Scorch (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 6)

by Piper Stone

  “Just be glad it’s over,” Stasha stated with her usual nasty flair. “Enough of talking about assholes. Boone mentioned that one of the smokejumpers is running off and getting married. I want to help throw a big bachelorette party. Will you help?”

  Choking on her coffee, an entire stream flew out of her mouth. Grabbing a napkin, she coughed again before she could speak. “Me? I don’t know what in the hell I’d add to the mix.”

  “I want you to meet some of the girls. I mean, since you’re going to be a part of the pack and all, dating one fine looking jumper.” Running her finger around the lip of her cup, a devious smile crossed her face.

  “The pack? You make it sound like some cult.”

  “Well, kind of.”

  “And we haven’t gone out on a date. Yet,” Reese reminded her. But damn, she wanted to. Sighing, she had no idea how to get in touch with him. She could go to this hanger he mentioned and stalk him. Oh, that would go over well.

  “I’m certain I can get his number for you. The party will be fun. Nothing special and you’ll love the other girls. I wasn’t certain what to expect the first time I met them, but they’re all great. I really want you involved with the party. Please say you’ll help.”

  Reese wrinkled her nose. She loathed parties.

  “Pretty please and I won’t tease you a minute more about Sawyer.”

  “Fine. Okay, but you better keep your end of the bargain.”

  Stasha squealed. “Excellent. I think we’re trying for next Tuesday or Wednesday. I’ll firm up the details. We’ll get together for drinks before and plot. Shannon won’t know what hit her.”

  “The bar owner?” Reese remembered how witty or maybe sarcastic the woman was. She garnered one last look at Christopher as the happy couple walked around a corner then shoved the experience into the back of her mind. Time to move on.

  “The very one. She’ll keep Landen on his toes. Trust me.” She sat back, crossing her leg over the other. “How was court? Should I even ask?”

  “Brutal. That’s all I’m going to say. I have no idea how I was able to endure the case. Three weeks of pretending to give a damn. Three weeks of taking extra showers. Three weeks of his lurid comments, sexual innuendoes. I am taking a few days off whether my boss approves or not. I know I shouldn’t say this, but I can’t wait to see that man go to prison. The second the verdict is read, I will race out of the courtroom, and purchase a bottle of champagne.”

  “Wait a minute. I thought you were defending him.”

  Reese huffed. “I was, only because my boss is in tight with Walker’s father, the great Congressman Richard Tatum, and I did my best, even though I vomited inside a little every night. Let’s not talk about the case at all. Nothing. Zero. I did my time with a raging lunatic.”

  “Wow, Miss Defender. Okay. Let’s talk about hot men, particularly a couple of chiseled, hunky smokejumpers. Is that better?” Stasha purred.

  “Much, even though you’re a bad influence but no teasing. That’s the deal.” She turned away from the window on purpose, savoring the intense rush of desire as she thought about riding him like a wild cowgirl. “You know, Sawyer is absolutely sexy as hell. I mean with those intense eyes of his and his muscles. Whew. I could munch on his body for a solid week. And I will say this, his cock is huge.” She could see Stasha’s eyes getting bigger and bigger, then shift to utter joy. A wash of anxiety filtered into her system. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. “He’s right behind me. Isn’t he?”

  Stasha nodded before she tried to hide behind her coffee cup.

  “Hello, ladies. How are you on this beautiful day?”

  His voice, sultry and oh-so deep had an even huskier tone on this late afternoon. Swallowing hard, she could tell exactly what Stasha was thinking She knew in her gut that he’d heard every word spouted out of her mouth. Trying her best not to fan her overheated face, she tipped her head, plastering on a practiced smile. “Sawyer. How are you?”

  He leaned down, blowing a sensuous puff of air across her cheek and whispering. “Much, much better now.”

  Reese knew that her nipples had hardened, creating little spikes inside her bra. She clenched her legs together, praying to God that her panties didn’t leave a stain on the seat. “Mmm…”

  Sawyer kept his hand on her arm, his fingers dancing across her shoulder. “I was remiss in asking for your number before. I hope you won’t mind giving in. I mean giving it up.” His laugh was sultry, laced with a hint of wickedness given his purposeful slip.

  “Whew,” Stasha whispered as she licked her lips.

  “My number. Only if you’re a good boy,” Reese countered.

  “You know what?” Stasha pushed her coffee aside and grabbed her purse. “I think I need to get home. You know Boone. Evenings are his time for all things wicked.” She winked before easing out of the chair. “I’ll call you tomorrow about the other thing.”

  “Okay. Sure. Yes. Please.” Hearing the stilted tone of her voice, Reese groaned inwardly. This man drove her absolutely wild.

  “Good to see you, Stash.” Sawyer kept the low and husky tone as he slid into Stasha’s seat, leaning forward, his eyes penetrating. Longing. Knowing.

  She bit her lower lip as she dropped her hands into her lap, noticing her skirt was barely covering her lace covered mound. “How was work?” She wiggled in an effort to slide the skirt down her legs.

  He gave her a once over before inhaling deeply, another smile crossing his face. “Interesting as always.”

  “Did the other smokejumpers hear about last night?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

  “Yep. Everyone knew. Made certain I was aware they learned every sinful detail.”

  “Wonderful. Just wonderful.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Composure. Control. Both had been thrown out the window the moment he sat down.

  Grinning, he leaned even further forward. “How about dinner tonight?”

  “I’d love to.” She was shocked she answered without a single hesitation. But damn. This man. This moment. His hand. His spanking.

  “I need to grab a shower, but we can go anywhere you’d like.”

  “That would be heavenly.”

  “I could even make you dinner. You’d get to know my ranch,” Sawyer said as he brushed his finger across the top of her hand.

  “You cook?” If he cooked as well as he fucked, she wasn’t certain she could handle the heat. Her mouth suddenly dry, she almost knocked over the now bitter coffee.

  “I love to dabble in the kitchen. Don’t tell anyone or I’ll get an even worse reputation. The team is brutal.”

  She shivered at his touch, her mind racing to very kinky places. “Your secret is safe with me. Besides, I love food.”

  “Succulent food? Ripe and full of flavor?” He absently brushed his finger down her arm.

  The man was giving her the full court press. She blinked as her pussy clenched again. This was insane. She could feel the tingling popping along her legs, could feel her heart racing.

  “The kind you lick at first, taking your time before sucking all the juices, enjoying the way the sweet liquid slides down your throat?”

  Reese heard the single moan pushing past her lips and was no longer able to breathe. “I thought I was doing the licking.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Real men adore tasting. Licking every drop, relishing the sweet yet spicy flavor.”

  “Um…” She had to fight to keep from panting or from reaching under the table. Her pussy was now quivering, as if a climax was just around the corner. No. No! This couldn’t happen here. Not in front of him. “What if I’m very hungry?”

  Sawyer swirled his finger around and around in lazy circles. “Well, then if you’re a very good girl and follow the rules, you can have anything you want.”

  “And if I’m bad, I mean terribly naughty, disobeying you?” She could no longer recognize her voice.

  He cocked his head, pursing his lips as he continued moving his finger back
and forth in a lazy manner. “Well, then I guess I’ll have to pull off my belt. My thick. Leather. Strap.”

  An actual moan left her lips followed by a noise that she would never be able to describe as her pussy clenched over and over again, the slight orgasm driving her to the point of being unable to focus. To think clearly. “Oh, I…”

  “Well, I can tell what you crave and what you need, sweet Reese. We’ll take care of that tonight.” Bringing her hand to his mouth, he sucked on her index finger, drawing her long digit in and out of his mouth.

  My. God. My. God! Hearing her phone, she groaned, trying her best to collect herself. This was insane. “Wait. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to let you out of my sight.”

  Her pussy was throbbing and if she clamped hard enough, she knew she could come right here. On command. She narrowed her eyes seeing the number. This couldn’t be correct. Not this early. A cold shiver trickled down her spine. “Reese Winton.”

  “Miss Winton. You’re wanted back in court.”

  “Now? It’s almost five.” She glanced at her watch, every concept of horror slithering into her mind.

  “Yes, ma’am, I understand but the jury’s back. They’ve reached a decision.”

  “Oh, dear God,” she whispered.

  Bam!

  “What the hell?” Sawyer turned down the radio and opened his window, listening for the cause of the loud bang. The early evening was thick with humidity, the massive trees lining both sides of the street creating vicious shadows, a hindrance as twilight rolled in. He could swear he heard a hissing sound. He tapped on the accelerator, rounding the bend.

  Blink. Blink. Blink.

  He craned his neck and noticed a flashing glow in the horizon. The traffic light just ahead was considered necessary for safety concerns, which should mean they were never blinking. This area was also desolate, the two-lane road stretching a few miles just outside the city limit, the road creeping up the mountainside. Rounding a corner, he was forced to slam on his brakes, blinking in order to focus on what he was seeing. “Fuck!”

  Grabbing his phone, he dialed 9-1-1 as he struggled to exit the Bronco then raced toward the scene of the accident. “I’d like to report an accident at the corner of Mountain and Viewside roads. One passenger vehicle with two occupants and one fire engine.” He shuddered as he went into emergency mode, his training kicking in. “Yes, I said a fire engine from company 12. Please be advised that we will need multiple ambulances as well as fire support.”

  He walked around the car first. The entire front had been crushed in, the force pinning both the driver as well as a passenger against the mangled metal, the twisted frame. From what he could tell, there was a sharp implement sticking out of the passenger victim’s chest. The man was bleeding profusely, no doubt going into shock. “Yes, there is some steam coming from under the hood of the passenger vehicle. Please send help ASAP.” Annoyed at the litany of questions, he ended the call, shoving the phone into his back pocket and feeling for the pulse of the driver.

  The older woman appeared unconscious but was alive.

  “Help me!” The passenger moaned, the words half garbled, his eyelids fluttering.

  There was no way he could extract the man, who was pinned to the point the jaws of life would need to be used. “Stay calm and try not to move. Okay? Help is on its way, but you must stay calm. I’ll be right back.”

  “No!” The scream was strangled, full of terror.

  “I promise. I’m not leaving. Just checking on the others. Okay?”

  The man’s mouth pursed, a trickle of blood sliding down one corner.

  Cringing, he was no doctor, but all indications were the man could die within minutes. “I’m right here.” He studied the perimeter and could tell the car had run the red light, smacking straight into the fire engine then the engine had skidded, slamming into the light pole. There was glass and metal everywhere, tempered windows blown out from the force of the impact. He carefully made his way toward the engine, which had jackknifed.

  Sawyer climbed up on the side, using the various steel rungs and peered into the driver’s side. The driver was conscious, blinking as blood trickled into his eyes. The gash on the man’s forehead was deep, but from what he could tell, not life threatening. He knew a couple of men from the unit but was unable to recognize anyone at this point. “Hey, I’m going to get you out of here.”

  Moving his head, the driver looked up, blinking several times. “What the hell happened?” His voice was hoarse.

  “Driver ran a red light, at least from what I can tell. How many men on board?”

  “Six, including me.”

  “What’s your name?” Sawyer managed to unlatch and pull open the heavy door, straining as he pushed his back against it. Able to see further inside, he noticed at least three of the men already moving, working their way at getting out of the tight confines.

  “Lieutenant Tony Myers. And you’re… You’re a jumper.” Tony struggled to unfasten his seatbelt, but he gave Sawyer a weak smile. “Seen you around.”

  “Yeah, Sawyer Lincoln with the Jackals. Can you get yourself out? The folks in the car are in rough shape.”

  “Yeah,” the lieutenant shifted. “I think I can. Men. Call out.” Tony coughed before he was able to yell, “Call out.”

  “Frisco, here.” The answer was followed by a series of ragged coughs.

  “Wallace, here.”

  “Jasper, still here. Jesus!”

  Tony wiped his eyes. “And you’re going to be for a long time,” he attempted to joke.

  “Reynolds. Still kicking. That was some driving, Lieutenant.”

  Laughing, Tony shifted, pulling his weight until he was out of the cab, taking Sawyer’s held out hand. “Thanks for stopping.”

  “Sure thing. You got one more,” Sawyer said as he climbed down the rungs. Several sets of sirens could be heard coming from both directions.

  “Stanton. Call out. You okay?” Tony remained with his hand on the door.

  “Stanton?” The name was one Sawyer recognized from his past but would be shocked if it was the same guy. “Mike Stanton?”

  “Yeah. That’s the one. Stanton. Where the hell are you?” Tony yanked off his helmet, tossing it inside.

  “Not here, Lieutenant,” one of the men called. “One of the windows is smashed. He wasn’t belted in.”

  “Shit!” Tony huffed as he scrambled down, swaying once he hit the pavement.

  “You’re in no condition to do anything so stay put. I’ll look for him. Get your men out,” Sawyer instructed as he took off around the backside of the engine. There was no way this was his old buddy, the one who’d been a born and bred smokejumper. “Mike!” He scanned the area, listening for any signs of life. The sounds of hissing steam as well as the various sirens drowned out any hope of hearing a damn thing.

  Why the hell wasn’t Mike wearing a seatbelt, which was protocol. He turned in a circle then walked around the other side. Part of the guardrail was crushed, leaving a huge opening. The area was carved out of a mountain, allowing for treacherous slopes. If Mike had been tossed over the rail, there was a chance he’d been pitched all the way down. The ravine below was at least a half mile down.

  Moving into action, he raced back to his vehicle, finding his high-powered flashlight and heading in the direction of the rail. Carefully stepping over, he pointed the light beam across the area then down. “Shit. I need help over here!” Whether or not the wounded fireman had heard, he couldn’t take the time to find out. Mike’s body was lying precariously on a small ledge and from what he could see, a portion of his body was trapped by a tree limb, one that appeared to have a crack. If the limb broke off, there was a good chance Mike would tumble down further, even all the way to the rocky bottom.

  There was no time to waste. Sawyer trotted back to the downed engine, finding the Lieutenant. “Tony. I need a rope and any of your men have enough strength to help me?”

 
“What do you have?” Tony continued to hold his head, exhaling as he glanced over at the car.

  “Mike. He’s down off the side of the road and I have to secure him with a rope. There’s no time to wait for the other firemen.” Three of the downed firefighters were already working on getting the driver out of the car.

  Tony opened his eyes wide and nodded. “Frisco. I need you. Now!” He walked toward the engine, hoisting himself up onto the side and cursing as he tried to open one of the hatch doors. Managing after a few seconds, he grabbed a tightly wound rope, tossing it to Sawyer.

  Hobbling around from the other side of the engine, another firefighter narrowed his eyes as he flanked the Lieutenant’s side. “You found Mike.”

  “Yeah. Go with Sawyer to help. We have to save our man.” Tony gave Sawyer a respectful nod.

  “He’s a civilian!” Frisco insisted, giving Sawyer a hard glare.

  “No, he’s a decorated smokejumper who could likely whip your sorry ass any day,” Tony rebutted, hissing under his breath.

  Sawyer could see a flash of anger in the young man’s eyes, but to his credit, he stood at attention, as if being reprimanded.

  “Anything to help the jumpers,” Frisco answered through clenched teeth.

  Tony shook his head, wincing. “Be careful. Damn shit is slippery from last night’s storm. Jesus Christ this shit.”

  “I know. Careful of the passenger. I think he was impaled and if so, the pressure is the only thing keeping that man alive right now. He’s lost a hell of a lot of blood.” Sawyer stole a quick glance at the firefighters surrounding the car as a series of flashing lights headed in their direction.

  “Heard about you from Mike. Damn good jumper. Might want to consider being an EMT in your spare time.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “Careful men,” he called to the others.

  “Come on.” Sawyer motioned to Frisco then trotted back toward the edge. He clipped the light onto his belt. The natural light was dying off, leaving far too many shadows. “Tie it off. I’m going to try and see if Mike is conscious.”