Taking Fire

by Radclyffe

  “Taking the night watch.”

  “Really? And who are you watching out for?”

  “You.”

  Rachel’s insides were already smoldering. Now heat like a living thing poured through her, desire so potent she ached. “Max. I—”

  “I told you we should talk.” Max took her hand. “I got that wrong, and you were right to go. I should talk.”

  “You want to talk.” Rachel repeated the words like a ventriloquist’s dummy and with about as much comprehension. Her brain had checked out and her libido was driving the train. “God, Max. It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Will you come back to my hotel with me?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.” Max tugged her hand. Started to walk. “I’ll buy you a drink. Give me half an hour.”

  Rachel would’ve said yes to anything at this point, and given her a hell of a lot more than half an hour. The walk would give her a chance to collect herself, and she’d be safe in the hotel lounge. She wouldn’t be able to give in to the clawing need that scored her heart. “All right.”

  Max’s smile blazed as she offered her arm. Rachel linked her arm through Max’s and Max pulled her to her side. Their bodies fell into step, the connection instantaneous. The discordance that had plagued Rachel for days—an uneasy niggling in the back of her mind that was something was very wrong—fell away like a discarded cloak. Being with Max, touching Max, was right. With Max, she was herself, all of herself, in a way she’d never been with anyone else. She sighed.

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again.”

  “I’m an idiot,” Max said. “I missed you. More than that—I couldn’t stop thinking about you. No matter what I was doing, you were always on my mind.” Max stopped—took both Rachel’s hands. A streetlight lit her face, stark and strong and beautiful. “I shouldn’t have waited until now to tell you that. To tell you a lot of things. When you walked away I felt like part of me was gone.”

  Rachel gasped and pressed her fingers to Max’s mouth. Her head was whirling, hope and desire and wanting making her weak. “Don’t. Not out here. Not until we’re alone.”

  “I can’t let you go again,” Max said vehemently. She stopped in front of the hotel. “Would you…will you come up to my room? Just to talk?”

  “To talk,” Rachel said, echoing again. She nodded, a heavy thrumming in her belly warning her she was in trouble.

  Max hurried them through a lobby Rachel scarcely noticed, up an elevator, and into a room with a king-sized bed and the usual hotel furnishings, including a small sofa and coffee table in one corner. She took off her coat and sat while Max rummaged in the wet bar. Max’s shirt stretched across her back and she remembered clinging to Max’s back while she’d come. She bit her lip and tried to focus.

  Max handed her a plastic cup of white wine and sat down so close their knees touched. “The vintage is good. Sorry about the glass.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Max sipped an inch of dark whiskey without ice and set her cup aside.

  “I wanted to call,” Max said in her right-to-the-point way. “But mostly I was running scared.”

  Rachel smiled wryly and set her drink down too. “Yes, I’m sorry, I did dump a lot on you, didn’t I.”

  “No, it wasn’t you. It was me. Is me.” Max clasped Rachel’s hand in both of hers. “You’re an amazing woman—determined, dedicated, willing to do whatever you need to do. You’re brave, Rachel, the way it counts. You deserve someone a lot stronger than me, someone who isn’t carrying around a lot of broken places.”

  “I’ve never met anyone as strong or as brave or as giving.” Rachel couldn’t not touch her, not when she suffered so much. She stroked Max’s face. “I saw what it was like out there, just a little bit of what you’ve seen, but enough to understand there’s no reason, no logic, to who lives and who dies. Only skill and determination and maybe luck. And you, Max. You made a difference.”

  “I’m not strong,” Max said. “What you saw back at the camp was me trying to make up for never being quite brave or strong enough. Every one I didn’t save and every one I knew I’d fail the next day or the next haunted me. Still haunts me.” She nodded to the drinks on the table. “I spent a lot of time trying to drink away the nightmares. I’m not drinking much these days, but I’ll probably always have the nightmares. And the dark places inside me.”

  “You think I don’t understand?” Rachel’s heart won the war with caution. She wrapped her arms around Max’s shoulders and pulled her close. She would have pulled her inside if she could have, wanting to comfort her so badly, to erase the pain that always rode so close to the surface of Max’s eyes. “I have dreams, nightmares, even when I’m awake. I know how easy it is to shut those places away. To close them down. And I know you haven’t.”

  “When I’m with you is the only time I feel alive.”

  “I know. I feel the same.”

  Max hadn’t known she’d wanted comfort, was certain she hadn’t earned it, but Rachel’s heart beat full and strong beneath hers, her body and her words stroking her, soothing the broken, bleeding places. She clasped Rachel’s hand tightly and kissed her. “I love you. I’m not worthy, but I swear I love you with all my heart and all my soul and always will.”

  Rachel cupped the back of her neck, deepened the kiss until Max’s head went light and all the blood in her body pooled in the pit of her stomach. Rachel’s lips slid over hers like silk between her fingers. “I’m in love with you, Max. You’re the only one I want. You’re all I want.”

  Max groaned. “I’m starving for you.”

  “Show me.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  “I wanted to undress you the second I saw you tonight,” Max said, drawing Rachel to her feet.

  Rachel looped her arms around Max’s neck and pressed close. “I’ve wanted your hands on me since that first afternoon in the jungle.”

  Max tangled her fingers in Rachel’s hair and kissed her, one hand stroking down the silken curves of her outer breast and over her abdomen and hip. She slid her hand beneath the hem of the emerald dress and found silk stockings topped with lace. Silken flesh above.

  “You feel like no one I’ve ever touched,” Max breathed.

  “I never expected to feel this way about anyone,” Rachel said, opening the buttons on Max’s shirt. She kissed her throat, the hollow between her collarbones, the shallow valley between her breasts. “I’ve never wanted to give myself so much, take so much.” She cupped Max’s breasts beneath the tight tank she’d worn beneath the cotton shirt. “I’ve never wanted anyone to touch me the way you touch me. Everywhere, inside me, I feel you everywhere.”

  Max played her fingers lightly up Rachel’s thigh from silk to lace to the soft skin above the stockings and higher, to the satin that covered Rachel between her thighs. Rachel surged into her hand as she pressed gently.

  Rachel whispered against Max’s throat, “God, Max, you keep teasing me like that, you’ll make me come.”

  “That’s all right. I want to touch you forever.”

  “You can, I’m yours.”

  “Mine,” Max whispered, drawing her finger along the satin-covered cleft in long, firm strokes.

  Rachel gripped Max’s shoulders as her thighs grew weak. She circled her hips, her body guiding Max’s touch. Her breath caught as the pleasure brimmed and threatened to spill. “Close, so close.”

  Max kissed her and stroked faster, forgetting to breathe, forgetting everything except Rachel’s soft whimpers and the demanding thrust of her hips. To pleasure her was an honor she didn’t deserve and one she craved every waking moment. “I love you.”

  Rachel jerked in her arms and cried out against her throat. Max held her closer as her orgasm overtook her.

  “I love you,” Max said again, and nothing had ever been so true.

  “I love the way you make me feel. I love the way you know me.” Rachel clung to Max until some of her str
ength returned. “Will you take me to bed so I can touch what’s mine?”

  “Yours,” Max murmured. “Yes, I am.”

  Max turned Rachel in her arms and lowered the short zipper in the back of her dress. She smoothed the straps down over Rachel’s shoulders and the dress pooled at Rachel’s feet, the silky green on the pale beige carpet an oasis in the desert. Holding Rachel against her, she kissed Rachel’s shoulder and stroked her breasts and down her bare belly. Rachel’s head fell back against Max’s shoulder.

  “This isn’t bed,” Rachel said with a sigh.

  “I’m getting there,” Max said. “But undressing you might be one of the world’s greatest wonders.”

  Rachel laughed shakily. “Max. You make me feel so special.”

  Max kissed her shoulder again and slid her fingers beneath the satin panties. Rachel was wet and swollen, ready for her again. Rachel gripped her forearm, fingers tightening as Max circled the base of her clitoris.

  “Max,” Rachel breathed, a warning and a plea.

  “I know.” Max’s legs were as wooden as if she’d just marched thirty miles. She could barely breathe, she was so focused on the rising tension in Rachel’s body.

  “I’m going to come again.” Rachel buried her face against Max’s neck. “God, Max. Right now.”

  “I love you,” Max whispered again and again as Rachel tensed and shuddered. The words, the reality, freed her from a lifetime of isolation. Rachel was the sunrise, the promise of a new day. Rachel was life.

  “I want you on top of me,” Rachel gasped. “I want you inside me.”

  Max swung Rachel into her arms, carried her the short distance to the bed, and laid her down. She stripped and settled atop Rachel, supporting herself on one arm and straddling Rachel’s thigh. She slid her hand between Rachel’s legs and cupped her. “Here?”

  “Yes. Now.” Rachel wrapped both arms around Max’s back, stroking the planes she loved to look at, and lifted her hips to take Max in deeper until the ache that hadn’t left since she’d walked out of Max’s apartment faded away. Max looked down at her, her expression fierce, intense, possessive. Rachel pulled her near to kiss her and kept kissing her as Max carried her, stroke by stroke, to the crest of another orgasm. When she was close, so close she was only seconds away, she pushed Max over and straddled her.

  “Watch me,” Rachel whispered, her knees on either side of Max’s hips. She reached behind her to cup Max as Max filled her.

  “So beautiful,” Max groaned, her dark gaze fixed on Rachel’s face.

  Rachel squeezed, and the tendons in Max’s neck stood out. Gliding up and back, she rode Max’s fingers to the peak.

  “I’m coming,” Rachel whispered, falling at last into the clear dark depths of Max’s eyes. Max groaned and bucked beneath her, carried over the edge with her. Boneless with release, Rachel slumped forward, catching herself on Max’s shoulders, her hair falling down to curtain Max’s face. “Never. Never like this.”

  “I know.” Max cradled her breasts, softly thumbing her nipples. The sensation was erotic and soothing, like Max, always exciting and safe.

  “I love you.” Rachel gathered her strength and slid down the bed between Max’s thighs. She stroked the iron-hard length of her legs and kissed her still-hard clitoris.

  “Jesus,” Max groaned.

  Smiling to herself, Rachel took her time, sucking gently for a few seconds until Max’s body tensed and she knew she was close, then easing away. She indulged herself, taking what was hers, one slow stroke at a time.

  “Rachel, please.” Max cupped the back of Rachel’s head and drew her face closer. “I need you.”

  Rachel’s breath stilled and every sense filled with Max. Only Max. She drew her in and pushed her over, holding her while she came in her mouth.

  *

  Max ran strands of Rachel’s hair through her fingers as she watched the ceiling grow light with the coming dawn. Rachel lay with her head on Max’s shoulder, her arm draped around her middle, one thigh over hers. She fit perfectly, as if she’d always been there. If she thought too much about how good Rachel felt in her arms, she’d begin to worry about jinxing what had to be a mistake. She ran a hand down her chest, an automatic gesture looking for her dog tags, her talisman, a reminder of who she was and that she was still alive. The tags were gone. Maybe her luck was too.

  “I hear you thinking,” Rachel murmured, kissing Max’s breast.

  “Not so much,” Max said. Rachel didn’t need to know about her fears. “Just enjoying you.”

  “Well, you can enjoy all you want.” Rachel snuggled a little closer and kissed Max’s throat. “Especially when it makes me feel so good. But you’re not allowed to worry. Not when everything is fine.”

  Max laughed and some of the darkness receded. Rachel always managed to do that. “How did you know?”

  “I can feel you worrying. You’re not concerned about later today, are you?” Rachel said.

  Max frowned while her brain tried to engage again with the rest of the world. She didn’t want to let the outside in. All she wanted was Rachel. This room, this bed, this moment with no past to haunt her, no failures and fears to torment her. “The press conference? No, but I’d be just as happy to skip it. I guess there’s no way we can just stay here?”

  “I think Shelley Carpenter would find us,” Rachel said.

  “I don’t want to put her in a bind. And I think you’re right. She’s determined.”

  Rachel caressed Max’s chest. “I’d be happy staying here except for her too. But, Max—this moment, it doesn’t have to end. I don’t care what it takes.”

  Max lifted Rachel’s hand and kissed her fingers. Took a breath. “I don’t fit in your world.”

  “Thank God.” Rachel raised up. Kissed Max slowly and thoroughly. “I never wanted that world or someone who fit in it.”

  “Your parents won’t approve.”

  “Max, you might not have noticed, but you are a decorated war hero. Not that it matters to me what my parents think, but they’ll have no objections.”

  “I’m not particularly sociable.”

  “You seemed to be doing quite well last night. I think Shelley Carpenter is half in love with you.”

  “That’s just because I thanked her.”

  “You noticed her, Max. You saw her. Like you see me. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you. That’s so much more important than empty words.”

  “My nightmares probably won’t go away.”

  “Mine might not either. But I’ll sleep better in your arms. You have a way of chasing off the monsters.”

  “You’re pretty good at that yourself.” Max pulled Rachel on top of her and kissed her. “I love you. I need you.”

  Rachel caressed Max’s jaw. “You won’t have to go back there, will you? I’m not sure I’m brave enough to stand you being in combat again.”

  “Probably not. The troops are being retracted. But medics with field experience are the first called up if troops are sent to battle. So I still might be, one day.”

  “Okay,” Rachel said, her expression firming. “If it happens, we’ll deal. I know who you are, Max. And I’m so proud of you. We’ll deal.”

  “My schedule is hard on…family.” Max savored the word, almost afraid to use it.

  Rachel’s smile was radiant. “My schedule is too. I’ll have to be away—out of the country sometimes, for a while.”

  Max cupped her chin, kissed her. “I’m proud of you too. All I care about is that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

  “Max, I love you. I’m yours.”

  “And I’m yours,” Max murmured.

  Rachel kissed her. “Then there’s nothing else we can’t handle.”

  About the Author

  Radclyffe has written over forty-five romance and romantic intrigue novels, dozens of short stories, and, writing as L.L. Raand, has authored a paranormal romance series, The Midnight Hunters.

  She is an eight-time Lambda Literary Award f
inalist in romance, mystery, and erotica—winning in both romance (Distant Shores, Silent Thunder) and erotica (Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments edited with Stacia Seaman and In Deep Waters 2: Cruising the Strip written with Karin Kallmaker). A member of the Saints and Sinners Literary Hall of Fame, she is also an RWA/FF&P Prism Award winner for Secrets in the Stone, an RWA FTHRW Lories and RWA HODRW winner for Firestorm, an RWA Bean Pot winner for Crossroads, and an RWA Laurel Wreath winner for Blood Hunt. In 2014 she was awarded the Dr. James Duggins Outstanding Mid-Career Novelist Award by the Lambda Literary Foundation.

  She is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBTQ publishing companies.

  Find her at facebook.com/Radclyffe.BSB, follow her on Twitter @RadclyffeBSB, and visit her website at Radfic.com.

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Kiss The Girl by Melissa Brayden. Sleeping with the enemy has never been so complicated. Brooklyn Campbell and Jessica Lennox face off in love and advertising in fast-paced New York City. (978-1-62639-071-3)

  Taking Fire: A First Responders Novel by Radclyffe. Hunted by extremists and under siege by nature’s most virulent weapons, Navy medic Max de Milles and Red Cross worker Rachel Winslow join forces to survive and discover something far more lasting. (978-1-62639-072-0)

  First Tango in Paris by Shelley Thrasher. When French law student Eva Laroche meets American call girl Brigitte Green in 1970s Paris, they have no idea how their pasts and futures will intersect. (978-1-62639-073-7)

  The War Within by Yolanda Wallace. Army nurse Meredith Moser went to Vietnam in 1967 looking to help those in need; she didn’t expect to meet the love of her life along the way. (978-1-62639-074-4)