by Grey, Helen
I wondered how many firefighters were on the scene now and imagined it must be close to a thousand. I wasn’t sure how much acreage was involved at this point, but I knew that with every hour, probably dozens more acres of ground were being consumed, thanks to the winds that had kicked up.
The aircraft dropping their buckets of water and fire suppressing chemicals did their best to hold the fire at bay. Along with the hundreds of firefighters on the ground, it seemed as if we should have been able to make a dent in the fire so far, but from what I’d seen, we had yet to even reach ten percent containment.
How long would we be out here? How long would I be able to withstand the intense physical demands? The longest I had ever been on a fire line was about five days, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be going home anytime soon. And when I did? What then? Would Matt be going with me? Or had those three little words caused him to have second thoughts about returning to Santa Fe General?
With those and other worries on my mind, I stared out the window past Matt’s shoulder, wishing that I could just learn to keep my mouth shut. If I hadn’t said I love you to Matt, I had a feeling that everything between us would be just fine. None of this awkwardness. None of this hesitance to even look at each other. My heart felt heavy, and for the first time ever on the fire line, my thoughts were not consumed with putting out the flames of a fire, but putting out the flames of desire for Matt that ripped deep into my heart.
*
As it turned out, it was two days before Matt and I were to find ourselves temporarily alone. A new base camp had been set up, much in the same formation as the last one. We were situated on the northwest side of the mountain range now. From my current vantage point, I stood near the ridge of a mountain looking out over the range toward the east, appalled by the size of the fire.
To me, it looked like the entire world was aflame. In some places, smoke roiled so thickly you couldn’t see the flames. In others, it looked like the flames shot twenty to thirty feet high. Hot, orange flame that made my skin tingle just to think of the heat. Smoke and ash carried for miles, and I knew that the wind would carry that smoke and ash hundreds if not thousands of miles before it dissipated. The smell of wood smoke was firmly embedded in my nostrils, my lungs, and my hair, skin, and clothes. I was continually assailed with the stinging, eye-watering smoke that made my throat feel so raw.
Once again, I slept in a tent with about twenty other firefighters, and once again, Matt and I had to sleep on the ground in our sleeping bags. I didn’t care. I was too tired to care. As before, we chose the back portion of the tent to spread our sleeping bags. Since I had uttered those fateful words, Matt had not climbed into my sleeping bag. In a way, I felt betrayed, but then again, I still didn’t even know exactly what we were doing or where we were heading in regard to a relationship. It was something we needed to talk about, and as tired as I was tonight, I decided that I wanted to have a word with Matt after dinner, but before we hit the sack.
I found him in the line of men standing in front of the kitchen trailer. He saw me, gestured, and I joined him. He handed me a tray, and together we silently approached the steps leading up into the trailer. “Matt, can I talk to you for a few minutes after we eat?”
For a second I thought he was going to say no, but then he simply nodded. We moved through the trailer quickly. Some kind of noodle and ground beef mixture, similar to Hamburger Helper, but I didn’t care. I was so hungry I would eat just about anything. My stomach grumbled loudly as we carried our trays to the dining tent, found a spot at one of the tables, and quietly and quickly ate. The tent was relatively calm. The longer we were on the fire line, the less the men and women fighting the fire engaged in idle conversation. After four or five days of fighting a fire like this one, it took an effort just to find the energy to eat, let alone carry on a conversation.
Matt finished cleaning his plate just moments before me, and then he stood. I glanced up at him, hoping he hadn’t forgotten his promise to give me some time. He held out his hand.
“Give me your tray. We can talk behind the mess tent.”
I nodded and gave him my tray, and then exited the tent. We couldn’t linger at the table, as others were waiting to find a spot to eat. I slowly walked around the mess tent, my heart beginning to trip hammer with nervous agitation. What if he didn’t want to listen to what I had to say? What if he told me something I didn’t want to hear?
I heard footsteps and turned to find Matt approaching. I noted the wary expression on his face, but also determination. I wasn’t quite sure what to think about that. He grabbed my hand and led me into the woods behind the mess tent. That was fine with me; the more privacy for what I had to say, the better.
Finally, he paused. I sat down on a large rock while he leaned against the rough bark of a pine tree. He waited, and I supposed that I just had to spit it out. I took a deep breath. “Matt, what’s going on?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to be blunt. Are we in a relationship or what?” He said nothing. “Do we even have a relationship, Matt? And if we do, where is it going?” Matt shifted uncomfortably, gazed down at his feet, and then back at me. My heart sank.
“I told you, Jesse, no strings, at least for now.”
My heart thudded so hard in my chest I thought for sure it was going to burst past my ribcage. “Too late for that,” I muttered. “Matt, I want you to know how much you mean to me, and the reason that I blurted those words—”
“I’d rather not talk about that now,” he interrupted.
I frowned. “Matt, you would know as well as I do that sometimes, things happen unexpectedly. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to… I don’t want regrets. I know I shouldn’t have blurted my feelings to you, but when I saw you standing there with your head bleeding and your clothes on fire, I realized that—”
“Don’t say it again, Jesse, please,” he interrupted again, his voice soft and low.
I began to grow angry. “I can’t help my feelings, Matt. It’s not like I’m asking you to reciprocate—”
“I do have feelings for you, Jesse,” he admitted. “But I’m not ready to—”
“I think if you talk about it, we could somehow work our way through it,” I said. He glanced up at me, frowning.
“Talk about what?”
“About your wife and son,” I said. My mouth had grown dry. I’m sure he saw the pulse throbbing in my neck. Even in the waning light of day, I saw the blood drain from his face. “Matt, I know you’ve suffered a terrible loss, but I think if we—”
“Who told you about that?” he demanded. He moved away from the tree, his legs slightly apart, his hands clenched into fists.
I was surprised by his reaction and hesitant to divulge the source of my information. I began to shake my head.
“Sam told you,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
I nodded.
He shook his head, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the tree. “Dammit!” Moments later, he opened his eyes and stared off into the distance. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jesse—”
I stood and tried to approach him. He held out a hand, stopping me.
“I mean it, Jesse. I do not want to talk about it.”
“But Matt, I think if we talk about it, about your feelings… we might be able to work our way past it —”
“I don’t want to work my way past it!” he nearly shouted. “Work my way past it? I lost my wife and child, Jesse, do you understand that?”
I stared at him in stunned dismay. “Of course I do! I know how you feel—”
“Do you?” he demanded. “Really, Jesse? How can you know how I feel?”
I stared at him, wide-eyed. “I lost people I cared about too—”
“Have you ever clutched desperately to the small hand of your dying son?” He ground out, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Have you ever had to listen to tiny lungs struggling for breath, the
same breath you used to feel on your neck when you rocked him to sleep?”
My eyes burned with tears at the image his words invoked inside me. Oh my God, his pain was so deep. “Matt—”
“Jesse, I know you lost your parents and your little sister to a fire. I know you’ve experienced the pain of loss. But I’m not ready to talk about my pain, not about my little boy and my… my wife… I’m not ready to talk about any of it, do you understand that?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Jesse, I care for you, but—”
I didn’t want to hear anymore. I especially didn’t want to hear any buts when it came to whatever it was that Matt and I had between us. I wasn’t expecting any declarations of undying love, but something… “Matt, I’m sorry I said those words, I really am—”
“Don’t be sorry for expressing your feelings. You took me by surprise, no doubt about it, but I just don’t think… I just don’t think it would work—”
I stepped toward him. He didn’t move. That was something, at least. He wasn’t turning away and walking away from me. “Matt, I’m not expecting anything from you. You’re the one that said no strings, and I’m abiding by that… for now. I just… I just want you to know that in spite of what I said, I don’t expect you—”
With no warning, his arms were around me, his lips pressed against mine. Like a glowing ember fanned into a flame, emotion, feeling, and desire erupted within me. I wanted to resist, really I did, but there was something about Matt that was impossible to resist. He was a wounded soul, much like me. Despite his protestations, I knew that he needed to have something to hold onto, to hope for, and to live for. Whether it was saving lives in the emergency room or fighting a wildfire, we all needed a purpose in life.
I understood now that Matt used his nursing and his firefighting as a barrier of sorts—a barrier that prevented him from focusing on deeper issues. After all, he was the one who wanted everything superficial.
No emotion—no pain.
No connections—no pain.
He had to realize that he couldn’t possibly go through life without making emotional connections with others, didn’t he? Or would he continually pull away emotionally, like Sam had warned?
I didn’t know, and I didn’t know how I could help him. All I knew was that with his kiss, I felt desire, and it wasn’t just physical for me anymore. It was mental and emotional. Sharing my passion with Matt was also, at least to me, sharing a part of my soul. At this moment, I didn’t expect, or want, anything from Matt other than what he was doing to me right now.
His arms held me close against the hard length of his body. My groin was pressed against his, and I felt his cock hardening against my belly. I knew he felt desire for me, his erection proved it, but was that all he felt for me? Sexual desire?
Again, I told myself that it didn’t matter, that I would take anything that Matt had to offer. It wasn’t that I was desperate, but I did want him, and for now, I guess I would have to be satisfied with what he gave me, what he offered of himself. Right now, that was his body, and right now, that was enough.
In a matter of moments, our tongues slid into each other’s mouths. I’m sure that he smelled the smoke, ash, and dirt on me as much as I smelled it on him. To me, it was invigorating, life affirming, earthy… and primeval. I wanted to feel him deep inside me, assuaging my desire, and my own seeking for something… perhaps not love, but affirmation that I meant something to him. Something.
My breath accelerated, my pulse throbbed in my neck, and my nipples tingled and puckered with desire. It didn’t take much for Matt to elicit such desire in me. A simple kiss. My insides were on fire. I yanked his T-shirt up, spread my fingers wide over his chest, once again marveling at the perfect structure of his musculature. I ran my fingers down his abdomen, feeling the muscles, the attachments to his rib cage, and his six-pack. His abdomen clenched slightly under my touch, and then my fingers were working on his button and zipper.
Unabashed, I reached my hand into his pants. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and neither was I. I wrapped my fingers around his cock, so velvety, warm and smooth on the surface, so miraculously hard underneath. Before I had even extracted him from his pants, I was stroking my hand up and down the length of him. My breath came in sharp gasps as his own hands reached under my shirt and cupped my breasts, as if weighing them, caressing them, his thumbs sweeping slowly and deliciously around my nipples.
“Matt,” I sighed, my breath merging with his. His lips stroked mine, his tongue delving in and out, swirling, and then once again his lips were pressed against mine as if he couldn’t get close enough. He lifted my shirt up over my head, and then he unhooked my bra and pulled it from my arms. I stood half-naked in front of him.
He lifted his head and stared down at my breasts. Just the look in his eyes made my nipples harden even more. I thrust my chest forward automatically, inviting his touch. His head dipped lower and his arms wrapped around me, lifting the upward as his mouth captured one of my nipples and began to suck. Hard, desperately. Almost to the point of pain. Then, he eased back a little, his tongue leaving my nipple, then flicking, then circling, and once again suckling. It felt like bolts of electricity were shooting from my nipples down my belly and into my pussy.
Of its own volition, my internal muscles began to contract and I soon found myself growing wet. Still holding me pressed close to him with one hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped my pants and shoved them down past my hips. He reached his hand in between my legs and cupped my pussy. He stroked gently, my wetness soon moistening his hand. His fingers played with my lips, and then his middle finger found the center of my being and dipped inside. My muscles instantly clutched at his finger while I moaned low in my throat. I thrust my hips closer to his groin, my hand tightening on his penis.
I didn’t know what I wanted, but I just wanted him to be closer. I pulled his head closer to my breasts and he obliged. His finger moved slowly inside me while his thumb caressed my clitoris. I began to gasp, nearly crying with the sensations he elicited within me. My hips rocked. My hand tightened around his cock, which continued to harden underneath my insistent stroking. I wanted to take him into my mouth, but I couldn’t move. I was bent slightly backward, only Matt’s strong arm holding me upright as his lips pillaged my nipples and his finger dipped into my slit, in and out, so wet, making me so hot for him that I nearly screamed.
His tongue pulled, sucked, and then he nibbled gently on my nipples. His finger continued to surge in and out. My hand pumped his cock faster, harder, and then I felt myself lose control. Every muscle in my body seemed to contract and pulse with my orgasm. Everything flashed white in my head as I heard the blood roaring in my ears, flooding my pussy with sensation. It was incredible, raw, and powerful.
My knees began to wobble, but I barely had time to catch my breath before he clutched me with both hands, spun me around, and then braced my hands against the tree in which he had been leaning moments earlier. He grasped my hips, spread my legs apart, and then plunged into me from behind. I had never had sex this way. I gasped as he entered me, my insides wet, slick, and ready for him.
I adjusted my position slightly to enable me to take him deeper inside. His hands tightened on my hips as he pumped into me, harder, as if trying to delve ever deeper. I heard him grunting with exertion. I didn’t know quite how to move because the position was new to me, so I just relaxed and tried to clench my internal muscles around him every time he withdrew.
He groaned. My hands clutched at the bark of the pine tree, rough against my palms, but I didn’t care. My breasts jiggled as he pounded into me. I heard his balls slapping against my skin, and then, with a deep growl, he suddenly pulled out. I felt hot semen squirt rhythmically onto my lower back, dripping down my ass.
I remained frozen for several seconds until he pressed up against me, and then I felt him wiping at the hot semen. I was panting for breath. Finally, stiffly, I stood upright. From behind, he pulled my pants up. I
turned around just as he was plucking my bra and T-shirt from the dirt. He shook them out and handed them to me. While I put my bra back on, he watched my every move, his eyes still riveted to my breasts as he tucked himself into his pants, zipped and buttoned them. Then, he yanked his T-shirt back on, tucking it into his pants, hiding the wet spot he’d use to wipe off the semen. I pulled my T-shirt over my head, letting it hang down untucked.
I stared up at him for several moments, saw the pulse still throbbing in his neck. There was no denying the intense sexual desire and passion that we shared. It seemed as if nothing could curb that passion. One touch of his lips and I turned into butter. I didn’t say anything this time, just continued to stare up at him while he stared back. I wish I knew what he was thinking, but his expression gave me no clue. Finally, he gestured with his chin back toward camp.
He turned to leave.
“Matt—”
“It’ll never work, Jesse.”
With that, he left me standing there, my body still hot from his touch. As he walked away, I knew that I had to help him find a way to overcome, or at least deal with his tragic loss. I sighed, not knowing whether I would be the one to help heal his soul.
Chapter 3
I decided that the last thing Matt needed was for me to start pushing, and honestly, I didn’t really have any right to. I would have to bide my time and try to be patient, but Lord, that was going to be difficult.
I realized that a lot of us had baggage, and that some of that baggage was devastating. It was all relative anyway, wasn’t it? Not one of us ever entered into a relationship with a clean slate. I realized that. I also realized that perhaps, just perhaps, Matt might not ever reciprocate my feelings for him.
