Scorch (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 6)

by Piper Stone

  Taking long strides, he threw open the door, half expecting for the entire team to be waiting in the main room, clapping, hollering or worse, tossing condoms in his direction. The place was empty. “Huh.” Even his exclamation echoed in the expansive space. He waved to Katie Myers and kept his head down. However, he noticed the smug smile on her face, as if she knew something that he didn’t. Just wait until she found out he’d fixed her up with the deputy. She would come out swinging. Grousing, he was able to hear various voices, the usual bantering from the crew as he walked into the locker room.

  Garcia waved as he thumped down on the bench, tying his athletic shoes. Antonio gave him a single look before grabbing a towel and moving quickly toward the door. Even Riker seemed busy, having a rather intense conversation with Landen, both men animated, full of testosterone. Well, maybe they were all concentrating on the five-mile run they were facing.

  Exhaling, he was thankful the news had yet to find its way here. Shit he didn’t need. He dropped his bag, trying to listen for any other tell-tale signs of mischief as he opened his locker.

  Boing!

  The noise was comical. The colorful streams of crepe paper, confetti and what appeared to be not one but two blow-up dolls floating in his direction was enough to give him heartburn. “What. The. Fuck?”

  Within seconds, he heard snickers, rippling laughter then finally howls as every smokejumper, Cooper and Tyler and the captain crowded into the locker room, all clapping and cheering.

  “Our boy managed to get laid!” Cooper shouted.

  “About time!” Riker added.

  “Woo-hoo. Need some pointers?” Stoker asked as he sauntered toward Sawyer, a shit eating grin on his face.

  “I am going to kill each and every one of you in a painfully slow and horrifically bloody manner. Do you hear me?” While he kept his tone and voice even, Sawyer wasn’t entirely certain whether he wanted to be pissed, incensed or tickled. Maybe all three.

  Boone rubbed his hands together as he strutted closer. “Let’s see what we have here, boys. A man who could be facing a serious criminal record.”

  “Who knew he had it in him?” Garcia snarked.

  Sawyer pulled at the female blow-up doll, holding the oversized plastic piece into the light. He could do one of two things, stick his tail between his legs or play up the joke. Hell, he refused to be a wallflower. Wrapping his arms around the doll, he planted a wet one on her scarlet lips, making an intense sucking sound.

  “Whoa!” Several of the men said.

  “Now, we know his type,” Antonio popped in.

  Turning in a full circle, Sawyer kept the smooch going until the captain clapped his hands.

  “Enough, boys. You have a run to get to.” The authoritative tone in the captain’s voice was replaced by a round of laughter, enough so he covered his mouth with his hand.

  The entire team began to laugh, patting Sawyer on the back.

  Until the captain started coughing. Then choking.

  The laughter died, and Stoker was the first to move in Captain Phillips’ direction. “You okay, Cap’n?”

  Doubling over, the captain continued coughing, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Shit. Get him on the bench!” Riker directed, bolting in the man’s direction.

  Captain Phillips held out his hand and took a deep breath. After a few seconds, he wiped his mouth and stood to his full height, his eyes watering. “Sorry about that. Just the thought of Sawyer with a hot woman was too much for me to handle.”

  Sawyer registered the amusement on the man’s face, but he noticed something else. Fear in the man’s eyes. Sliding the doll onto the floor, he gave Boone a concerned look, knowing his buddy could read his facial expression.

  “You sure, Cap’n? You don’t look so good,” Landen added, flanking Riker’s side.

  “Well,” the captain said then coughed again before clearing his throat. “Thank you very much. You look like shit yourself. Now, training time.” He winked at Sawyer before making a beeline out of the locker room.

  “What the hell was that?” Boone asked, moving closer to Sawyer.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” Sawyer certainly wasn’t going to bring up the retirement conversation now, but he needed to talk to somebody about what was going on. No sense in upsetting the rest of the team.

  “He hasn’t been himself lately,” Cooper said as he walked closer. “Maybe his wife has taken another bad turn.”

  “He’s so private,” Boone commented.

  “Yeah, very much so,” Sawyer half whispered, a sickening feeling remaining in the pit of his stomach.

  “Let’s get going, boys. Maybe we can have a quiet afternoon.” Antonio grinned as he beckoned for the group.

  Cooper winked before walking away.

  “So, did Carter call the entire group with the news?” Sawyer risked asking.

  Boone popped him on the back. “You bet.”

  “Shit.” His thoughts shifted to Reese. Her amazing mouth, the way she sucked his cock. Her fingers, the way she touched. Her tongue… He swallowed hard, shoving away the lurid memories. He had a feeling given last night’s fiasco that he was never going to see her again.

  “Nah. The truth is, he wanted me to know that Katrina Dreyfus has a pre-trial appearance the end of the week. I guess she’s planning on pleading not guilty.”

  “To torturing the love of your life and burning down your house?” Sawyer’s anger was on the increase. His best buddy finding his house torched, Stasha abducted, suffering different methods of torture and the slick blonde thought she was going to get away with her crimes?

  “Hey. The sheriff isn’t entirely certain that Bo Dreyfus wasn’t to blame.”

  “I can’t believe that shithead is still on the run.”

  “Yeah, me neither.” Boone exhaled and shook his head. “I just wish the nightmare was over.”

  “How’s Stasha in all of this?” Sawyer yanked out his running shoes.

  “I haven’t told her yet. She’s a trooper, but you know women. They can go through anything. Besides,” Boone said as he grinned, “she’s too busy telling me how the new house should be designed.”

  “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

  Boone chuckled. “I do love that spunky girl, but she is pushy.

  “Ya think?” Rolling his eyes, he sat down on the bench, pushing the bobbing dolls out of his way.

  “Oh, I know.” Boone grabbed a couple of towels. “Hey. Want to do something with me after the run?”

  “If it’s going to get me in any additional trouble. No way.”

  “Just a ride.”

  “To?” He finished tying his shoes and stood, walking with Boone toward the door. He couldn’t help but take another look at the blow-up dolls. He did indeed love the guys.

  “Just across the line.”

  “A bar? Purchasing a new horse. What?”

  Boone issued a wry smile. “Idaho. Harriman State Park to be exact.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a truck ride.”

  “No, helicopter.”

  Stopping short, Sawyer groaned. “Did I ever tell you that I hate to fly?”

  Reese glared at her reflection for the fifth time, twisting back and forth. From where she stood, she could see the number of suits and blouses she’d tried on that morning and realized her time was running short. She had to be at the courthouse, ready, willing and able to pretend she gave a damn in… Stealing a glance at her watch, she groaned. Thirty minutes. Thank God, she was only a ten-minute drive away. The moment she’d shifted back and forth, she was reminded of the spanking she’d received the night before. While she hadn’t bruised, she could still feel his handprints or maybe just his hands. Biting her lower lip, she gripped the edge of the dresser, allowing her rather wicked thoughts to take her into fantasyland.

  She’d craved a firm hand, which had reared its ugly head, allowing her to make the poor judgment getting involved with Christopher in the fi
rst place. But Sawyer was different. Kind. Dominating. Single. Yeah, there was that. And he didn’t have any attachments. Even better.

  Closing her eyes, she envisioned his carved face, his strong jaw and mesmerizing eyes. Domestic discipline. Domestic bliss. Yes…

  “You’re home early,” Reese said as she walked into the kitchen. Seeing Sawyer’s pensive face, her legs began to tremble. She hadn’t been the best girl as of late and lying to him didn’t bode well. Ever.

  “I had a reason. Do you want to tell me about it?” Sawyer pushed up his sleeves, moving the dense material over his elbows. He stood with his hands on his hips, an authoritative expression remaining on his face.

  Uh-oh. She sucked in her breath as she took off her suit jacket, carefully placing everything in a neat pile on the kitchen chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Hmmm… Well, I had a call from the bank today. Seems that someone in our house overdrew our operating account and it wasn’t me, given I’ve been fighting very dangerous fires in another state for several days. So, I ask you again. Is there something that you need to tell me?”

  Grimacing, she walked closer, trying her best to find the right apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d created an overdraft. It won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right. It won’t, and do you know why?”

  “Because you trust me?” Her voice was almost inaudible, even childlike.

  “I do, my love. However, I think you need a strong reminder. Very strong. Don’t you?” He walked closer, lowering his head.

  Reese had never felt so small. “Yes, sir.”

  “Take off your skirt and your panties and lean over the counter. Let’s do this now. I’m not angry. Just disappointed.” Sawyer unbuckled his belt.

  “I’m so sorry, sir.” Oh. My. God. He was using his belt. He was pissed. Then again, she deserved the harsh punishment. “I just…”

  “Reese. Follow my orders.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pouting wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She kicked off her shoes, trying her very best not to revert into a total child. Spankings were necessary. Following rules was required. Then why did she want to beg to get out of this? When she’d complied to his direction, she leaned against the counter, placing her hands on either side.

  “Widen your legs for me.”

  She did as she was told. When he brushed his hand against both ass cheeks, she moaned and could see him out of the corner of her eye folding the strap. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “I understand.”

  Crack! Slap!

  “Oh, God!”

  Smack! Crack!

  “We’re going to talk about some additional rules during dinner,” Sawyer stated, his tone soft and comforting.

  “Yes… Yes, sir.”

  Pop! Slap! Crack!

  An elongated moan pushed past Reese’s lips as she forced away the delicious vision. Christ. She was wet, her pussy clenching and she wanted nothing more than to find Sawyer and beg for a hard spanking. “Whew.” She needed to get control. Now. She brushed her hand over her bun, making certain all the hair remained in place then turned her concentration back to her now overheated reflection.

  The dark purple suit with a blushing, muted blouse was going to have to do. She fiddled with her hair, sliding the same damn strand behind her ear. If she had any good sense, she’d cut the thing off. No. She was overreacting. But because of last night or the closing on the case? Both. Selecting a necklace, she stood back, giving herself a final check before grabbing her suit jacket.

  She hadn’t managed to write a single line on the closing argument, which meant she was going to have to wing it. And on a case like this? She was bucking for trouble. However, she was talented and had worked on various cases without bothering to write down a single paragraph. Today was just another case.

  Who was she trying to fool? The entire weight of the world was on her shoulders. She snagged the rest of her things and headed out into the hall, slapping her hand on the elevator button. Smoothing down her skirt, she pictured Walker Tatum in her mind and all the evidence against him. Yes, she had to admit that a lot of the information was trumped up, some even thought to be fabricated in an effort for the prosecution to send him away to prison. Sighing, she slapped her hand on the button a second time. Then a third.

  Patience she didn’t have. Not today. Not ever.

  Grumbling, she took the stairs. The dampness of the concrete floors always surprised her, even in the intense heat. She loathed the area, avoided the shadowy spot at all times, but today, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  The humidity hit her in the face, creating strings of sweat trickling down her back. Even the sensations reminded her of Walker and his words, the way he narrowed his eyes, undressing her. Shuddering, she shifted her thoughts to Sawyer and broke into a smile. While their time together had been cut short, at least in her opinion, she adored the spontaneity as well as everything else about the sexy man. Dangerous. Delicious. He was the whole package.

  And why hadn’t she gotten his number again? Oh, yes. The damn deputy. Rolling her eyes, she bounded into the underground garage, struggling to find her keys. Once inside, she turned on the air conditioning full blast. Neither the heat of embarrassment, lack of preparation or desire for one hunky smokejumper could interfere today. She had to be on her game one thousand percent.

  As if she gave a damn.

  “Don’t think that way. You can do this.” She could. Now, all she had to figure out was how to lose her case without anyone else knowing she’d purposely done so. This called for her most latent conniving skills. What would her mother and father think of her now? She resisted snarling. Which set of them?

  Ten minutes later, she stood in front of the courthouse, her legs shaking. As she glanced up along one of the stone columns, she realized she’d never paid attention to how gothic or terrifying the aging building looked. Perhaps the architects thought the massive front would be inviting, impressive. For her, the entire building screamed of oppression.

  Clutching her things, she tried to keep her back straight as she walked inside, moving through security. As she walked around the corner, heading for the assigned courtroom, she could see Carter in the distance.

  The moment he noticed her, he smiled, the look knowing. “Good morning, Miss Winton. How was your night?”

  “Just fine, Deputy Worth. Any last-minute changes on the docket?” Reese knew exactly what he was thinking by the twinkle in his eyes.

  “Everything is on schedule. The prosecution is already inside.”

  She let out a deep sigh and studied the set of double doors. “Why do I not want to do this?” While the words were certainly not meant for anyone to hear, the slight echo in the hallway allowed her statement to float.

  “You’ll do just fine and what’s necessary,” Carter offered, keeping his voice low.

  Snuffing, she gave him a half smile. “No, I’m doing my job.” The moment she opened the door, another chill rushed down her spine. She wasn’t prepared for this. She couldn’t do this. She hated her job. Instead of running out of the courthouse and locking herself in her condo, she proceeded to walk in a straight line, smiling brightly at the prosecuting attorney. At least the little man seemed as on edge as she was. Walker’s father was in the courtroom, along with several members of his family as well as more than a few reporters. They were all waiting to see what blood was going to be drawn.

  The moment she sat down, the door leading to the holding cells was opened. Walker Tatum was led out, his wrists and ankles manacled. She held her breath and realized just how deceiving his looks really were. He was damn good looking, almost demure yet very sophisticated. The suit was no doubt new and cost more than she made in a month, the tie raw silk and she would guess sent all the way from Paris. And his crisp, starched white shirt dripping conservative and believable.

  And she could tell by the looks on the faces of the jury that she was in trouble. They believed in his inn
ocence.

  As Walker was led closer, he turned his gaze, locking on her face, his eyes sliding down to her blouse, her waist, her skirt then her legs.

  She could swear the man was licking his lips. The second he sat down next to her, she could feel his heated breath, could almost tell what he was thinking. Beads of sweat formed over her lips and she had to fight to keep from wiping them away. Keep your cool. Do your job. Tomorrow is another day.

  Walker leaned closer. “I have complete faith in your abilities, Miss Winton. You are a spectacular woman.”

  A woman who’d never felt so disgusting in her life. As she looked at her boss as well as the congressman, she knew exactly what they were thinking.

  Win this case or else.

  “Come on. Let’s get going. Won’t take that long. Besides, Stasha needs my help at the clinic so I don’t have that long.” Boone laughed as he half jogged toward the waiting helicopter.

  “The sexy girl has you wrapped,” Sawyer teased.

  “Uh-huh. And you should talk. You are absolutely out of sorts today.”

  Out of sorts. The nightmare had awakened him and kept him awake, the memory far too painful to relive yet again. Sawyer hung back, staring at the steel and glass beast. Yeah, to him the damn bird was powerful and terrifying, but there was no way to get out of this. His feet heavy, he trudged along.

  “Did that run kick your ass or something?” Boone tossed a bag into the back and hopped into the driver’s seat.

  “No. Everything is fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

  “Like that sexy gal of yours? Did you know she’s the defense attorney for that serial killer they brought into town?”

  The words eventually filtered their way into his working mind. “What?” Carefully climbing onto the passenger seat, he looked immediately for the seatbelt, cognizant of the funny looks he was getting from Boone.

  Boone flipped on various buttons, nodding as he studied the gauges. “Yep. Walker Tatum? That guy who tortured those three women in Billings. Brought him here to his hometown to get a fair trial. If you ask me, they should throw him in a large pit with only his head sticking out. The things that could be done.”