by Radclyffe
“You’re running pretty close to a five-minute mile, which might be impressive on a high school track, but it’s just plain stupid out here in the mountains,” Mallory said, more worried than aggravated. She didn’t need another rookie down, and Jac was setting a blazing pace over unpredictable ground. The trail was scarcely a trail, more like a barely trodden path through densely packed trees and heavy undergrowth. No point training on groomed trails—there wouldn’t be any of those where the jump plane dropped them.
Jac was a smart runner, clearly gauging the terrain ahead in time to cut around fallen trees and other obstacles, skirting frozen patches of runoff in the shadow of boulders, at home in the mountains the way many rookies weren’t. Experienced firefighters didn’t always acclimate to mountain terrain. City fires held their own inherent dangers—burning buildings that collapsed in on themselves, trapping firefighters between floors, abandoned warehouses and garages filled with flammable chemicals, unstable rooftops that gave way underfoot. But the mountains waged war not with man-made artillery, but nature’s most fundamental weapon—the earth itself. Valleys acted like funnels, propelling flames on downdrafts to flank firefighters and cut them off from their escape routes. Mountain ridges hid advancing fire fronts until a blowup surged over a crest, catching a team far from its safety zone. Timber went up like tinder, fire soaring from treetop to treetop, a juggernaut of annihilation. Jac needed to be more than fast, she needed to be vigilant, and caution did not seem to be in her vocabulary.
Mallory dropped back a step to watch her. The pack on Jac’s back shifted a few inches from side to side with every long stride. Rookie mistake, running with that much weight and no coat to absorb the stress. Even so, she seemed comfortable, her breathing even, her stride regular. She was in excellent physical condition. Her shoulders were broad and muscled, tapering to a narrow waist and hips that weren’t much wider. Even in her heavy cargo pants, her ass was tight, her thighs muscular and hard-looking. She had a great body. Heavy tension coiled between Mallory’s legs.
Shock raced through her, nearly throwing her off stride. She didn’t look at women that way. Not even when she was interested in a date, and never in the field, never a fellow firefighter. She dated women who were easy to talk to, women whose interests were as far away from what she did every day as possible—teachers or businesswomen or waitresses. She didn’t date firefighters or forest rangers or cops or emergency medical personnel. She didn’t choose dates for their looks and didn’t care if they slept with her or not, as long as they were easygoing, quick to laugh, calm and steady. Jac was nothing like that. Jac was as tantalizing and dangerous as fire.
Mallory dropped back farther, needing space where there shouldn’t have been any connection at all.
Jac glanced back over her shoulder. “Want to stop and unload that jacket?”
“Just keep running, Russo, and watch where you’re going,” Mallory said.
Jac flashed her a cocky grin, jumped over a nest of fallen logs, and raced on, leaving a trail of spice and musk. Mallory kept her focus on the trail, running in Jac’s wake, Jac’s scent sliding over her skin.
*
Twenty-four minutes later, the end of the trail was in sight, and Jac slowed. She was ahead of Mallory, but she hadn’t outpaced her and didn’t want it to look as if she had when she reached the yard. Mallory could have overtaken her easily, but she’d never tried. Mallory ran right beside her, right where she’d been the entire run, still breathing easy, still cool and unruffled. Nothing to prove. Mallory knew how good she was. Another thing Jac liked about her, her self-assuredness. She wasn’t arrogant, didn’t need to throw her authority around. Confidence was sexy on a woman. But there was something, wasn’t there? Something that drove her to drive herself—the woman slept with her plane after all. And whatever was driving her probably put that haunted look in her eyes when she didn’t think anyone was looking. Jac had been looking, she just didn’t know how to ask.
Now sure wasn’t the time.
The last few miles had passed in total silence. All she’d been able to hear had been Mallory’s deep rhythmic breathing, the sigh of the wind, and the call of birds she never saw. She’d run in and out of patches of sunlight that heated her skin, making the shadows and cool breezes under the heavy canopy all the more welcome. She loved running through the woods, cloistered in semidarkness, enveloped by the sweet allure of honeysuckle. The flare of artillery against the night sky, the bright bursts of camera flashes on a raised podium, the crush of crowds at a political rally all disappeared. She could take a deep breath. Out here she could relax her vigilance, she could be free.
“Good run,” Jac called. She hadn’t looked at her watch, she didn’t need to. Her time was good, better than it would’ve been that morning. Running with Mallory inspired her. Her muscles felt looser, her blood richer, her mind clearer. “You’re a great partner.”
“What?” Mallory said, sounding shocked.
“Running. You’re great to run with. You bring out my best.”
Mallory laughed, an edge of disbelief or maybe denial sharpening her tone. “Do you always say the first thing that comes into your mind?”
“You have no idea how not true that is.” Jac stopped at the end of the trail, raised her leg behind her, and caught her foot, stretching her quads. She repeated the motion on the other leg.
Mallory mirrored her stretches. “What do you mean?”
“Remember what I told you about reporters? I learned pretty young to think twice before I spoke. The older I got, the longer I thought.”
“That sounds like a drag.”
Jac nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
“Well then,” Mallory said, her voice oddly gentle, “I’m glad you seem to have forgotten to do that recently.”
“Me too.” Jac had enough sense not to say the change in her normal hypervigilance was entirely due to Mallory. Being around Mallory made her want to be real—whatever that was for her anymore.
“How are your shoulders?” Mallory asked, sauntering out into the yard.
Following, Jac grinned. Nothing got past Mallory. “Little bit sore.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll bet.” Mallory narrowed her eyes at her. “Let’s head for the showers, and I’ll take a look at them.”
“So what’s the verdict?” Jac kept her voice low. The other four rookies lingered outside the standby shack, pretending they weren’t watching, but casting surreptitious glances in their direction, no doubt hoping to psych out her fate. She’d rather tell them the outcome herself, especially if it was going to be bad.
“Your time is good, but you don’t need me to tell you that,” Mallory said.
“But it’s not just about the time, is it?”
“You already know it isn’t.”
“But this morning, all that mattered was that we finished the course.”
“A lot can change in a few hours,” Mallory murmured.
“Yeah, I know.” Jac waved to the guys on her way into the building and headed for the showers. A lot had already changed between this morning and now, and all of it had to do with Mallory James.
*
Mallory followed Jac inside the shack, emptied her pack and stored her gear, and headed for the locker room to shower and change. She stumbled to a halt just inside the door, treated to the vision of Jac’s naked back and her firm butt in tight black briefs. She hadn’t considered they would be showering together, and if she had, she would’ve found some excuse to stop in her office first. She wasn’t shy about showering with other women. Seeing women naked wasn’t sexual for her, at least not when the goal was to wash away sweat and smoke in the aftermath of a long, hard shift. But then she hadn’t anticipated the effect of Jac being practically naked just a few feet away, and she should have. She’d been nearly mesmerized just watching her run, completely clothed. The naked version was bound to be just as captivating. She just hadn’t realized how much better.
Her throat was tight, and her heart pounded
so hard she was certain her T-shirt was vibrating. To make matters worse, Jac turned around and caught her staring. Jac’s eyebrows rose and her mouth lifted in an irritatingly knowing smile. And damn it, if she didn’t just stand there, relaxed and naked and so damn sexy.
“Something wrong?” Jac murmured.
“No,” Mallory said, relieved she sounded normal. At least, she thought she did. Her ears were ringing, so it was hard to tell. “I want to take a look at your shoulders. If you’re blistered, you’re not going to be comfortable in the safety harness, and you’re not going to jump until you are.”
“We’re going to jump soon?” Jac’s face brightened, her expression so innocently joyful, Mallory’s heart actually gave a little tug. She wouldn’t have believed that was possible.
“Like I said, it depends on your shoulders.”
Jac seemed completely unperturbed by her nearly nude state and leaned back against the lockers, resting her hands on her hips. Her torso was even better from the front than the back. Her breasts were small and round and tipped with pale chocolate nipples, neat and very hard.
“If you’re thinking about whether or not I can jump, does that mean I’m still in?”
“As far as everyone else is concerned, you’re in.” Mallory hoped she wasn’t making a mistake, seeing as her judgment was warped by the strange fog that enveloped her brain every time Jac was nearby. Jac was a puzzle she wanted to unravel, an unmarked door that invited opening, a whisper of secrets demanding to be unveiled.
“What’s the but?” Jac asked, her brows drawing down.
“But as far as you and I are concerned, you’re on probation.”
“Meaning what? If I piss you off I’m gone?”
“It’s not personal, Russo. I’m not saying I agree with your judgment call this morning, but I can’t argue with it either, considering that Ray got swift and appropriate treatment, and you’re no worse for the wear.” She peered at a red swatch she hadn’t seen earlier on the side of Jac’s neck. “Except for what looks like a pretty nasty scrape.” She angled around the bench and cupped Jac’s chin, turning her face away to get a look at the undersurface of her jaw. A half-inch-wide abrasion ran along the edge, the wound puffy and red. “Looks fairly deep. We’ll want to get that cleaned up and some antibiotic ointment on it.”
“I don’t remember getting scratched.” Jac reached up and Mallory caught her hand.
“Don’t touch it,” Mallory chided. “After you get showered, I’ll take a closer look and put some bacitracin on it.”
Jac laughed. “Does every rookie get such personalized attention?”
“No,” Mallory said, her throat tight enough to make her voice hoarse. Jac’s fingers closed around hers. They were warm, strong, surprisingly soft. Their bodies nearly touched. If she leaned forward another inch, their mouths would brush. Jac’s pupils widened, the deep brown of her irises condensing until her eyes were the black of a moonless night. Dark and seductive, and Mallory felt herself falling. She let go of Jac’s hand so quickly her balance shifted, and she shot out her arm to catch herself against the metal lockers behind Jac. Her breasts brushed over Jac’s, and her nipples instantly hardened. She shoved herself back off the lockers. “Sorry.”
“For what?” Jac asked, her voice low and husky.
Mallory licked her lips, her mouth so dry she wasn’t sure she could speak. “Shoulders. Turn around.”
Slowly, Jac pivoted and braced both arms against the lockers, spreading her legs slightly as if she were waiting to be patted down. Mallory had an image of herself pressing up tight against Jac’s ass, slipping her hands around the front of her body and running them over her collarbones, down over the swell of her breasts, along the tight columns of her abs. By the time she reached her thighs, she’d be molded to the swell of Jac’s ass, her breasts crushed to the arch of Jac’s back. Oh God, she was losing her mind.
“They’re red,” Mallory muttered, stepping to the side to get a closer look at Jac’s shoulders without touching any part of her body. She didn’t think she could control herself if she touched her right now, which was as confusing as it was infuriating. Even in the throes of passion she’d always maintained control. Always aware of her surroundings, part of her ready to pull back, pull away, adjust if the intimacy became too personal. “I think you’re getting a blister along the side of your neck.” Gingerly, she brushed the dark hair away from Jac’s nape. The instant she touched Jac’s skin, Jac jerked as if Mallory’s fingertips were electrified. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” Jac grunted, keeping her head down. Her arms were taut, the muscles banded in her biceps and forearms. Her shoulders were bunched, tight, anticipatory. Jac reminded Mallory of a jungle cat preparing to pounce, and she wasn’t sure she’d resist. Disgusted with her unprofessionalism and lack of control, Mallory backed up so quickly her calves smacked into the bench in the middle of the room. “Ow, damn it.”
Jac gave her a look over her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Dandy.”
“So, am I going to jump?” Jac asked, starting to turn.
Mallory held up her hand, wanting nothing more than to get out of Jac’s presence until she was able to rein in her runaway libido. “I want to take a look at your neck again later, make sure it’s not blistering. But if it’s no worse, yes, you can jump.”
“It’s nothing,” Jac insisted.
“No heroics, remember,” Mallory said. “Don’t make me give you any more demerits today.”
“Demerits? What is this, scout camp?”
Mallory laughed in spite of herself. “You’re impossible, you know that? Are you ever serious?”
“Only in secret.”
“What do you mean?” Mallory immediately regretted asking. The conversation had veered too close to home, like so many conversations with Jac seemed to do.
“If you don’t let on you care, it’s harder to get hurt, right?”
Mallory’s stomach twisted, and like a coward, she ran. “Not if you don’t want anything to begin with, and I don’t. I’m not in the market for anything.”
Jac regarded her steadily. “Then I guess you’re safe.”
“Take your shower, Russo, then come by the infirmary.” Mallory stepped over the bench, and the tightness in her chest eased. The distance helped. “I want to check on Ray, then we’ll do a little first aid on your neck and back.”
“I can take care of it.”
“Probably.” Mallory pulled the door open. “But I’ll do it better.”
Chapter Seven
Jac waited a full minute before pulling off her briefs—still watching the door, half hoping Mallory would walk back in. Mallory had left so quickly, Jac was still trying to figure out what she’d said or done to spook her. Whoever had nicknamed Mallory “Ice” didn’t know her very well, or maybe they did, but they just didn’t pay enough attention to what mattered. Ice wasn’t anywhere close to describing her. Mallory was cool all right, tightly wrapped and incredibly controlled, but there was fire licking at the undersurface of that ice. A pressure cooker of hot emotion, threatening to create a fissure where all that passion would come exploding out. The flames were there in Mallory’s eyes if you looked, and Jac had been looking.
Mallory had been looking at her too. Jac shuddered. The way Mallory’s gaze had tracked over her body had ignited her skin and turned her insides to molten lava. When Mallory had lingered on her breasts with her lips parted as if she couldn’t catch her breath, a drumbeat of need thudded in Jac’s stomach. She was glad she’d still had her briefs on, because she was instantly wet. Wet and hard and if Mallory had been any closer, she would have known. Any closer for any longer and Jac might’ve done something exceedingly uncool. Making a move on the training instructor was a really bad way to start boot camp.
Another minute passed and the locker room door didn’t open. Mallory didn’t come back. Jac’s skin bumped up in the cold air, and she brushed her hand over her chest as if that would warm her. S
he was hot, burning on the inside, but she shivered. Her fingertips brushed her breast and her stomach hollowed. She let her fingertips stray to her nipple, brushing lightly, knowing she’d regret getting herself worked up even more, but unwilling to relinquish the memory of Mallory being so close, almost touching her. The drumbeat moved lower, focused between her legs.
“I don’t need this.” Jac dragged her hand away from her breast. She stripped out of her briefs, grabbed a towel from a stack on a shelf opposite the lockers, and padded into the adjoining shower cubicle. Standing to one side, she wrenched on the dial and waited for the water to heat. As soon as it was steaming, she got under, braced her hands on the wall, and lowered her head to let the hot water pound over her neck and shoulders. Facing the wall, she immediately thought of leaning against the lockers with Mallory behind her. She’d gotten harder then, gotten wetter. She didn’t usually think about being taken, but she’d been thinking about it then. About Mallory’s mouth moving down the center of her back, about Mallory’s hands reaching around to hold her breasts and squeeze her nipples. She groaned and realized her fingers had found their way back to her breasts. No way she was going to get off in the shower when Mallory might change her mind and walk back in at any minute. That’s all she’d need to really convince Mallory she had a control problem. Besides making her look like a kid in summer camp, what did it say about her ability to handle the pressure of the job if she couldn’t control her own body after spending five minutes naked with a woman who hadn’t touched her and barely glanced at her?
“All it means is she turned you on something wicked. Not something you want her to know,” Jac muttered. She rubbed her hand up and down the center of her stomach, trying to coax some of the tension out of her belly. It didn’t help. Her hips flexed of their own accord, and her clitoris pulsed, sending a silent request for a little relief. “Damn it.”
“Oh hey, sorry! Didn’t mean to surprise you.”
