by Grey, Helen
We all watched as the man was lifted and then pulled into the belly of the helicopter. As soon as the Stokes basket was inside the chopper, it turned and took off back down the slope.
“Looks like he had a broken fibula, just below the knee. They’ll make sure he’s stabilized at the base camp, and then send him to the hospital in Butte,” Matt told the fire crew.
With their thanks, Matt and I climbed back onto the ATV and made our way carefully down the mountain, past our fire line, and down to the base camp. We arrived as the helicopter was taking off after unloading the injured man. Matt and I watched as an ambulance crew from Butte loaded the man, now on an ambulance gurney, into the vehicle and then drove off, lights flashing and siren blaring.
There was nothing more we could do now. I was glad that the man didn’t seem to be injured worse than he was.
Matt turned to me and then smiled. “Good rescue,” he said with satisfaction. “Let’s get a cup of coffee before we go back to the fire line.”
I looked up at him and nodded in agreement. I settled in the dining tent and watched Matt walk toward the folding table that had two large old-fashioned percolators sitting on it. Beside it were stacks of Styrofoam cups, and cups filled with creamer packets, a variety of sugars and sugar substitutes, stirrer sticks and a pile of small square napkins. He poured us each a cup of coffee and then turned back to the table, eyebrow raised. I shook my head, too tired to think. I’d drink it black at the moment. He placed one of the cups in front of me and then sat down across from me. We sipped for several moments. The coffee was hot and bitter, but it provided the jolt I needed.
I wanted to talk to him, although I wasn’t quite sure how to broach the topic. I took another sip, not meeting his eyes.
“What’s bothering you, Jesse?” he asked. “The guy’s going to be okay, you know that don’t you?”
I nodded. “Matt, there’s something I want to ask you about.” He said nothing, but merely stared at me. I sipped again. “I was talking to Sam this morning…”
Matt put his coffee cup down. I saw a change in his expression. Defensive. Wary.
“What is it?”
I guess the only way to get it out was to come right out and say it. I sighed. “Matt, why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” he asked, frowning, truly looking confused.
“From what I understand, you’re a billionaire—”
“So?”
“But why are you—”
“I don’t want to talk about that—”
“I was just wondering why you do the things that you do… endangering your life like this when you’ve got enough money… to live comfortably for the rest of your life.” I realized that I had overstepped when I saw his frown. I was surprised. I’d never seen Matt angry before, and I instantly regretted mentioning it. I don’t know if what I said came out the wrong way or what, but the next thing I knew, Matt was standing over me. His frown had turned into a scowl.
“You don’t know anything about me—”
“Matt, I’m just trying to understand—”
“And why is that so important, Jessica?” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “What does my past have to do with anything?”
To say I was taken off guard by his reaction would be the understatement of the year. “Matt, I didn’t mean anything by it! I was just—”
“Being nosy?”
That hurt. “Curious!” I snapped back. I tried not to feel hurt. Tried not to feel a sense of betrayal. After the things we had done last night in the sleeping bag… my gushing out my feelings to him in the truck bed in Santa Fe… didn’t that mean anything to him? What had he gotten out of it? An orgasm? I shook my head. I didn’t think Matt was that kind of a guy. But why was he so angry? Why so defensive?
“Like I said, Jessica, you don’t know anything about me.”
I frowned at his use of my full name for the second time. Another sign that he was truly annoyed. “And whose fault is that?” I asked. “Look, Matt, I’m not trying to pry into your personal life—”
“And what do you call this?” he demanded.
I didn’t know why he was so angry. I tried to apologize. “I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to understand you. After all, I poured my heart out to you the other night and—”
“And what?” He shook his head, gazing off into the distance outside the tent. “You think that I owe you an explanation? Because I don’t.”
I felt shocked, disappointed, and yes, hurt. “Matt, I didn’t mean to—”
“Jessica, I like you, no doubt about it, but my private life is my own. Just because you want to talk about yours, or feel the need to, doesn’t mean that I do.” He set his cup of coffee back down on the table so hard that some of its sloshed over the side. He abruptly turned and stalked out of the tent.
Matt!” I left my coffee on the table and followed. “Matt!”
He spun around, his face twisted with anger. I think I also saw a bit of anguish, although I could have been mistaken. His response took me by surprise, and to be honest, I felt cut to the core. And annoyed. I didn’t deserve such a reaction. “Matt, I’m just trying to understand!”
“It’s none of your business, Jessica,” he snapped.
I stopped stock still, staring up at him in dismay. Unbidden, tears burned my eyelids. I’d be damned if I let him see how his words hurt. I shook my head, refusing to let his words hurt me. “Matt, we’re partners—”
“Back off, Jessica,” he said. He pointed his finger at me. I stared up at him, my mouth open in surprise. “If you know what’s good for you, back off.”
He stalked off and this time I let him, stunned by the ferocity of his response.
What did he mean by that? Back off? Back off of what? Damn him! Did he think I was interested in his money? I could care less about his money! Money didn’t make the person.
If not the money, why was he so upset? I hadn’t mentioned his family. All I wanted to know was what compelled a man in Matt’s position in life, or perceived position, to do the things he did? Yes, he was generous. Yes, he was giving. And yes, he was driven. I was just curious about what made him that way. Was it inbred? Had he become a nurse, a firefighter because of his past, like I did? I had just wanted to share that with him—yet another connection between us, painful as it was.
I knew I couldn’t spend much time dwelling on Matt’s unexpected and hurtful response to my innocent question. I tried not to be angry with him for it, but it was difficult. Still, he was right. Just because I had gushed my heart out to him didn’t mean that he had to reciprocate.
I stood at the edge of the base camp, staring unseeing at all the activity going on around me. I had no idea where Matt had disappeared. I knew I should get back to the fire line, but the crew transport truck servicing our fire line hadn’t yet arrived. If it wasn’t here, it would likely be up at one of the lines, loading up another group to bring down. It operated much like a shuttle service; I knew it would probably be soon when it returned. Other crew trucks kept busy unloading and offloading their crews, back and forth from different sections of the line.
I sat down on a stump just inside the tree line off behind the dining tent, fighting back tears. What the hell? I didn’t need to get emotional over Matt. I guess I had just touched a sensitive spot. Honest mistake. Still, his reaction angered me and at the same time hurt. He had overreacted, no doubt about it and I would be careful not to overstep my bounds again, but—
“Jesse.”
The voice came from behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know that it was Matt.
I didn’t say anything. Not because I was afraid to, but because I was sure that if I did, he would hear the waiver in my voice. My emotions were in turmoil. Anger mixed with a combination of hurt and betrayal. He had no right to get angry with me for asking a question. He didn’t have to bite my head off. All he had to say was that he didn’t feel like talking about it… which he had. I sighed.
I fel
t his hands on my shoulders. A gentle squeeze. Despite my confused feelings, my annoyance and my hurt, I felt the tingle of attraction shoot through me. Damn his stupid sexual chemistry! All it took was one touch and I was ready to melt. I wanted to fight it, wanted to give up and stalk off without looking at him, but I couldn’t.
I turned to look at him over my shoulder, trying to ignore the anger, the sheen of tears that I was forced to blink back, but I was surprised to find him crouching down behind me. Without a word, he grabbed my head and kissed me, the kiss fueled with so much emotion that I was startled. It was fierce, demanding and forceful.
His tongue plunged deeply into my mouth as he wrapped his arms around me, compelling me to stand. He broke off the kiss for only a brief instant as he stepped deeper into the woods. I found myself with my back pressed against a tree, the underbrush, the forest, the density of the growth shielding us from anybody in camp, a mere twenty or so yards away.
I stared up at him in surprise. His eyes bore into mine, his jaw clenched so tightly I could see the muscles twitching in his jaw. Then he was kissing me again. Wild, almost desperate. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer. He pulled my T-shirt from my pants and, in seconds, both his hands made their way up and over my ribs. He shoved my bra up over my breasts and then cupped both of them in his hands, squeezing, kneading, a thumb circling my nipple.
I knew I should stop him. I knew that nobody could see us. I felt self-conscious. I also knew the feelings he was evoking in me. I was still emotionally vulnerable from the way he had responded to me, but I couldn’t help my physical response to his touch.
I didn’t understand it. Couldn’t. Didn’t want to.
All I knew was that I wanted him. No, I ached for him.
As he’d done to me moments ago, I did to him. My palms made their way under his T-shirt, felt his strong muscles, his rib cage, his broad chest, his own small nipples.
His hands left my breasts and reached down to unbutton and unzip my pants. With a growl of impatience, he shoved them down around my knees. I wasn’t wearing any underwear. No need to out here; they would just get hot and sweaty and leave me feeling uncomfortable and chaffed. I was so surprised by the action that I froze. My hands were still on his chest. After he had my pants down around my knees, he reached for his own. He unbuttoned the fly of his pants.
He stood close against me, his cock now fully erect, hard, and ready, pressed up against my groin and my lower abdomen. Hot, demanding, urgent.
My pussy throbbed with desire, despite the environment. Maybe that’s what made it so exciting… knowing that, at any moment, we would be caught or watched by others. It seems as if Matt didn’t care either. He was so… emotional. His lips came down on mine again. This was not a gentle kiss. This was a kiss filled with silent words; a conversation that we couldn’t have. He teased my mouth open with his tongue and as it delved inside, I felt his hot cock delve between my legs, the tip of his head seeking my slit. Then, with one powerful shove, he was inside me. I had never seen him like this before, never felt such desperation from him.
But I wasn’t protected, and neither was he. I pulled back from his caress, stared up at him, and I think he realized it at the same time. Gritting his teeth, he surged deep inside me, hard. Once, twice, and then he pulled out. I glanced down. His cock was already slick with my wetness. It was engorged, the veins thick and firm, throbbing above the surface of his gorgeous shaft. Feeling exposed, I quickly yanked my pants up, but he remained standing.
I sank to my knees in front of him.
He rested his hands on the trunk of the tree above me, where my back had rested just moments ago. I took him into my mouth. He barely held himself in check. With one fist wrapped around the base of his cock, I used my tongue and my lips to pleasure him. With every contraction of his buttocks as he tried not to pump furiously, I teased him, but not too much. My tongue stroked up his length, then curled around it as far as it would go and down it went. Up, lick and suck on the head, then down again.
We were both feeling such a surge of emotion that I was afraid I would lose control. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to fill me. But without protection, I couldn’t allow it. I couldn’t take chances.
I didn’t want him shoving his cock down my throat, so, using my hand, I regulated how far he could go. My other hand reached between his legs and cupped and massaged his balls through the fabric of his pants.
I glanced up at him as I swirled the tip of my tongue around his head. I saw the muscles in his arms as he grasped the tree, his eyes closed, squeezed tightly shut, his jaw clenched. I don’t know what thoughts were running through his mind at this moment, but I also realized that I forgave him. I probably always would. I eased back on the ferocious, erratic actions of my tongue and I quit sucking him quite so hard. I became gentler, more comforting, and in a matter of seconds, he too relaxed.
Seconds after that, I felt the upward waves of his climax making its way up his cock. I quickly lifted my shirt and continued to pump his cock as he climaxed, his hot, thick, milky cum squirting onto my stomach once, twice, three times.
He remained still for several seconds. I reached down, grabbed a handful of leaves off the forest floor, and cleaned the semen off my stomach. I stood upright, between his arms, calmly zipping and buttoning my pants, my eyes never leaving his. He pushed away from the tree, not looking at me, but off into the distance. He reached for his now half-flaccid cock and shoved it back into his pants, and then calmly buttoned himself up.
I watched him as he slowly looked at me. In his eyes, I saw something that I had never seen from him before. Uncertainty? Confusion? Wariness? What was that all about? Without another word, he turned and walked away from me, through the trees and back into the base camp, where he disappeared among dozens of other firefighters, leaving me standing there in stunned dismay.
Chapter 3
To say I was feeling hurt was an understatement. I returned to the stump I’d been sitting on only moments ago and stared off into the distance, up at the orange smoke glowing like an aura around the mountaintops. Watching. The smoke and ash once again got into my eyes, my nose, making me want to constantly blink, but I didn’t think it was the smoke or the ash that was making my eyes water now.
Eventually, I return to the fire line, took out my anger and frustration on the brush, my shovel piercing the dirt, my ax chopping furiously at branches, underbrush, until I felt so exhausted I had no doubt that if and when I stopped, even for a second, I would collapse into a heap on the ground.
Several hours later, the crew truck returned to take us back to the base camp. Ten of us climbed wearily inside. I nodded at Samantha—Sam—but we were both too tired to speak. I glanced over the dirty, sweating, and exhausted faces of the others, but didn’t see Matt’s among them. Where was he? I felt a niggling of concern and then decided that I shouldn’t. Matt could take care of himself. He was an experienced Hotshot. He was probably already back at base camp.
I had to shut off my emotions or I was going to lose focus. I had never felt this way, and especially not at a fire scene. Never before had I felt so unbalanced. I needed to get a handle on my emotions, and fast. Up here, fighting wildfire, I needed all my concentration focused on one thing and one thing only. The fire. I didn’t have the time or the luxury to worry about feelings, what was going on with Matt, or my own reaction to him.
Our mad coupling just behind the base camp was a perfect example of me losing control. Angry sex. That’s what that had been. Hadn’t it? Still, no emotional connection or attachment between us, at least on Matt’s part. Oh, no mistake, I had feelings for Matt. But were they only sexual? Was everything I felt for Matt based on my sexual and chemical attraction to him? Once again, I shook my head. Stop it! Focus.
When we got to the base camp, I followed the others wearily off the transport vehicle, and then stumbled my way to my tent. A number of men and women were already sleeping, buried deep in their sleeping bags. The soun
d of snoring wasn’t aggravating. Instead, it brought a sense of comfort. I made my way to my sleeping bag at the back end of the tent. It looked like Matt was there, fully enveloped in his bag like a cocoon. I didn’t bother him, but wearily climbed into my bag, my mind numb, my body exhausted, my spirits lower than low.
***
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep before I woke with a jolt. I felt arms wrapped around me and I stiffened immediately. What the hell? Fear and adrenaline kicked in. Someone was holding me down in my sleeping bag. I opened my mouth, prepared to scream—
“Settle down, Jesse, it’s just me.”
I froze. Matt? Was he in my sleeping bag? Why? I knew I was exhausted, but I should’ve felt—no, he wasn’t in my sleeping bag, just lying next to me in his own. We were spooning, if you could spoon through the thickness of sleeping bags. His right arm held me close to him. Still, I stiffened. I didn’t want to have sex with him again. In fact, until we cleared the air between us, I was prepared to tell him just that. I wasn’t about to be used as nothing more than a release for him. Not after I’d felt a connection with him in his truck, after telling him about my past. I had felt that connection ever since. Didn’t he feel it too?
The belief that that connection was as strong as I thought it was had faded somewhat after his angry response to me in the dining tent. He had sounded so determined not to open up or emotionally expose himself. That’s not the kind of relationship I wanted and if Matt wasn’t willing to be totally honest with me, then I didn’t want to continue whatever it was we were doing.
That wasn’t fair to each of us. I wasn’t about to get myself embroiled in a lop-sided relationship. I already knew that I was developing feelings for him, strong feelings. Feelings of affection, respect, and although those feelings may have stemmed from an initial—and intense—sexual attraction and desire for him, they were still there. Still, I wasn’t about to open my heart up to him if he wasn’t willing to do the same. For one, I didn’t need the heartache, nor the pain that such a rejection would bring. Second, I wasn’t about to get emotionally involved with someone who was unwilling to reciprocate.
