by Stone, Piper
Burn
Missoula Smokejumpers Book Two
Piper Stone
Blushing Books
©2017 by Blushing Books® and Piper Stone
All rights reserved .
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Piper Stone
Burn
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-490-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-513-0
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors .
Contents
What’s Inside
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
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S he no longer cared about the promise she made to herself. She craved this man like no other and she was going to have him. The taste of Landen was incredible, a sweet yet sultry reminder of her needs, an encroaching tug at her darker desires. Even the coppery taste of blood from his lip became a powerful aphrodisiac. As their tongues entwined, she moaned into the kiss. His hold becoming stronger, she fell into the heated moment of passion, wanting more, yearning to writhe underneath his massive body .
He took total control, wrapping his other arm around her waist, pulling her up and against the heat of his body. He sucked on her tongue as the kiss continued and rubbed his hand up and down her back .
With every touch, every caress of his fingers, she melted, unable to focus or think clearly .
Landen wrapped his hand around her hair and broke the kiss, pulling until her neck was exposed. Grunting, he dragged the tip of his tongue around her skin in lazy circles then bit down, drawing her tender flesh into his mouth .
The feel of his beard scratching against her face sent shivers down her spine. Her pussy wet, she wiggled in his hold and fumbled to unbutton his shirt. When she managed it, she slipped her hand inside, kneading his chest .
He continued licking, moving his tongue in circles as he moved down, pulling at the bodice of her shirt. Rearing back, the look on his face was one of frustration. He eased them both to their knees and yanked her tee shirt up and off, pitching the unwanted material. Gathering her into his arms, he kissed her again, his mouth feeding off of her, drinking her in as his hands roamed down and across her skin .
She tugged the shirt from his jeans and slid her hands underneath. His muscles were rock hard, forming ripples even across his back. She also felt something else. Scars. Mottled indentations covered over half of his back, their edges creating jagged digs, zigzagged lines .
Landen jerked back, his expression pinched .
“Don’t. Please don’t pull away.” Her words were half whispered, a moment shared that would either keep them apart or pull them together .
His eyes were cold at first, faraway, as if lost in the moment of damnation. He swallowed hard, his expression softening. “I’m ugly .”
The words were so touching, so very chilling that tears formed in her eyes. “There’s nothing about you that’s ugly, Landen. Nothing .”
He looked down, a slight smile curling on his lip. “Battle scars .”
She ran her finger just under his bruising eye then down to his lip, the touch gentle. “From a hero’s moment.” When he allowed her to draw him in, their heated bodies pressing against each other, she gently slipped her fingers under his shirt. This time, she used only the tips of her fingers, tracing the crevices with a loving touch .
Tipping her chin with a single finger, his eyes darted back and forth. “I’ve seen things. Done things .”
After a few seconds, she answered. “I know .”
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Chapter 1
Firestorm: Mass configuration of fire, a blowup
Reburn: A fire that is declared out, then later rekindles
Zulies: Missoula smokejumpers
New York City
Oh, Danny Boy, the pipes the pipes are calling …
Never forget …
T he words and the song echoed in the back of Landen Weaver’s mind. He stood on the street corner, studying the comings and goings of tourists and locals. His heart remained heavy, yet he knew he was doing the right thing. Leaving his hometown and everyone who’d been a part of his life was perhaps the most difficult decision he’d ever made, but his soul was ready for a final release. Missoula, Montana was certainly a far cry from New York City. A slight chuckle pushing past his lips, he shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the last remaining set of keys to the bar. The new owner would change the locks, but handing them over was ceremonial as well as needed. At least in his mind .
He stood quietly, drinking in the beeps coming from horns, the sounds of happy laughter and squeals erupting from children as they walked hand in hand with their parents. In his mind, joyful noise, comforting. His nerves were steady, and he was surprised, shocked even, given he’d either tossed or sold ninety percent of everything he owned. A fresh start. This was exactl
y what the doctor had ordered—sixteen years before. Grinning, he shook off the ugly memory and held his head high as he walked toward the entrance of O’ Grady’s Bar and Grill. Tomorrow morning, he’d bid a quiet farewell to his old life. At least he was leaving town without any fanfare .
The moment he walked inside, he was taken aback, a rush of images flooding his mind, events held at the bar he’d purchased two years after the 9/11 attacks. He’d been a part of the community in an entirely different fashion than being a firefighter, yet it’s time he would always cherish. He walked forward into the lively crowd of people, searching for the new owner. The outspoken retired Judge would fit right in .
From where he stood, he could just make out the wall of photographs, a collage of moments shared with colleagues and friends. Then his eyes settled on the picture of the twin towers. A ragged shiver slithered down the back of both legs, the same one that had almost incapacitated him years before .
Boom! Crack! Whoosh !
“Fire! Get out .”
“Help me! Please help me !”
“Ah!”
Landen’s hand trembled as he covered his mouth to keep the moan silent. The agony and sadness would never go away. He’d been just a rookie when 9/11 hit, unsure of his qualifications and unprepared to deal with the horrors. After only two years he quit, his mind no longer able to cope. Purchasing the bar had been his respite, his salvation. Still, he’d fallen into a bottle for comfort. He shook his head as he thought about the fire in his apartment, a careless event after a night of heavy drinking and endless cigarettes .
From that moment, he’d given up hard liquor as well as the cancer sticks. The work out regime had filtered in soon after, followed by a fresh desire to rejoin the fire department he considered family. The new training had been the spur for additional education. Now? His sights were set on smokejumping .
Pushing through, he kept his head low, preferring to just get this over with. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he needed to see the place he’d called home one last time. When he managed to get to within two feet of the bar, he grimaced as the crowd took several steps away .
“A-tten-tion!” the baritone voice boomed over the customers and six men sitting at the bar snapped to their feet at full attention .
Landen held his breath as each man turned around one by one. Seeing the faces of the men he’d served bravely with both during his rookie phase in 2001 and during the last several years gave him a series of shakes. He eyed his buddy, Michael O’ Brien, now Captain O’ Brien of Engine Company 15, and clenched his fists. Emotions he couldn’t handle at this point .
“Did you honestly think we’d allow you to get away that easily, Lieutenant Weaver?” Michael asked as he saluted, then walked toward Landen, his eyes twinkling .
“You son of a bitch,” Landen said under his breath .
“Get the man a beer!” another firefighter exclaimed as he raised his glass, nodding in reverence .
“Or a shot of tequila,” a second voice called out .
Michael held out his hand as he shook his head. “I knew you’d come back here one more time before you ran off to the wild West. Granted, I also had a hefty bet with the guys.” He half turned to face the group. “Every one of you owes me twenty bucks !”
A collective groan could be heard .
Within seconds, Landen was surrounded, men and women patting him on the back or shaking his hand. He was speechless, unsure of how to react. This, he hadn’t expected. He’d hadn’t actively managed the place in a few years .
“The boy is going to collapse. Bartender, another round of beers !”
He glanced at the approaching firefighter, now a decorated fire investigator and was sucked into the past, visions of the day Jimmy O’ Rearden was hurt in an explosion encapsulating every image in his mind. “You old fart .”
“Me? Hold on, now. You’re the guy trying to become a smokejumper. I’m just a lowly investigator.” Jimmy grabbed Landen’s hand then yanked him in for a bear hug. “Gonna miss you, buddy. Shit. We just got you back and you’re gone again .”
“I was always right here .”
“Yeah, I know,” Jimmy whispered, his voice breaking up .
Closing his eyes, Landen allowed himself to remember, albeit briefly, the horrors of the past then shoved them away, determined to end this portion of his life with dignity. The moment he saw his old Captain approaching from behind the group, he failed, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Fuck. You guys didn’t have to do this.” Captain Riley’s face was just as he remembered, but the man’s recent stroke had robbed him of his agility. Life as a firefighter had taken a toll on everyone .
“Like hell we didn’t,” Michael stated as he handed Landen a cold bottle of beer. “You’re a part of the team, my friend and we’re sure as shit going to miss you around here .”
“He’s right, son. We wouldn’t have let you get out of here without saying a proper goodbye. You mean a lot to all of us.” Captain Riley’s eyes misted as he closed the distance, shaking Landen’s hand before wrapping his arms around the firefighter’s tense body .
Landen looked around the room, recognizing so many faces, so many friends and those he considered family. Blinking back the tears, he squeezed his mentor. “Cap’n, I’m glad you’re here .”
When Captain Riley broke the hold, he gripped both of Landen’s arms, his face beaming with pride. “You better take care of yourself. I hear the Zulies are a rough crew .”
“They’re good guys, all of them.” Landen thought about what little he knew regarding the team he was going to risk his life with. At this point, his decision was out of his hands. His new team was expecting him in less than a week. They were counting on him. While excited at the opportunity, he remained apprehensive of the expectations, yet he’d worked long and hard over the last several years to change his physique as well as his attitude. Depression or second guessing wasn’t an option .
“Then maybe they’ll whip your ass into shape,” Captain Riley winked .
Feeling the heat rising on his face, Landen looked away. Yeah, maybe the stricter discipline as well as clean air would change his constant surly attitude .
“To Lieutenant Landen Weaver, one of the finest firefighters in all of New York.” Michael raised his bottle of beer and turned in a full circle, commanding every patron in the bar to lift their glass in celebration .
And they did .
Hearing the claps and cheers, Landen swallowed hard. How in the hell was he going to do this ?
He held a slight smile as a solid two dozen men came up to shake his hand. Then he downed the majority of his beer, calming what had become ragged nerves .
“When you leaving?” Jimmy asked as he flanked Landen’s side .
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He couldn’t help but smile as the kid, no, as the highly respected firefighter and lieutenant on the fast track to garnering everything he wanted out of his career stepped forward. Shaun Griffen had been a gangly kid during 9/11 and had no way of understanding the horrors or the significance of the damning day. The entire department, including his hero, firefighting father, had protected the sweet, young man. Given Shaun’s position with the fire department, he’d seen enough to learn about the terrifying nature of mankind. Shaun’s father would be as proud as he was .
If only he was still alive .
Landen gripped the bottle until his knuckles were white .
“I’m not going to repeat what everyone else is saying, but I do wish you’d stay.” Shaun’s voice was broken, his eyes darting back and forth .
“Yeah, I hear you. Somethin’ I gotta do .”
“I get it. You deserve to be happy, my friend. Working with you, alongside you, has meant so much to me .”
He could see through Shaun’s twinkling eyes. They were more than just brothers in the Engine Company, they were family. “Well, if you’re ever in Montana .”
Grinning, Shaun lifted his beer bottle. “I just might take
you up on that .”
Landen nodded and finished off his beer. He remained stoic as the crowd partied, his vision cloudy as his thoughts drifted to the past. He’d never forget, but the events from 9/11 had forever changed him. He walked closer to the bar, lifting the empty bottle. Another cold brew wasn’t going to hurt .
“Why in God’s name did you ever let that woman out of your sight? Whew, baby, she’s hot,” Michael muttered under his breath as he moved behind Landen .
“What?” Cocking his head, Landen felt the nervous tic on his mouth the instant he saw her face. He pressed his hand against his heart as the woman approached, her eyes locking onto his. “Samantha.” His girlfriend of over five years had been a huge part of his support system. She’d endured more bullshit than any woman should ever have to. In his mind, he’d never been good enough for her. Seeing her here today, her beautiful face and sexy expression was almost too much to bear .
“Fool. Should have stolen her from you years ago .”
“Then I would have kicked your ass .”
Laughing, Michael slapped him on the back then moved away .
Landen inched closer as she drew near and for a full minute they said nothing. Their breakup had been civilized, a quiet conversation over dinner one holiday night. She had big dreams and a need for a steady home. He wasn’t one for commitment and never would be. She also had grown weary of the kinky games, as she called them. She’d never understood his dominating side, even though she played the submissive role on-again, off-again. But the trust had been incredible .
