Embracing the Quiet Night: A Missoula Smokejumper's Christmas (Missoula Smokejumpers Book 1)

by Piper Stone

“Yes, it does to me.”

  He sniffed and shuffled his feet, the silence remaining.

  Give him space. Give him time. The words, the near mantra had lingered, flowing in the back of her mind since the beginning of their relationship, but she refused to allow the night to be ruined. Holding her breath, she eased her hands onto his shoulders, leaning in. “Let’s go home.”

  He shook his head several times before nodding. “Yeah, home. Sounds good.” His face remained pinched as he scanned the empty lot.

  “I’ll meet you back at the truck.” She took a step away, fighting tears. He’d been brooding since just before Thanksgiving, his mood swings all over the place. Demons remained, furrowing deep inside. When he said nothing, she turned and walked briskly back toward the vehicle. How the hell was she supposed to get through to him when he refused to talk to her? She yanked off her gloves and brushed away the wayward tears, refusing to succumb to sadness.

  Whoosh!

  “Oh!” Squealing, the air was pushed out of her as she was shoved to the ground. Twisting, she rolled in the snow as she tried to get out from under him, laughter floating between them.

  Stoker maneuvered on top, thrusting her arms over her head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Showing you who’s boss.” He held her down as he bent over, dragging the tip of his tongue across the seam of her mouth.

  Sensing yet another shift in his mood, she jerked up, trying her best to free her hands. “We might have to renegotiate.”

  “Not a chance.” He kissed the tip of her nose before climbing off and tugging her to her feet. “A warm bath. A spanking by the fire. A glass of wine. Then we shall see.”

  “In that order?”

  “Hmmm… Spanking first.” Sticking out his knee, he popped her over and swatted her ass several times until she yelped. “Now, we go home.”

  Jessica lounged against his arm, her hand brushing back and forth across his crotch, as he drove home. Home was his cabin in the crest of the most gorgeous mountain range. The man had horses and the cabin was complete with an oversized stone fireplace. What wasn’t there to love? She switched on the radio, smiling as holiday music filled the small space.

  The classic holiday station was filled with songs from the Big Band era, crooners creating what she’d consider the perfect mood. Music. The thought threw her mind into overdrive. Sadly, she remained tense, resisting glancing at her watch at least three times. She’d anticipated the call coming during the middle of dinner. The producer was a formidable man, refusing to take no for an answer. There’d been no interruptions, but she could sense Stoker knew she was expecting a call or a text. She lifted her head as gravel crunched under the tires. They were almost home.

  “We do have the best outside lights in the area,” Stoker commented as he kissed the top of her head.

  “Not enough.” The single strand of lights was sad, put up after some intense nagging.

  He chuckled as he pulled the truck just outside the front door. Cutting the engine, he peered out the windshield. “I can only imagine the electric bill next month.”

  Punching him in the arm, she mumbled under her breath as she jumped out of the truck. “I’m buying a thousand more, no two thousand more tomorrow. Along with that artificial tree!” She jumped onto the porch, fumbling to find her keys. She could hear MacGyver barking, awaiting their arrival.

  “I’m cutting off your allowance!”

  “Never!” She made it inside before his boots hit the porch stairs. Breathing hard, she jerked off and dropped her coat, laughing the entire time. Rubbing Mac’s head, she dropped her purse and raced into the kitchen, giggling as she heard the front door slam. Determined to make the rest of the evening special, she raced around the kitchen island, her hands placed on the end as he rushed into the room.

  Stoker stopped short, his grin turning seductive then commanding. “Come here, little girl. Take your punishment.”

  “Nope.”

  “You will or your spanking will be worse.” He grinned as he yanked off his coat, tossing the leather onto a kitchen chair.

  Woof! Woof!

  She eyed Mac as he raced into the room, jumping on the back of Stoker’s legs. “Mac says no.”

  “And he’s not in charge.” He darted to the left, then the right.

  “No!” She couldn’t stop laughing as he rounded the corner, getting closer. “Mac. Save me!” Somehow, she managed to race around him and back into the living room, almost doubling over with laughter.

  “You can run, sweetheart, but I will catch you always.” Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he yanked her back as he plopped down on the couch, tugging her over his lap.

  Woof!

  She struggled in his hold as MacGyver jumped on the couch, licking her face as she continued to laugh.

  He pressed his hand on the small of her back. “No fighting or I’ll strip you naked.”

  Crack! Pop!

  “Ouch! That hurts.”

  “Spankings are supposed to hurt. Remember?”

  Smack! Crack!

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she insisted and buried her face into the pillow.

  “Today. Let’s talk any other day.”

  Whap! Smack! Pop!

  He peppered her ass with hard strikes, one coming right after the other. “Back talking. Not listening. Those are just two of your normal infractions.”

  Crack! Whap! Pop!

  Jessica kicked out again as the punishment continued until she stopped struggling, accepting not only her discipline, but his total control. Within seconds tension eased, replaced by a series of warm sensations rushing into every cell.

  “And argumentative? Off the charts,” Stoker mused as he continued.

  Smack! Slap!

  Clenching her eyes shut, she gripped the arm of the couch, completely letting go. Everything about his touch, the way his fingers brushed her skin or his kisses early in the morning were incredible, giving her a sense of peace. His domination was unexpected, a different type of relationship but one she’d grown to desire more every day. His firm hand alone was enough to give her goose bumps.

  “Ten more. Then we’ll see in the morning if you’ve learned your lesson. If not, I might be forced to use my belt.”

  Whap! Crack!

  She heard the words, knew what he was saying, but at this point she’d slipped into her own moment of pure ecstasy.

  “You did very well,” he growled as he eased her down onto her knees and cupped both sides of her face. “You need this every day.”

  Breathing out, she licked her dry lips and pushed his legs open, crawling in closer. “Every single day?”

  “Yep. I should spank you every morning. Then when you sit down, you’ll be reminded that I own you.” His words husky, he rubbed his hand down the length of her neck, squeezing her breast.

  A wash of heat rushed up from her cunt, sliding along her skin until her face was flushed, her mouth watering. She fumbled with his belt as he pinched her nipple. The dichotomy of pain and pleasure left her clinging to him, desperate to have his cock in her mouth. Her fingers remained stiff, yet she managed to unbutton and unzip as he slipped his hand into her blouse, pushing past the thin lace of her bra, she wanted nothing more than to have him rip off her clothes, and take her in a desperate rage.

  “What do you want?”

  “Everything.” When she freed his throbbing cock, she smiled before lowering her head, engulfing just the tip, savoring the intense scent of a man who scintillated her mind as well as her body. She kept her eyes locked on his face as she sucked, using her strong jaw muscles and eased her other hand just under his balls. The moment she rolled them between her fingers, he grunted, his body shaking.

  “Jesus!” Stoker tugged at her blouse, blinking as he struggled in his attempt to unfasten it. Hissing, he yanked both sides, popping the buttons.

  She pushed him back as she licked around his cockhead then took his shaft down an inch at a time. Pumping the
base, she continued sucking until he thumped against the back of the couch, spreading his legs wide open.

  “Suck me, baby. Yeah. God!” He placed his hand on top of her head, his fingers intertwining in her long strands of hair.

  Very slowly, she pulled back then licked the underside of his cock until she reached his testicles. Darting out her tongue, she licked around his swollen balls as she inhaled, shivering from the intense wafting of his sex. She took one into her mouth as she twisted her hand around his shaft, moving up and down until the friction forced his ass off the couch.

  “Damn! You’re going to make me come.”

  She blew a swath of air across his balls before sucking on the other then licked back up. “Then I guess I should stop.”

  “You do and another spanking,” he teased, his words strangled.

  “I might risk it.” She opened her mouth and blew out before taking half of his dick into her mouth. The taste of his pre-cum, as a long string trickled down the back of her throat, gave her another series of quivers. She could do this all night long. Moving up and down, she took another inch with each pass until the tip hit the back of her mouth.

  Ting. Ting.

  Tensing, she continued her actions as the sound of her phone, still nestled in her purse, floated into the room. Her hand went slack as she debated answering the call. Of course, she knew who was on the other end. They were calling, the executives from the record company.

  Stoker allowed an exaggerated sound to slip past his lips. He let go of her hair and looked up. “I guess you need to answer that.”

  She eased back and frowned as she darted a glance toward her bag. “I won’t be long.”

  Ting. Ting.

  “Sure. Whatever.” He sat up, scooting to the side and brushing both hands through his hair. “Go on. I know it’s important. It always is.”

  Scrambling to her feet, she shook her head. “Not always. I don’t get many calls.”

  “Lately, you do.”

  As she took long strides, grabbing her purse, she realized he was exactly on point. The calls came at odd times, weekends, nights. There was no rhyme or reason as to when she received what everyone at the record company perceived as an important contact. She huffed hearing him mumble under his breath.

  “I’m getting a beer.”

  She swallowed hard before answering. “Jessica Dunn.”

  “Jessica. Mark Gillespie. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  “No. This is fine.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, cringing when she heard Stoker slapping his hand against something in the kitchen.

  “Good. I know it’s short notice, but we have everything ready for the contract. Now, I do admit that we need to have a few sessions in the studio, just to make certain we’re all going in the right direction.”

  Wham!

  The clattering of glasses was close to pissing her off. Stoker had his career and she did everything she could to support him. What about hers? The words suddenly dawned on her. “The studio? I don’t understand.” She’d been out to California twice to test her work with a new band, even recording three demos, all in an effort to secure a record deal. The last had also had the band recording six new songs. In her mind, enough for the entire CD. This was unexpected.

  “Nothing to worry about. I assure you,” Mark said then laughed.

  The sound of others talking behind him created a block of noises. “What do you need?” She walked closer to the kitchen, daring to look inside. Stoker stood at the back window, his hand on the glass. This wasn’t good.

  “I’m sorry. Hold on just a second.” Mark’s laughter became muffled.

  She swallowed hard and inched into the kitchen. In the dim lighting, she could just see his reflection, his pensive face. No, his pissed expression. He was enraged. She rubbed her tired eyes and walked back into the living room, pacing back and forth. Leaving during the holidays was ridiculous. What the hell were they going to do before Christmas?

  “Jessica. I apologize. We’re having a party tonight, but I wanted to make certain and connect with you. Anyway, I have a flight lined up for tomorrow. You can leave straight from Missoula with a connection. You’ll be here in time to meet with the top executives. I don’t mind telling you that getting everyone here on a Sunday took some doing.”

  Jessica couldn’t have heard correctly. The asshole had booked a plane already? Gritting her teeth, she tried to remember that less than a year ago, she’d been a has been, nothing more than a tawdry lounge singer. Bide your time. You can do this. Just a few days. “Okay. I guess that’s all right, but I do need to get back.” Maybe the man didn’t celebrate Christmas.

  “Sweetie. This is better than okay. We are signing you to a four-record deal. I just need a few days with you, recording some new songs. We’ve had a slight change in the band members.”

  “A few days? It’s Christmas.” Had he mentioned there was another change?

  Mark sighed then laughed, a hitch in the tone. “Do I need to remind you what we’ve already invested so far?”

  Invested? Now, she was pissed, but she wanted this. Regaining and rebuilding her career meant everything to her. “I leave tomorrow? What about this change?”

  “We can talk about details tomorrow. Seven am flight your time. I’ll have you back by the fourteenth. I’ll have my assistant meet you at the airport. Everything else will be taken care of. Deal?”

  She could just make out another woman’s laughter, the clinking of glasses. After stealing another look at the door to the kitchen, she closed her eyes. “That’s fine. I’ll be ready. Tomorrow at seven. Thank you.”

  “Oh, and don’t forget to bring your guitar and a few nice dresses. We do have some parties that you will need to attend. All in an effort to build your posse. See you tomorrow.”

  Click!

  Jessica held the phone to her head, her heart racing. How in the hell was she supposed to tell Stoker she was leaving? They were supposed to go to a party at Ziggy’s on Tuesday. The event had been planned for over a month. She tossed the phone down on the coffee table and clenched her fists. You need to do this. This is your career. Yeah, true enough.

  Garnering her courage, she walked with purpose into the kitchen. “Stoker, I need to…”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” he interrupted then swiveled in her direction, his eyes blazing. “You’re leaving tomorrow. I take it you won’t be back for a while either.”

  The words were accusatory, as if she was going to spend time with another lover. “Yes. The record company is ready to sign. Isn’t that wonderful?” The words sounded hollow, a weak attempt at soothing the savage beast. His beast.

  “And this can’t wait until after Christmas?”

  “No, it can’t. They want to get everything in place. I’m supposed to cut the last few songs for the CD in January. Remember?” She inched closer, beads of perspiration trickling down the back of her neck. “This is important to me.”

  “And so are we!” he snapped then recoiled, turning his head.

  An awkward silence settled in.

  “I just don’t get why this has to be now.” He looked down.

  She was so unsure of what to do, but knew that if she didn’t go, the deal would be toast. “I have to go. You know that. Just five days. Less really because I’ll be here the night of the fourteenth. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Stoker tilted his head, his expression hard. “Five days. Sure. Might as well make it two weeks.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! You go for weeks at a time!”

  “I. Save. Lives.”

  The words stung, hitting her straight in her heart. She swallowed and looked down at Mac’s sweet face. This wasn’t an argument that she could win. “I know that. That’s why you’re a hero. I’m not. I’m just a lousy musician. I do nothing for this world but sing. Right?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No? Well, that’s what you were thinking. Holier than thou when yo
u need to be. Aren’t you, Stoker?” Seeing the flash of anger in his eyes as well as a hint of remorse, she retreated, tears slipping past her lashes. “Yeah, just like I thought. Fine. Maybe we need some time apart. To think. To think hard. Don’t call me. I don’t want to hear from you. Understand?” When he said nothing, she sniffed. “Lots of time. I’m going to bed.” Storming off, she allowed the tears to flow. The old argument was tiring, leaving her questioning everything about their relationship.

  This trip might be just what they both needed. Silence. There would be no discussions and zero phone calls. Then, he could see what life without her would be like. She raced into the bedroom, slamming the door. Then she threw herself across the bed. Why couldn’t this be easier?

  Chapter 2

  Stoker tossed his bag against the locker, snorting as the entire metal box rocked. He glared up at the wall clock, more than cognizant he was late to the morning meeting. What the fuck did he care? He loved his job, even though almost everyone would call him insane given the enhanced danger. From firefighter to smokejumper, a dream come true. If only his continuous nightmares would stay locked in the very dark closet.

  He snarled as he stormed toward the open room, standing a solid five feet away from everyone else. While he was learning to control his anger, certain ugly demons rallied every once in a while, threatening to consume his very soul. Jessica understood. In fact, she’d been one of the few to help calm the rage, a leftover from several tours with the Marines, his capture and imprisonment for months.

  Captain Phillips lifted a single eyebrow but otherwise didn’t react. “As I was saying. We’re going up to an area of Blackfoot to cut down a series of trees. We remain in a drought this year and the area has been identified as a potential fire hazard. We should get through the work today. Cut what you can. Burn the rest. You know the drill.”

  “Yes, sir!” the collective group said.

  “We leave in ten minutes.” The captain nodded before heading toward his office.

  Stoker rubbed his aching head. Four aspirin had done nothing to ease the nagging pain. He could tell one of his best friends, also a former firefighter, was glaring at him, the same admonishing expression he’d seen at least once a week. He sensed other members of the exclusive smokejumping team were mumbling under their breaths, wondering what was wrong this time. “Go ahead. Say it.”