Radclyffe - Firestorm

“Oh, that’s lame.” Jac scooped up the cards to deal. “An excuse beneath one as talented as you.”

Mallory laughed. God, Jac was charm personified. “Go ahead and deal.”

“Two out of three?” Jac asked.

Mallory got up, pulled two Cokes out of her tiny fridge in the corner, and set them down on her desk, one for each of them. “Best four out of seven. Be prepared to be humiliated.”

“And the winner?” Jac asked, her voice dropping low. “What does the winner get, Mal?”

A kiss was Mallory’s first thought, and she hoped to blazes Jac could not read her face in the dim light. “Coffee.”

Jac frowned. “Explain.”

“In bed. The winner gets coffee delivered in bed.” Mallory picked up her cards and stifled a smile. She was so looking forward to her morning coffee, delivered while she was still warm in her sleeping bag.

*

“It’s almost two,” Jac said.

“I don’t think you want to quit now,” Mallory said with just a hint of malicious delight in her voice. “Do you?”

Jac had been keeping score in her head. She knew the outcome. Ordinarily, she hated losing at anything. In the service, if she’d lost, she would have been dead. Tonight she’d been playing to win, and as far as she was concerned, she had. The score at gin wasn’t what counted for her. “How do you like your coffee?”

Mallory folded her arms behind her head and leaned back in her chair, swiveling back and forth, looking supremely satisfied. She also looked totally hot. Sometime during the last game, she’d removed her sweatshirt, and her navy T-shirt clung tightly to her breasts as she stretched. She was the perfect combination of strength and beauty, and Jac’s throat tightened. She could so easily see herself bracing her hands on the arms of Mallory’s captain’s chair and leaning over her, kissing her as she straddled Mallory’s thighs. She could almost feel their breasts brushing. She pushed the packing crate back a few inches from the desk and stood, needing to move out of touching range before she did. Bad move on so many levels. Mallory hadn’t given her the slightest indication she was interested, and even if she had been that lucky, there was the little problem of Mallory being in charge at the moment. Operative words, at the moment. Mallory would always be senior, but she wouldn’t always be her boss. If she made it through the month, they’d be colleagues. Jac rubbed her stomach, and the muscles jumped under her fingers. Damn it, she was way too turned on. “So, the coffee?”

“A touch of cream. No sugar.” Mallory sighed. “I guess we’d better pack it in. I’ve got training sessions to run tomorrow and you”—she pointed at Jac—“you have a course to pass.”

Jac swept up the cards and slid them into their box, aware of Mallory watching her. She liked it when Mallory watched her. Right now she liked it so much her nipples were hard. “What time?”

“What time, what?” Mallory asked, just a hint of teasing in her voice.

“Coffee. What time tomorrow?”

“Oh five thirty. In plenty of time for me to enjoy it before I take a shower and have breakfast and start you rookies on your way.”

“All right. You’ll have it.” Jac hesitated. As much as she wanted to escape, she didn’t want their moment alone to end. Being with Mallory was easy—easy and comfortable, and that was odd. She’d spent plenty of casual time with women, but that was usually time spent over a few drinks in a bar or a few hours in bed. There hadn’t even been much of that since she’d been home. But the past few hours with Mallory were different—their conversation had been real, as if what they were saying mattered. Like she mattered. Talking to Mallory had warmed her inside, surprising and wonderful, like receiving an unexpected kindness from a stranger.

“I guess I’ll head up,” Jac said, her voice husky.

Mallory rose, and she was suddenly very, very close to Jac. “I’m going to hit the head first. You go on.”

They were almost exactly the same height, and Mallory’s mouth was only a few inches away. Jac swallowed hard. Mallory’s lips were moist, her breath spicy and sweet. Jac wanted to taste her. Taste her kisses. Taste her skin. Taste her everywhere. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sleep well,” Mallory said and then abruptly turned and disappeared.

Jac climbed back into the loft, a heavy thud of arousal beating between her thighs. She crawled into her sleeping bag, aware for the first time that the huge, nearly empty building was cold. She hadn’t been cold sitting close to Mallory, talking, laughing, trading jibes. Her skin was chilled now, but she was burning on the inside. She lay awake, and a few minutes later Mallory climbed quietly up the ladder. Moonlight filtering through a small diamond-shaped window high above them, just under the dome of the hangar, provided the only illumination. Mallory’s face was ghostly pale, and she might’ve been an apparition visiting Jac’s dreams—except she wasn’t. She was real. Alive and warm, and Jac wanted her.

Mallory kicked off her boots, and when her hands went to the waistband of her pants, Jac turned on her side, facing away. Mallory probably wouldn’t care if she saw her undressing, but she would care. She wouldn’t violate Mallory’s privacy that way.

She prayed for sleep, but it was a long time coming.

*

When Jac opened her eyes she wasn’t even certain she’d been asleep. The loft was still cloaked in darkness, the chill of the not-yet-summer night having settled into the building, into her bones. She propped her head on her elbow and gazed across the space between their cots. Mallory slept on her back, one arm outside her sleeping bag, her fingers gently curled. Her face was soft, her regular breathing gentle and comforting. Jac turned her wrist back and forth until she caught a sliver of moonlight and checked the time. 0520. Smiling to herself, she carefully unzipped her bag, trying to be quiet. Soon she’d have the perfect excuse to wake Mallory. To enjoy a few more moments of stolen time with her. She climbed out of her bag and grabbed her boots and clothes to dress downstairs where she wouldn’t wake Mallory.

Outside, the stars had not yet yielded to the rising sun, and the air was so crisp Jac’s breath crystallized with each exhalation. She hustled across the yard to the mess hall. Charlie hadn’t opened the chow line yet, and a couple of guys waited at tables, hunkered down over cups of coffee. The huge urn never seemed to be empty, the rule being when someone drank the last cup they made a new pot. Hopefully, the coffee was fresh. Jac wanted Mallory’s coffee to be perfect. Laughing to herself, she poured two extra-large paper cups and added cream to both. She was looking for tops when Sarah walked up.

“Morning,” Sarah said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Great. Thanks.” Jac fixed the lids on both cups.

“You look like you’re preparing for a long day,” Sarah said, indicating the two cups with her chin as she poured one of her own.

“Oh. One of these is for Mal.”

Sarah’s lips parted and she let out a soft breath. “Really? Wow. She’s got you running errands for her now?”

“Not exactly. I lost a bet.”

“And payment is coffee?”

“Hand delivered. In bed.”

Sarah sputtered on the coffee she was sipping.

“It’s not as exciting as it sounds,” Jac said.

“I don’t know, it sounds pretty damn exciting to me.”

“I better go. Not much time before we have to muster.”

“Go ahead. Don’t keep her waiting.” Sarah shook her head. “She’ll get grouchy without coffee first thing.”

“See you,” Jac said, wondering just how many times Sarah had seen Mallory first thing in the morning. Telling herself there was no cause for jealousy, and almost being convinced.