Ring of Fire

by Taylor Lee

  “What are you doing, Nate?”

  “Erin, I realized I forgot dessert.”

  She laughed. “Good grief, Nate. I can’t eat another thing.”

  Her cheeks heated and her lips curled in a shy smile. “I thought you said that you’d tasted every sweet thing on my body and you were done.”

  “Oh, honey, that was a lifetime ago. Besides, how can we have a picnic without s’mores?”

  Fifteen minutes later, Erin chided herself that she hadn’t paid enough attention to the gleam in his eyes. Before she could protest, he’d fastened her hands around the rungs on the ski ladder and proceeded to paint what she was sure was an erotic design on her breasts. His ‘paint’ was melted marshmallows and chocolate.

  Struggling against the loose bindings that she could have removed if she’d really wanted to, Erin shouted in mock outrage.

  “So help me, Nathan Stryker! If you dare take a picture of me…”

  Nate clicked his cell phone and chuckled. “Ah, Darlin’, this work of art needs to be preserved for posterity. I always knew your breasts are gorgeous—but dripping with gooey marshmallow and chocolate? Move aside, Jackson Pollack!”

  “Dammit, Nate, wipe this off of me now!”

  “Erin, Erin, there’s only one way that I know of to get this off. That’s like… this.”

  He crawled up between her legs and proceeded to carefully and fastidiously lick her sticky skin, chuckling at her protests that soon became soft moans and ultimately passionate cries.

  Nate held her in his arms murmuring soft words of praise as she came down from her climax.

  “I love you, Erin.”

  Her voice was shaky, husky from her ardent screams.

  “I love you, Nate.”

  She snuggled against him then reached up and stroked his cheek.

  “Thank you for tonight, Nate. You made me feel very special.”

  “Thank you, Erin, for making this night only about you and me.”

  He was quiet for a moment then rubbed at a spot on the underside of her breast.

  “Oh, oh. I think I found more chocolate….”

  Erin moaned. “God, Nate. I never thought I’d say this but I really cannot take any more … I’m exhausted.”

  He studied her and then nodded in agreement.

  “You’re right, baby. The only way to get all of this off of you is like this.”

  Nate picked her up in his arms and strode to the edge of the boat. With a heave he tossed her over the railing into the water. Her outraged screams were drowned in the splash of his big body hitting the water as he dove in beside her.

  ~~~

  The pink fingers of dawn streaked the sky before they finally fell asleep, locked in each other’s arms. When he woke, Nate rearranged the pillow under her head and covered her naked body with a soft blanket. He forced himself to lie quietly beside her, careful not to wake her. He knew only too well what was likely to happen today. Much better to grab these precious moments of peace while they could.

  Chapter 21

  “It is indeed a tragedy, Señor Jones. To ‘lose’ millions of dollars of raw material and sixteen of my men? But rather, the word I would first choose is disaster. For you.”

  Jeb sucked in a harsh breath and ran his hand over his sweaty brow. He’d showered less than an hour ago trying to scrub the rancid stench off his body but already his rumpled clothes smelled sour, like curdled milk. Fuck. Who knew that fear really did stink. He gripped his phone and clung to the side of the desk. Determined not to let the loathsome man hear his fear, he was conciliatory.

  “I agree, Señor. Disaster is precisely the correct word for what happened. But not for me. Rather, the despicable bastards who viciously killed my men as well as yours and blew up the precious cargo and my lab—need to be quaking with fear. Trust me, Señor, the assholes who destroyed our property and killed our men will pay. And so will the cowardly fucker who betrayed me. He will pay personally for his treachery.”

  In apparent agreement, the Mexican seemed almost consoling.

  “Si. Deception in one’s ranks is always troubling. And should be handled quickly… and firmly. My understanding is that while you clearly had a viper in your nest, the true villain in this case is the policeman—the yellow-haired detective who pulled off this rather extraordinary raid. I don’t approve of the outcome, but one cannot help but be impressed at his thoroughness. Tsk, tsk. To destroy millions of dollars of product? A true believer, si? Or perhaps, Señor Jones, his dislike for you is that intense. It must be doubly painful for you to be shown up by a small town cop.”

  The intentional goading hit Jeb at his most vulnerable place. The place that knew that once again, his lifelong nemesis had beaten him, brought him down. He choked back the bile rising in his throat, his anger flaring.

  “No one hates Nate Stryker more than I do. But in my world, we do not call the game at halftime.”

  The Mexican’s voice was low, all the more frightening for its deceptively soft tone.

  “You seem confident, Señor Jones, that you can right this terrible wrong. I hope for your sake this is not mere bravado. We gave you a fortune of raw material—on consignment. I trust you know what that means, si, Señor?”

  Jeb kept from spitting out a sarcastic reply.

  “Yes, I know what consignment means.”

  “Bueno. But just to be clear. To be sure that we are—how do you Anglos say it?, on the same page? Si? In our enterprise, consignment implies trust. And in my world, trust is sacred. Betraying our trust means one thing and one thing only.”

  Jeb broke in. His fear made him reckless, desperate. Did the fucker really think Jeb didn’t know how much danger he was in? Knowing that he was lying and worse, that the asshole on the other end of the phone knew it as well, Jeb forced himself to be firm, commanding.

  “Listen. I have resources. You’re not my only supplier. I’ve already spoken with my Afghani source. He owes me raw material. I will replace what you lost by the end of next week.”

  There was a long silence. Jeb held his breath waiting for him to speak. When he did, his adversary virtually hissed in his ear.

  “Forty-eight hours, Señor Jones. Not a minute more.”

  Jeb swallowed hard when the line went dead.

  ~~~

  “They really are boys at heart, aren’t they?”

  Annika tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder and shook her head.

  Kaitlin patted the baby’s back, listening for the hearty burp that was sure to come and agreed.

  “Give them a football and I swear, grown men who shoot guns for a living and put out fires become teenage boys fighting for every yard and screaming for victory.”

  She added “I guess we shouldn’t complain when our ‘boys’ look the way they do. Have you ever seen more gorgeous men? All those yummy muscles—and sweaty bodies on top of it!”

  When both Erin and Annika stared at her in surprise, Kaitlin gave them a disparaging grin.

  “You think just because I’m an old married woman nursing my baby, that I don’t appreciate eye candy when I see it? Especially when one of those hunky guys out there happens to be the guy I shack up with every night?”

  Erin laughed along with her friends. She couldn’t agree more with Kaitlin’s outrageous assessment of ‘their’ men. No one had to tell her how gorgeous Nate was, but Sam in a leaner way was almost as impressive. While Connor wasn’t as tall as Nate, what he lacked in height he made up in breadth and all of it was solid muscle.

  Erin sighed in pleasure. She and Nate had come from their boat to join the Annual Founder’s Day picnic on Lake Pleasant. Much as she hated to leave their lover’s lair, she was delighted that they had another day together. If only Nate could actually have the entire day off. He was tackling and running the football with the best of them but he had to be tired. Given that neither one of them had gotten much sleep last night, she wasn’t surprised. Her cheeks heated at the memory.

  “I guess I d
on’t have to ask what that look is about, Erin.”

  Erin glanced up startled to see Kaitlin shaking her head and sharing a smile with Annika.

  She tried for nonchalance.

  “I… I don’t know what ‘look’ you mean.”

  Annika poked her in the ribs and laughed.

  Kaitlin threw her a knowing glance.

  “From the gossip I hear, my ‘almost sister in law’ isn’t someone to mess with. I heard you’ve been throwing your weight around, Erin. All one hundred and twenty sexy pounds of you, that is.”

  Seeing both Annika and Kaitlin smiling at her, Erin frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kait.”

  Annika laughed. “C’mon, girlfriend. Everyone at the station is talking about the way you took on Nate and Sam and the Chief. I heard you raked them over the coals.”

  Relieved that her friends were referring to her outburst at the station, not the previous night, Erin shrugged.

  Kaitlin sniffed. “As you should have, Erin. I’m proud of you. I gave Connor a piece of my mind. How dare those outrageous men think that just because they’ve got big muscles and a bigger dick, they can order us around?!”

  Erin and Annika started in surprise at Kait’s crude reference to their mens’ anatomy but then they both laughed.

  Erin threw Kait a grateful nod. She loved Kaitlin’s fiery temper and was glad Kait wasn’t the only one who had one. She’d heard Nate and his cousin lamenting about the tyranny of Irish women. But both men acknowledged the ‘upsides’ of all that passion were worth the tyranny.

  “I’m glad you agree, Kait. I was angry that Connor let Nate bully him. But I was mostly angry with Nate. It makes me furious that he thinks he has to protect me, that I can’t take care of myself. For God’s sake, I’m a grown woman. And a firefighter. I swear if he could Nate would put me in a plastic bubble and keep me there. You know like those kids who can’t survive in a regular environment.”

  Turning to Annika, she added, “I’m also glad it was all over the station that I was angry. And that I didn’t let the Chief or Sam or even Nate bully me.”

  She hesitated then added scathingly. “A lot of good it did me. I was virtually banned from the firehouse and became a prisoner in my own house. After I left our cabin and went to Nate’s apartment, he still sicced his men on me. Do you know what he did? He posted guards around the apartment. Those poor guys were out there all day and night. They ducked into the shadows whenever they saw me. As if I didn’t know that they were there and that Nate had threatened them with their lives if they left me alone. It was infuriating.”

  Erin frowned remembering how Nate had carted her down the stairs, her ass in the air and told her to thank the nice men who’d protected her. Remembering the audacious way he’d patted her bottom she felt her cheeks heat.

  Kaitlin laughed and winked at Annika. “Oh, oh. Methinks our little Irish friend may be holding out on us. I think that girlish blush is the giveaway. C’mon, girlfriend. Like everyone doesn’t know that you and Nate spent hours on your boat last night. Look at Frank Henderson over there grinning like a hyena. He’s become a rock star telling everyone about all the things Nate ordered for your boat. Rose petals? Candles? Champagne? Damn, girlfriend, I know the Big Dog is as horny a hound dog as they come. But, a romantic? C’mon, Erin. Let’s have it. We want the deets. All of them!”

  Erin tried to act nonchalant but she knew her face was flaming red. She could kill Frank for telling everyone what Nate had done. It was so sweet and yes, romantic as hell. She did her best to change the subject. The last thing she was going to do was give Annika or, god forbid, Kaitlin, a rundown of all the things Nate did to her last night. And she could have added if she chose, what she did to him. She licked her lips just thinking about it.

  When both of her friends shrieked with laughter, she realized what she’d done and buried her face in her hands. She did her best to recover. Trying not to glare at Frank who was obviously regaling another bystander who was looking at her and then at Nate with interest, she straightened her shoulders and sniffed. With as much dignity as she could muster she faced her friends.

  “I’m sorry that Frank can’t keep a secret. And yes, what Nate did was… was sweet and… never mind. What you apparently do not know about my fiancé is that he is an amazingly romantic man. And—”

  Annika reached over and put her fingers on Erin’s lips.

  “Erin, ignore your ‘almost’ sister-in-law. Everyone in this town, this state, knows that the Big Dog is crazy in love with you. I for one am glad that he insisted that you have an uninterrupted night together. You both deserve it.”

  Kaitlin shrugged in mock annoyance.

  “Fine. Annika, the nice person, is right. We shouldn’t tease you. But, damn girl. Rose petals?”

  When the three of them stopped laughing, Annika grew serious.

  “I’m going to surprise you both. I understand why Nate did what he did, Erin. I think at some level you do, too. This isn’t about you or your capabilities. Sam is as worried as Nate is. Kait, so is Connor. From everything I’ve heard, those White Supremacist crack-snorting assholes are as dangerous as hell. I don’t know if Nate told you this, Erin, but Jeb Jones threatened you personally.”

  At Erin’s frown, she added, “And he threatened Sam. Jeb’s a maniac, Erin. After the raid, Jeb said in front of a hell of a lot of witnesses that he would get Nate’s ‘uppity nigger’ and then go after his… well, you can imagine what he called you, Erin.”

  Erin gasped. Of course she knew Jeb was dangerous, but Annika’s obvious concern and the fact that Jeb had egregiously insulted Sam were chilling.

  “I’m sorry, Annika. I… I know that Nate is trying to protect me. And I know that Jeb is dangerous. I didn’t realize how despicable he is. I’m horrified that he also threatened Sam in such a disgraceful way.”

  Annika pressed her lips in a firm line, her startling blue eyes growing glacier hard. Erin could see why the men called her the Ice Princess behind her back. Not that Sam hadn’t been able to melt a lot of that ice, but the hard core of anger that made her lovely friend a feared veteran cop was never far from the surface. Especially when it came to Sam.

  Annika grimaced. “I know racial animosity is alive and well everywhere. Not only in smaller towns like this. But I have to tell you, these White Supremacists? They’re as dangerous, and as frightening as their beliefs. Add to that the vile enterprise that they’re running and I’ll tell you, Erin, and you too, Kaitlin, I’m as concerned as Nate and Sam are.”

  Chapter 22

  Nate glanced across the beach at the three women helping to set out food on the groaning picnic tables. Each of them was wearing an eye-stopping bikini and could have graced the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition.

  He tipped his beer bottle toward them and grinned in appreciation at Sam and his cousin.

  “Do you have any idea how lucky we are? Look at those women. Christ, I’m about to put up a kiddie fence, just to keep those outrageous men from slobbering all over them. Bad enough you can hear the assholes panting from here.”

  Sam and Connor chortled in response. Connor nudged him.

  “I dunno, Cuz, from what I hear from Frank Henderson, you did a little panting and slobbering of your own last night.”

  Nate shook his head. “Damn. As though anything is secret in this town. But I gotta tell you, both Erin and I needed last night. Hell, Sam, you must feel the same way. You weren’t there, Connor, at least in the flesh, but Hollywood and I had the experience of a lifetime two nights ago.” He whistled in amazement. “In the BoundaryfuckingWaters of all places.”

  Sam nodded in agreement.

  “That we did, bro,” Sam responded. Then, turning toward Connor, he added, “And your outrageous cousin shocked the hell out of this city slicker and the boys from the DEA. Can’t say he didn’t warn us. He taught us the proper way to blow shit up, a lesson none of us are likely to forget.”

  After their laugh
ter died down, Nate allowed a heavy sigh to escape his lips. Seeing Connor’s frown, Nate spoke up.

  “Sorry, Cuz. What could be better than Minnesota Spring sunshine and a day warm enough to hang out in swim trunks and drink beer with my buddies? The last thing I want to do is spoil this beautiful day with business.”

  Connor didn’t let Nate’s attempt to cover his anxiety slide.

  “Especially when that business involves the most unsavory element of our little burg, huh Cuz?” Connor’s frown deepened, obviously wanting to talk about what was front and center in all of their minds.

  “Tell me, Nate. How did Jeb keep getting worse and worse? You know him better than anyone. When did he become a homicidal maniac?”

  Nate shrugged. “The ‘bad’ was always there. It’s hard now to remember that there was once some good. At least the guy was charming as hell. He sure charmed me. At one point in my young life I would’ve followed him anywhere. He was a good-looking, fast-talking son of a bitch who could’ve played basketball or football for any college in the country. But as the Chief said, the ‘bad’ ran too deep. I’ll admit I was shocked when I got back from overseas to hear that Jeb was up to his ass in that white supremacy shit. The drugs didn’t surprise me. Only I assumed he’d be an addict not a dealer.”

  Nate snorted, reconsidering his understatement. “Hmm. A dealer? Is that what you call someone who has a multi-million dollar international business in drugs?”

  Sam shrugged.

  “I think you call the combination of his political views and his enterprise ‘dangerous as hell.’ “

  Connor spoke up. “What’s he gonna do now, Nate? You have to be worried.”

  “Of course, I am. I’d be crazy not to be. But Jeb’s got to be more worried than I am. The La Familia Muerte just lost a significant sum of money and is unlikely to take the loss graciously. I’d say Jeb has a couple of days at the most to make good on the loss. And unless the guys we have tracking him are full of shit, no one is going to be able to replace what the Mexicans lost.”