but he wasn't letting her slip through his fingers like this. Not again. His hand shot out and shackled her wrist gently before he could think things through. “You call last night whatever you want, baby, but we're not
good
and done. Not by a long shot.” He knew she heard the heated promise in his voice, because she stopped and gave him a look that would have done Nonna proud. It was the look that said she saw his bullshit and raised him, too.
good
and done. Not by a long shot.” He knew she heard the heated promise in his voice, because she stopped and gave him a look that would have done Nonna proud. It was the look that said she saw his bullshit and raised him, too.
She didn't scare, his Lily. Not easily. No, instead of running, she just turned and stepped into him. The heat and scent of her flooded his senses, making him hard again. Which was a bitch, because she'd kept that sheet between them, and he still needed to leave. “You want to leave,” she accused quietly.
He did. He didn't. Jumping out of a plane at fifteen hundred feet didn't scare him, but this one woman did. She was getting under his skin. No one else ever had, and, even though she wasn't asking him to stay, he wanted to.
“Fine, Jack. You go. I don't want you to stay.”
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