Radclyffe - Firestorm

“They’re red,” Mallory muttered, stepping to the side to get a closer look at Jac’s shoulders without touching any part of her body. She didn’t think she could control herself if she touched her right now, which was as confusing as it was infuriating. Even in the throes of passion she’d always maintained control. Always aware of her surroundings, part of her ready to pull back, pull away, adjust if the intimacy became too personal. “I think you’re getting a blister along the side of your neck.” Gingerly, she brushed the dark hair away from Jac’s nape. The instant she touched Jac’s skin, Jac jerked as if Mallory’s fingertips were electrified. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Jac grunted, keeping her head down. Her arms were taut, the muscles banded in her biceps and forearms. Her shoulders were bunched, tight, anticipatory. Jac reminded Mallory of a jungle cat preparing to pounce, and she wasn’t sure she’d resist. Disgusted with her unprofessionalism and lack of control, Mallory backed up so quickly her calves smacked into the bench in the middle of the room. “Ow, damn it.”

Jac gave her a look over her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Dandy.”

“So, am I going to jump?” Jac asked, starting to turn.

Mallory held up her hand, wanting nothing more than to get out of Jac’s presence until she was able to rein in her runaway libido. “I want to take a look at your neck again later, make sure it’s not blistering. But if it’s no worse, yes, you can jump.”

“It’s nothing,” Jac insisted.

“No heroics, remember,” Mallory said. “Don’t make me give you any more demerits today.”

“Demerits? What is this, scout camp?”

Mallory laughed in spite of herself. “You’re impossible, you know that? Are you ever serious?”

“Only in secret.”

“What do you mean?” Mallory immediately regretted asking. The conversation had veered too close to home, like so many conversations with Jac seemed to do.

“If you don’t let on you care, it’s harder to get hurt, right?”

Mallory’s stomach twisted, and like a coward, she ran. “Not if you don’t want anything to begin with, and I don’t. I’m not in the market for anything.”

Jac regarded her steadily. “Then I guess you’re safe.”

“Take your shower, Russo, then come by the infirmary.” Mallory stepped over the bench, and the tightness in her chest eased. The distance helped. “I want to check on Ray, then we’ll do a little first aid on your neck and back.”

“I can take care of it.”

“Probably.” Mallory pulled the door open. “But I’ll do it better.”

Chapter Seven

Jac waited a full minute before pulling off her briefs—still watching the door, half hoping Mallory would walk back in. Mallory had left so quickly, Jac was still trying to figure out what she’d said or done to spook her. Whoever had nicknamed Mallory “Ice” didn’t know her very well, or maybe they did, but they just didn’t pay enough attention to what mattered. Ice wasn’t anywhere close to describing her. Mallory was cool all right, tightly wrapped and incredibly controlled, but there was fire licking at the undersurface of that ice. A pressure cooker of hot emotion, threatening to create a fissure where all that passion would come exploding out. The flames were there in Mallory’s eyes if you looked, and Jac had been looking.

Mallory had been looking at her too. Jac shuddered. The way Mallory’s gaze had tracked over her body had ignited her skin and turned her insides to molten lava. When Mallory had lingered on her breasts with her lips parted as if she couldn’t catch her breath, a drumbeat of need thudded in Jac’s stomach. She was glad she’d still had her briefs on, because she was instantly wet. Wet and hard and if Mallory had been any closer, she would have known. Any closer for any longer and Jac might’ve done something exceedingly uncool. Making a move on the training instructor was a really bad way to start boot camp.

Another minute passed and the locker room door didn’t open. Mallory didn’t come back. Jac’s skin bumped up in the cold air, and she brushed her hand over her chest as if that would warm her. She was hot, burning on the inside, but she shivered. Her fingertips brushed her breast and her stomach hollowed. She let her fingertips stray to her nipple, brushing lightly, knowing she’d regret getting herself worked up even more, but unwilling to relinquish the memory of Mallory being so close, almost touching her. The drumbeat moved lower, focused between her legs.

“I don’t need this.” Jac dragged her hand away from her breast. She stripped out of her briefs, grabbed a towel from a stack on a shelf opposite the lockers, and padded into the adjoining shower cubicle. Standing to one side, she wrenched on the dial and waited for the water to heat. As soon as it was steaming, she got under, braced her hands on the wall, and lowered her head to let the hot water pound over her neck and shoulders. Facing the wall, she immediately thought of leaning against the lockers with Mallory behind her. She’d gotten harder then, gotten wetter. She didn’t usually think about being taken, but she’d been thinking about it then. About Mallory’s mouth moving down the center of her back, about Mallory’s hands reaching around to hold her breasts and squeeze her nipples. She groaned and realized her fingers had found their way back to her breasts. No way she was going to get off in the shower when Mallory might change her mind and walk back in at any minute. That’s all she’d need to really convince Mallory she had a control problem. Besides making her look like a kid in summer camp, what did it say about her ability to handle the pressure of the job if she couldn’t control her own body after spending five minutes naked with a woman who hadn’t touched her and barely glanced at her?

“All it means is she turned you on something wicked. Not something you want her to know,” Jac muttered. She rubbed her hand up and down the center of her stomach, trying to coax some of the tension out of her belly. It didn’t help. Her hips flexed of their own accord, and her clitoris pulsed, sending a silent request for a little relief. “Damn it.”

“Oh hey, sorry! Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Jac sucked in a breath and looked over her shoulder. A cute blonde, maybe ten years older, stood with a bar of soap in one hand and a towel slung over her shoulder. She was naked, toned, and smiling with a little bit of a question in her eyes. Jac hoped the sound of the water had drowned out her talking to herself.

“No problem.”

“I just drove in from New Mexico, eighteen hours straight in the car. I really need to wash off the road, and my place in town isn’t ready yet. Mind if I join you?”

Jac smothered a smile. Must be her day to be surrounded by naked women. Thankfully, her clitoris chose that moment to hibernate. “No problem.”

The blonde hung her towel on a peg, turned on the adjacent showerhead, and stepped under the water with a gratified groan. “Oh my God, that feels good. I’m Sarah, by the way.”

Keeping eyes up, Jac pumped some shampoo into her palm from the receptacle fixed to the white-tiled wall and lathered her hair. “Jac Russo.”

“You must be one of the rookies,” Sarah said. “I didn’t know we were getting a woman. That’s cool.”

“I was a last-minute addition,” Jac said.

“Mallory have you out on the trail already today?”

“Oh yeah, bright and early.”

Sarah laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Everybody make the cut?”

“So far. We got an injury, though.” Jac turned to rinse her hair.

“Oh hell. What happened?” Sarah’s smile disappeared, alarm flashing through her eyes and just as quickly extinguished.