There was nothing maternal about her reaction. In an instant, concern morphed to desire. Her whole body ached for him. She felt his cock hardening again against her belly, a torch ready to set her ablaze. She ground her pubis against his maleness in a desperate, silent plea.
He relinquished her breast to capture her mouth. The kiss recalled her dream—pepper and spice, roiling heat and almost unbearable sweetness. She wanted nothing but that kiss, always and forever. Then he reached between her thighs to sweep one finger through her pussy. That was enough. Sylvie tumbled into the flames, eager to burn.
Chapter Three
“Who are you?” Sylvie sprawled on the ground where her final climax had abandoned her. The sky wheeled overhead, a blue so pure and bright it hurt her eyes. She rolled on to her side to face her maddeningly reluctant companion. “I’m Sylvie.”
His eyes were closed—against the glare, perhaps, or maybe fighting some inner hurt. Sylvie knew she wore a silly, satisfied grin, but the stranger’s lips pressed together in a thin line, as though he was holding something back. She leaned over to brush her mouth across his and succeeded in coaxing him to a half-smile. Golden light danced in his warm brown eyes.
“Who are you?” she repeated.
“Aidan. Aidan Kearney.” He cupped her chin and stroked his thumb over her cheek. Her pussy fluttered in response. “Sylvie. Forest woman. How appropriate. Your eyes are the exact same shade as the spruce trees up on Mount Howell.” He gestured towards one of the peaks surrounding the lake. “I apologise, Sylvie. I shouldn’t have…bothered you.”
“Bothered me? Are you crazy? My only complaint is that you didn’t ‘bother’ me enough!” She flipped over to stretch out on top of him, skin to skin. It felt delicious. Her breasts mashed against his chest, her nipples like granite pebbles trapped between them. His half-erect cock prodded her pubis, waking new heat in the soaked cleft between her thighs. Sylvie spread her legs, hoping to lure him into her depths. Far from exhausted, she wanted more of his fevered love-making.
“Don’t!” He tumbled her onto the ground and sat up, gathering his knees to his chest. The livid bulb of his cock peeked out between his muscled limbs, streaking his belly with pre cum. “Please, don’t. If you care about me at all…”
The pained look was back. Don’t be selfish, girl. Trying to ignore her arousal, she crossed her legs Indian-style opposite his temptingly naked form. “I do care,” she told him, capturing his hand in hers. “I can see that you’re suffering…but I don’t understand. I want you. You want me—I know you do. Why fight against our nature?”
His bitter laugh rang through the quiet meadow. “My nature—that’s the problem.”
“Tell me about it, Aidan. Maybe I can help.”
“You won’t believe me.” He buried his face in his hands, but she gently peeled his fingers away and forced him to meet her eyes again.
“Try me. I want to know.”
There was no happiness in his twisted grin. “You’ll think I’m crazy…”
“Everyone’s a bit crazy. Certainly I am. What’s the problem, baby?”
Aidan swallowed hard and stared at his hands. “I’m…I’m not what I appear to be.”
“Not a park ranger?”
“Well, I am a ranger—actually a fire warden. I’m assigned to the watch tower on Mount Howell. But that’s not what I mean.” Sylvie heard desperation in his voice. “What I mean is…I’m not a man.”
Sylvie burst into laughter. She couldn’t help herself. “You certainly could’ve fooled me!”
“No, no. I’m male, sure. But I’m not human.”
“What?” An image rose in her mind, his godlike form bathed in moonlight and wreathed in steam. “Not human?”
“No. I’m an Elemental. A Fire Elemental.”
Sylvie gave a slow nod. She should have been incredulous, surprised or shocked. Instead, she found herself reacting as though this made perfect sense, as though some part of her had known all along. “What does that mean?”
“I can kindle fires…and control them. And my body—in some sense that I really don’t understand myself—it’s composed of fire.”
“That’s why your skin feels so hot. And your cum…”
“My cum is the real problem. That’s why I can’t make love to you, not completely. My cum would burn you to a crisp. And not just you. Everything around us would go up in smoke.”
A cloud veiled the sun for a moment and a breeze rose, stirring Sylvie’s hair. She shivered, seeing the danger she’d barely escaped. Yet the pang of fear only served to excite her more. She stroked his forearm, savouring the heat that stung her fingertips.
“How do you know? When I touch you, I don’t actually burn…”
His ravaged expression made her regret the question.
“I didn’t learn what I was until I was a teenager. There was a girl my last year in high school…we loved each other, were going to marry. She persuaded me that we shouldn’t wait.” His voice cracked. He clutched his brow and massaged his temples.
Sylvie sat silent, squeezing his hand in hers and waiting for him to continue. Finally he looked up at her again, his eyes pools of pain.
“There was nothing left of her but ash and bone. I killed her. And burned her house to the ground. Her parents were out, but her little brother—” Aidan choked on a sob.
Sylvie rolled on to her knees and gathered him into her arms. His tears were a scalding rain on her breasts. “Aidan, baby, hush now…it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know—”
“It was my fault. I was so lost in my own desire, I didn’t recognise her cries were screams of pain rather than lust. I could have stopped…”
“You didn’t know. How could you have known? You were a virgin, too. When we’re in our teens, we’re nothing but a raging mass of hormones. We don’t understand the power of sex.” Sylvie suddenly had a vivid recollection of her own teen years, the unbearable need that used to drive her into the fields or the woods to pleasure herself. And then the aftermath—lying cradled by the crushed vegetation, the peace that nothing could disturb, other than the reawakening of her carnal urges.
Aidan extricated himself from her embrace. Reluctantly, she let him go. She sensed he might feel that her arms were a trap.
“So you see now? Why I can’t make love to you, the way I’m dying to do?”
She nodded, understanding but still unwilling to accept that she couldn’t have what she wanted so badly.
“So that was the only time? And it must have been, oh, years ago, right?” His smooth, taut body suggested that, like her, he was in his mid-twenties.
“Yeah, but…”
She rose to her feet, dragging him after her. “Maybe it wouldn’t happen anymore. Maybe it had to do with your closeness to puberty.” She rubbed her body against his, noting that despite his dark confession, he was now fully erect.
He grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Sylvie, stop it! Do you really want to take that risk?”
She did. She couldn’t help herself. At that moment, with his heat singing through her veins and turning her sex into a crucible of molten need, she thought she’d rather die than let him go. Think about him, she reminded herself. She sensed the weight of guilt that hung on his spirit. She was just making it worse.
“Anyway, I took a vow,” he murmured, pulling her close again and nuzzling her hair. “To never make love to another woman. You wouldn’t make me break that vow, would you?”
“I won’t,” Sylvie resolved. “But I want to. Oh God, how I want to!”
“You’ve come pretty close already.” For the first time, his laugh held more joy than bitterness.
She stepped back and surveyed his rampant cock. “It must be difficult for you too.”
“Are you kidding? I told you you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I meant it.”
He wasn’t touching her, but still she felt herself glow. “Thank you.” They stood naked in the aft
ernoon sunlight, no more than a foot or two apart. A rope of tension bound them, growing tighter by the second. Sylvie’s pulse quickened and her nipples swelled like ripe raspberries, ready to burst. Sweat dripped down between her shoulder blades. Pussy juice coated the inside of her thighs. Aidan’s chest stirred with his fast, shallow breathing while his gorgeous cock waved back and forth like a charmed snake. It doesn’t matter what we rationally decide, Sylvie thought. Our bodies won’t take no for an answer.
“Maybe we should put our clothes on,” she said finally. Not waiting for an answer, she reached for her discarded T-shirt. Regardless of her desire, she was determined not to cause Aidan even more pain.
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
She watched with regret as his bronzed flesh disappeared under his uniform. Her shirt and shorts felt constraining and unpleasantly warm, but Sylvie was willing to make the sacrifice so that Aidan could relax. He did, visibly, once they were both dressed. They stood for a long moment in the sun-washed meadow, more awkward than they’d been when they’d been nude.
Aidan finally broke the silence. “I’d better be getting back to the tower. I’m not supposed to take a break for more than two hours at a time.”
“Can I come with you?” Sylvie hadn’t planned to ask. She just couldn’t help herself.
“Um…well, I don’t think—”
“I promise I won’t try to seduce you. Girl Scout’s honour.” She crossed her heart over her unbound breasts and they jiggled under her shirt. They both couldn’t help laughing.
“You don’t have to try, Sylvie.” Aidan tried to be stern, but failed utterly. “You’re seductive under any circumstances.”
“Come on. Please? I’ll bet the view is spectacular up there. And it must be pretty boring, being by yourself all the time.”
“I don’t mind my own company. But you’re certainly right about the view.” Aidan scooped up her canteen from the ground and handed it to her. “I’ll probably regret this, but let’s go.” He headed for the edge of the clearing. “I don’t want to say goodbye to you.”
He spoke the last sentence under his breath, as he turned away from her, but Sylvie heard every word. “I feel the same way,” she whispered to the afternoon breeze.
* * * *
Aidan set a brisk pace, assuming—quite correctly—that Sylvie could keep up. She followed him along the trail, close enough that she could see the muscles in his back knot and unknot with each stride. She watched how his buttocks tensed under his tailored uniform slacks, and she got hotter and sweatier by the minute. She didn’t care. There was nowhere she would have rather been than hiking through the woods with Aidan Kearney.
For the most part, they walked in companionable silence. Sylvie marvelled at how comfortable she felt in his presence, despite the fact that they were practically strangers and regardless of his bizarre revelation about his identity.
He was completely at home in the wild. Once he stopped, a finger to his lips, motioning that she should listen. A cheerful snatch of bird song reached her, with a rising final note. “Warbling Vireo,” Aidan told her. “They must be nesting already. Usually they don’t start till late June. It must be the hot weather. It’s making everything crazy.”
I know what you’re talking about, Sylvie thought.
The rocky path began to climb. He turned back to offer her a hand at the steepest spots. Sylvie tried to hide the way even this casual touch inflamed her senses. Halfway up Mount Howell, on a ledge with a fine view of Crystal Lake, they stopped for a brief rest. Sylvie pretended not to notice the persistent bulge in Aidan’s crotch, but her spirit soared and her pussy grew even wetter—if that was possible—inside her sticky shorts.
“How long have you been a fire warden?” she asked, trying to distract them both.
“Eight years. Every summer since I turned eighteen.” He stared out over the valley. “I’ve stopped six forest fires, too.”
“I thought that fires were part of the natural cycle, necessary for the forest ecology,” she began. Then she registered the dry pain in his voice and understood. This was his way of making amends, of expiating his teenaged crime. Her chest ached with sympathy.
“In the winter,” she continued softly, “I’ll bet you serve as a volunteer fireman, up in some hill town.”
Aidan gave her a sharp look. “Shingle Springs,” he admitted “I was born only a dozen miles from there. It’s the closest thing I have to a home.” He glanced up at the sky. “Let’s get going. It feels like summer but the sun will disappear behind the mountains in an hour or two.”
He didn’t speak again until they reached an evergreen-fringed clearing near the peak. The fire survey station perched on metal struts three or four storeys high—well above the tallest trees.
“Here we are. Home sweet home.” He led the way up the steel ladder. Sylvie’s sore thighs protested as she climbed to the top of the tower, reminding her not only of their energetic hike but also of the frantic sex that had preceded it.
Aidan threw open the door to a spacious one-room hut glassed in on all four sides. A work table stretched along one wall, littered with books, papers and electronic equipment. Two cots stood against the opposite wall. At right angles to both, Sylvie saw what seemed to be a kitchen area with a Coleman stove and a dorm-style refrigerator. There was one walled-off corner that had to be a bathroom. A table and several folding chairs occupied the centre of the room.
Sylvie sank into one of the chairs, acutely aware of her aching muscles and sore feet.
“Go ahead and take your shoes off. I usually go barefoot around here.” Aidan bustled around, opening several of the windows. A balmy, forest-scented breeze freshened the previously closed-up space. Meanwhile, Sylvie unlaced and kicked off her boots, then peeled off her socks. The varnished planks of the floor felt smooth and cool under her soles. She filled her lungs with the mountain air.
“Ah! Wonderful! I guess I’m not used to that much walking.”
Aidan seated himself across the table. “You live in the city?”
“Yes, unfortunately. And I spend at least eight hours a day, five days a week in my office in front of a computer.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a city girl.” He leant forwards, fingers clasped together on the table, his eyes brimming with liquid gold. “You seem so at home in your skin.”
The setting sun slanted in, glinting on his spun-gold locks. For a moment it looked as though he had a halo. All Sylvie’s good intentions evaporated as a tidal wave of lust surged through her. She imagined herself standing and pulling her shirt over her head to reveal her lush breasts and engorged nipples. Then she’d strip off her shorts and run her fingers back and forth in her slit, teasing herself and tantalising him. He wouldn’t be able to resist—he hadn’t before, and now the connection between them was even stronger. She could practically feel his cock, hardening and twitching inside his pants.
Her oceany musk filled the space around them, mingling with the fragrance of pine resin and sun-baked stone. She was sure she saw his nostrils flare and his cheeks flush.
“Are you hungry?” His voice was steady—pleasant but neutral—belying the riotous signals she picked up from his body. “I’m afraid all I can offer is canned chilli, with some wild greens I picked this morning…”
Yes, I’m hungry, she wanted to scream. Hungry for your cock! Then shame flooded her, damping down her desire. She had promised him she’d behave, that she’d keep her distance and not tempt him. She wasn’t sure that she subscribed to his conviction that his cum would kill her, but clearly he believed it and suffered for that belief. Reminding him of their mutual attraction would just make him more miserable. For his sake, she had to control her carnal urges, difficult as that might be.
“Sounds good to me. At least as appetising as dinner back at my campsite—freeze-dried beef stew.” He rose from his chair and she followed. “Can I help?”
“No, that’s okay. It’ll just take me a few minute
s. But come over here first. You’ll like this.” He gestured towards the south-facing windows, the ones near the cots. A gap of about a yard separated the two beds. They stood together in that space, gazing out of the open window.
To the west, at their right, rose the high peaks, jagged and ashen against the orange sky. The sun streamed through gaps between them, loosing shafts of fire into the valley. Far below the fire tower, Crystal Lake was transformed from the sapphire mirror she’d seen earlier in the day to a sheet of beaten gold. The trees surrounding the water were already grey-green shadows, but the lake burned like the caldera of a volcano, brimming with molten lava.
Sylvie caught her breath. It was exquisite—awe-inspiring. Nothing in her city life was this lovely. Nothing had this power to rouse her emotions. A sense of completion, of rightness, settled on her. This was where she belonged. At the same time, her whole body vibrated with a new kind of excitement, similar to sexual arousal but somehow more subtle and refined.
She was acutely aware of Aidan’s bulk beside her and the strong, male scent of his sweat. He radiated heat—a human furnace. That was part of this bliss, too, inseparable from the miracle of the fiery water. Her need for him was a fierce, sweet ache that brought pleasure even without being consummated.
She didn’t dare move. She didn’t want to break the spell. Then she felt his fingers entwine with hers. She sensed the strength in his grip even as her skin burned from the contact.
Sylvie did not turn to him. It wasn’t necessary. She knew what he was thinking. She understood he wanted her. For now, in this endless moment, that was enough. His guilt eased in her presence. She felt his tension dissipate, bit by bit, as they continued to hold hands.
Neither spoke. Neither made any sort of effort to deepen the touch or turn it into something more explicitly sexual. That would have been redundant. They stood together, perfectly connected, until the sun sank out of sight and the flaming lake was extinguished.
Hot Spell Page 3
