by Anne Marsh
“I won’t start anything I can’t finish,” she promised, tracing her lips over his throat and down his chest. He tasted like soap and man, slick and warm. He didn’t move, letting her touch him however she wanted. Swirl her tongue over his stiff nipples and lower.
“Sarah Jo—” Sweet warning filled his voice.
“Uh-uh.” She ran her tongue around his nipple and he groaned. She definitely liked this, touching him. Having him at her mercy. She nipped lightly when his hands tangled in her hair, tugging her up. “This is my turn.” She peeked up at him through her lashes. “You’re just going to have to stand there and take it, big guy.”
His laughter rumbled over her head as his hands stopped their tugging. “Now there’s a hard thing.”
The muscles of his abdomen demanded her attention. The shiny scar from a burn was impossible to miss, a visible reminder of the risks he took each day of the summer. She’d kiss what she could better.
“You didn’t win that fight.” She pressed her mouth against the scar. She kissed him there. Kissed over his ribs and down his stomach. Kissed lower, brushing her cheek against the ripe tip of his erection.
“Can’t win them all.” The words came out hoarse and needy. “Sarah Jo—”
“Shhhh,” she said, rubbing her cheek against him. “I’m not done here.” His erection definitely deserved all her attention. She ran a finger up the thick length, tracing the vein until she reached the bead of pre-cum at the very tip. He sure was ready for her. Leaning in, she closed her mouth over him.
His head hit the side of the shower. With a rough groan, he threaded his fingers through her hair. His heat surrounded her, his arms and legs closing in, covering her with his big body. She should have felt overwhelmed, but she didn’t. She liked having all of him as close as possible.
So she’d have all of him. Sliding her mouth down his hard length, she wrapped her hands around the inches she couldn’t reach with her mouth. Cupping his balls, she slid her mouth up and down every hard inch. There was a lot of Dade.
She ran her tongue up the bulging vein, pressing against the spot beneath the head. That move had his hands tensing.
Definitely hers right now.
“Sarah Jo,” he bit out. “Tell me you’re stopping, because I’m not.”
She had no intention of stopping.
Just sucked hard on that straining tip. She was in control now, and she liked that. Taking him like this had her wet and aching for him, but this was his turn. Her chance to make him lose control. Sinking down, then drawing back up his hard length. Over and over. His powerful thighs braced, like he was holding on to his control by a thread.
And then he totally lost control.
She kissed him and he groaned and shuddered, pushing through the tight ring of her lips and then popping back out again. She didn’t want this to end, wanted more of this slippery slide. Wanted to hide here in their cocoon of wet and steam for hours.
So she kissed and stroked, making him feel good. Her big, tough alpha wasn’t afraid to let her take control and give him that pleasure. She needed to do this, and damned if he wasn’t more than willing.
He fucked her mouth. Dade didn’t know what else to call it, but the sight of his dick sliding in and out of that pretty pink mouth stirred him up and then some. Sarah Jo on her knees, wrapped around him like he was her favorite flavor of sweet, was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen. Her water-slicked hair made her look like the naughtiest of mermaids, naked and needing.
She was killing him.
“Christ, Sarah Jo. You want to pull back? I’m not going to last.”
Her eyes twinkled up at him and damn, she didn’t let go. Not one inch.
Instead, she sucked him back in deep, her tongue stroking along his hard length, and he came, hard and fast. Emptying himself into her mouth because there was nothing but pleasure squeezing and consuming him. White hot and out of this world. Nothing and no one but Sarah Jo, right there on her knees, giving him something he hadn’t known he needed.
“Wow,” he got out, wanting to give her something poetic. Pretty words that would tell her how much he’d enjoyed what she’d just done. But he had nothing. She didn’t seem to mind, though. She reached around him and flipped off the water. Good thing, because he’d probably used up all the hot. The next Rogue in the shower would be cursing him.
Or cheering.
Hell, he didn’t know.
With a small smile, she pulled his towel off the rod and handed it to him.
“You want to go make that RV of yours rock?”
“Hell, yeah.” He wrapped the towel around her, pulling her up into his arms. “You’ve got a turn coming to you, honey.”
Chapter Seven
After too many hours on her feet, Sarah Jo was glad to curl up on her bunk and hold a book instead of a spatula. The way she saw it, she had ten good hours until the breakfast shift started. Right now, however, the story wasn’t working its usual magic. Instead of losing herself in the world of Highlanders, she was contemplating making a field trip across camp and finding Dade’s RV.
Again.
For the third time that week.
They’d made a mad dash to his RV after she’d heated him up in the shower. He’d shoved open the door and all but scooped her up in his arms, his hands on her ass urging her over to his big bunk. Then, he’d proceeded to reclaim his towel, which she’d wrapped around herself, kissing every inch he uncovered. She was pretty sure she’d hollered loud enough to wake up half the camp, but no one had said anything this morning. Even Rosalie hadn’t done much more than smile and ask her if she’d slept well. Somewhere other than the cooks’ cabin.
Problem was, cozying up in her bunk alone was, well, alone. She wanted more Dade. Wanted to spend the whole night wrapped up in his arms while they loved or slept. Or talked. He hadn’t said too much, but she’d sensed he wanted to.
She turned the page. No, the Highlander in her book wasn’t doing it for her tonight. She wanted to see Dade. So why shouldn’t she?
She was still thinking that through when the lights in the cabin flickered and went out. Damn it. Closing the book, she tossed it gently on the bunk. Guess that made her choice perfectly clear, didn’t it?
Sliding off the bed, she felt her way over to the window. Power outages weren’t uncommon in any field camp. When she looked out, though, the rest of camp still shone with light. She jiggled the bedside lamp, but no dice. Maybe the cabin had blown a fuse.
The door opened behind her, and she turned with a smile. Someone had sent a rescue party. Or an electrician. Either one worked for her. Right now, standing in the dark, she wasn’t picky. There was just enough light from the window to light up the shadow of a man stepping inside.
“Fuse box?” she asked.
“That’s one way of looking at it.” Thad’s voice was a cold dose of reality. He shut the door carefully behind him, and she heard the snick of the lock as he flipped the dead bolt.
“You got a warrant this time?” Her voice didn’t shake. That made her proud, because she had a feeling her knees were shaking visibly. Being locked in a cabin with Thad was a recipe for disaster. She didn’t need the light to know there was a whole lot of ugly written on his face. He’d warned her, and she’d refused to listen.
For a long moment, he didn’t move, spinning out the sickening anticipation.
“That’s a real nice getup.” He gestured toward her shorts and tank top with his service weapon. She rubbed suddenly clammy palms on her shorts. He was between her and the door. The window wasn’t much of a possibility, either, too small for a quick exit. She’d never kick out the screen before he was on her. He stared and she panicked, the soft whup-whup of the slowing overhead fan filling in the silence.
Plan. She needed a plan.
Her mind came up blank, though, and all she could do was stall for more time. “What do you want, Thad?”
He flashed her his crooked smile. She’d thought that smile charming once up
on a time, which just went to show that appearances could be deceiving. His answer did nothing to reassure her.
“We’ve gone over this before. You need to come back with me.”
“So you do have a warrant?” She held her breath.
His eyes darkened. “Not yet,” he spat. “But I will. And it doesn’t matter anyhow. You’re going back with me, Sarah Jo.”
His thumb, stroking the barrel of his gun, said that he had a point. Warrant or no warrant, he held all the cards right now. Her options were decidedly limited.
The window was open, only a screen separating her from the outside. Problem was, camp was still noisy, humming with after-dinner conversation as the guys worked their way through dessert and seconds, followed by a generous serving of story swapping. It was doubtful anyone would hear a muffled scream from a remote cabin.
She wondered how he’d gotten in without someone stopping him. He hadn’t made any friends the other day, and a uniform usually attracted attention. But however he’d done it, somehow he’d slipped inside unnoticed. The other cooks wouldn’t be wrapping up for another hour. She was on her own here.
“You’ve got to pay the piper, Sarah Jo,” he said conversationally. Like they were discussing a five-dollar bet or a dare and not her life. Because she had the sinking sensation that he was all in on this one. He wanted her to pay, and he wasn’t going to shortchange his revenge.
She fell back on the truth. “I did nothing wrong.”
“You shouldn’t have run and tattled,” he accused. “You said things.”
“Nobody believed me.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Eventually, someone might. You should have been on my side.”
“I don’t have to go with you,” she said.
He shook his head, unhooking a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. “You’re not the one in charge here. I am. Turn around and face the wall. Put your hands behind you.”
She’d let Dade do things to her last night. Sensual, playful, demanding things. He’d turned her inside out and reduced her to a quivering, compliant puddle. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she knew this was wrong. She couldn’t give up control. Not to Thad. Not like this. Before he could move in, she flipped him off.
“Always doing things the hard way. You want me to shoot you?”
She shook her head and backed up, but he was already coming for her, shoving the gun back into his holster.
He lunged for her, fists shooting toward her face, and she danced backward, putting what space she could between them. It wasn’t enough, and there was nowhere left to go inside the too-small cabin. When she feinted, diving left, his fist clipped her jaw and sent her crashing to the floor. Pain blazed across her cheek, but there was no time to stop. She scrambled up.
His leg hooked around hers and yanked, sending her back to the floor.
“Gotcha.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he pinned her thrashing legs with his weight. No. If she could just get him off, she could make the door … She bucked, trying to knock him off balance, but he held her where he wanted her, jamming a knee into the small of her back. He pulled back hard on her arms, and her back bowed helplessly.
“Stop fighting,” he demanded, “and you’ll be happier.”
“Never.” Sure, he was big and trained, but she was desperate. That had to count for something, right? The harsh pant of their breathing filled the too-small room. The normal sounds of camp life filtered through the wall, so close and yet so far.
“There’s a good girl.” Thad’s satisfied voice filled her ear. God. His erection pressed into her lower back. She bucked again, but he was bigger and stronger. Her shoulders burned as he jerked her arms toward him.
The zip-ties tightened around her wrists.
There was a cop car tucked in the darkest corner of the makeshift parking lot. Fuck. Dade didn’t need spidey senses to know that something wasn’t right. Sarah Jo seemed to attract trouble like nobody’s business, and Thad Hill had made his intentions perfectly clear.
The bastard wasn’t done with Sarah Jo.
He turned to the nearest cook. “Where’s Sarah Jo?”
“You don’t have a hello? You just lead off with the questions?”
He didn’t want to play games. Making sure Sarah Jo was safe and not off and running in the dark was number one, however, so he leaned in and made eye contact. “Hi. Where the fuck is Sarah Jo? No,” he said, when the cook opened her mouth to protest. “There’s a cop car parked two hundred yards south of us, and I’m not seeing Sarah Jo. Last time she saw a car like that, she drove out of here like her ass was on fire.”
Rosalie opened her mouth. Closed it. Clearly, she had some experience with Sarah Jo herself.
“She’s got the night off.” Rosalie nodded toward the cabins tucked away in the woods. “Last I heard, she had a date with a book and her bed. You changing that?”
“I’d like to,” he said grimly. “But first I need to make sure she’s okay.”
He didn’t wait for Rosalie’s answer. That sense of urgency was back. He needed to find Sarah Jo, and then, once he had her back in his arms, safe and sound, he’d see if she was in the mood to share a few more details with him. A quiet night holding her would be good. Every night didn’t have to be about sex, as hot as the sex with Sarah Jo was. Hell, they’d had the hot sex last night and then again early this morning. He’d do it all over again in a heartbeat, but he’d also enjoy just holding her. She could read in his arms, couldn’t she? Or tucked up against his side? Or even sitting across the damn cabin if that was what she wanted.
When he looked at her, he saw a woman who deserved white picket fences and happily-ever-after. Part of him wanted to give her the big-ass diamond he couldn’t afford and a five-bedroom McMansion in the suburbs. The other, wiser part of him knew he couldn’t do that. He had enough money to live, but no one ever got rich working fire crews, and he’d always been a simple man with simple tastes. Fire camp had been enough for him.
Until now.
Thad dragged her to her feet, pulling his gun from its holster and pressing the barrel against her side. “We’re walking out of here,” he said.
She wanted to say Like hell, but he’d won this round. The pain in her face faded some, leaving her clearheaded. He couldn’t keep her here in the cabin, not for what he intended. He wanted the glory of bringing her in. The pleasure of punishing her for defying him. None of that counted if he couldn’t get her out the door and into his car.
He gave her a small shake when she didn’t answer. “You got that?”
“Yeah.” She really, really did.
“Then shut up and start walking.” He wrapped an arm around her, dragging her up against his side. The feel of his body touching hers made her want to gag. She’d touched him before, although never the way she’d touched Dade, but this was wrong on so many levels. She hated the loss of control, hated it with a passion.
Ironically, though, they both wanted the same thing, even if she didn’t like his execution. Her only chance lay outside the cabin. Four hundred yards of opportunity on the way to his car, because she’d bet he’d parked in the usual spot. Anywhere else would draw attention.
Plus, would he really shoot her? Right there in the middle of camp where everyone could see? He wanted to force her to go with him, but that required a degree of cooperation from her, and he was definitely counting on her being scared. And on the handcuffs.
She flexed her wrists, and the plastic dug into the tender skin. No give. Whatever she did, she did it bound and trussed. Just great.
He flipped the lock, opened the door, and stepped out, digging the gun into her rib cage.
“Nice and easy,” he cautioned. He took her down the porch and along the edge of camp, sticking to the shadows and the trees. Well, she hadn’t expected him to march her through the middle of camp. All she had to do was watch for an opportunity.
She ignored his whispered taunts of just how sorry she was going to b
e. Yeah. She could imagine only too well what would happen once he had her in the patrol car and away from camp. None of it good. Concentrate.
Halfway to the parking lot, she lunged. Not her best idea, because he immediately had an arm around her throat. Pulling her head into his shoulder, he squeezed, and breathing became her primary focus. God. In and out, little shallow pants, until he let go.
“Don’t,” he snarled. “Be smart about this.”
There was no answer for that kind of demand, and it didn’t matter. The boom that shook the ground around them swallowed up anything she might have said. The camp lit up like the Fourth of July, flames shooting into the sky from the direction where they were headed.
“Flammables shed,” he observed. “They really should have had someone watching that.”
He was crazy. She knew that. This was a fire camp full of firefighters—not a military compound. She’d had the shed pointed out to her—it was a definite no smoking zone—where the hotshots locked up their fusees and flamethrowers. The shed housed a small arsenal of drip torches, gas cans, and a dozen different kinds of oil.
“That’s my insurance, right there,” he continued, pulling her along faster. Behind them, shouts and curses rang out as the hotshots sprang into action, everyone running toward the flames and away from Thad and her.
She needed help. God. She hated admitting it, but she couldn’t get out of this on her own. Just to prove the point, the parking lot loomed up before them. She could see the patrol car. Once he had her in that backseat, it was all over. He’d drive; she’d lose. She’d be nothing more than a footnote in the morning paper.
Scream for help.
Thoughts flashed through her head, lightning fast, but none of them stopped the patrol car from getting closer. She didn’t want to do it. She didn’t like doing it. Asking for help—and trusting someone else to provide it—wasn’t how she lived. Of course, changing up how she did things—since right now all that had managed to do was to get dragged forcibly across a fire camp—was probably prudent. Dade had done a whole lot of offering, and she’d done her best to push him away except when they were having sex. He could have given up on her, but he hadn’t. He’d stuck up for her when Thad had made his previous appearances. So it shouldn’t be so hard to ask for his help now, to be prudent.
