Radclyffe - Firestorm

Chapter Twelve

Mallory’s heart beat so rapidly she was actually embarrassed by how eagerly she awaited a simple cup of coffee. Except it wasn’t the anticipation of morning coffee making her pulse race. It wasn’t the fun of winning a silly bet either. She was jittery waiting for Jac to climb into the loft, bringing with her that blazing smile and hot gaze. Mallory remembered stretching the kinks out of her back after the card game and the way Jac’s gaze had dropped to her breasts and stayed there. Jac’s expression had gotten fierce, and oh, but Mallory liked that. She liked knowing Jac liked the way she looked. And that was so not her. Half the time when she went into town on her nights off she did little more than jump in the shower, pull on clean clothes—the same clothes she would have worn going to work—and tame her hair with an unadorned band. Now she was practically purring because Jac Russo had cruised her with a hungry glint in her eye. And the longer she lay there waiting for Jac to come back and smile at her again, the more her brains were going to leak out of her ears.

Mallory yanked down the zipper on the side of her sleeping bag, threw it open, and swung her legs over the side of the cot. She’d slept in a T-shirt and panties, and her skin instantly pebbled in the cold air. Just as she was about to pluck her jeans from the floor, she heard activity on the ladder. Quickly, she slid her legs back into her sleeping bag and flipped the top flap down over her bare legs. Jac appeared, balancing a cardboard carrier in one hand and sporting that damn heart-stopping grin.

“Good morning.” Jac presented the coffee cups in their cardboard holder as if they were flutes of champagne. “Would madam care for something to drink?”

“The gin rummy queen wants her coffee, you idiot.” Mallory pried the cup closest to her free.

Jac set down the tray along with her cup of coffee and pulled a bran muffin wrapped in clear plastic wrap out of the right pocket of her cargo pants. Brandishing it with a flourish, she said, “Muffin, milady?”

“Will you stop.” Mallory grabbed the muffin, her fingers tracing the top of Jac’s hand. She couldn’t see the sparks fly, but she felt them to her toes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jac reached down for her coffee. “Hope I added enough cream.”

Her voice was soft, free of any laughter, and the unusual, slightly uncertain note struck a chord in Mallory’s heart. “This is nice. Thanks.”

Jac looked up from her half crouch, her mouth gently curved into an incredibly kissable smile. “You’re welcome again. I liked doing it.”

“Where’s your muffin?” Mallory asked, knowing she couldn’t possibly swallow now. Not while her body thrummed with hunger all its own—a terrible ache no food was going to satisfy. If she hadn’t been half-naked, she would have bolted.

“I could only fit one in my pocket.”

Mallory patted the bottom of her sleeping bag. “Sit down. I’ll share this one with you.”

Jac’s gaze went to the bottom of the narrow cot, then to Mallory. “All right.”

Mallory pulled her knees up as Jac sat down, and her feet ended up resting against Jac’s thigh. Even with the sleeping bag between them, when Jac shifted to face her, the muscles in Jac’s thighs tensed, and Mallory had the urge to dig her toes into the firm flesh. She had the urge to do a lot more than that. She wanted Jac inside the sleeping bag with her, her hard body pressed close, her hands chasing the cold away. Mallory clenched inside and got very, very wet. Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. Mallory broke off a chunk of the muffin and half sat up, extending the moist morsel on the tips of her fingers toward Jac’s mouth. “Here. Have a bite.”

Jac leaned closer, sliding one arm onto the cot next to Mallory’s hips. Her chest pressed against Mallory’s knees. Jac looked into Mallory’s eyes and opened her mouth. “Sure?”

“I trust you not to bite,” Mallory said, her voice an octave lower than normal.

“Really?” Jac’s tongue swept over Mallory’s fingers, and her lips closed around the small piece of muffin.

Mallory’s clitoris swelled and her breasts ached and what was left of her senses dissolved like mist before the dawn. “Good?”

“Very good.” Jac’s tongue slid across her lower lip, catching a tiny flake of bran, and she nodded. “You should try some.”

Mallory stifled a whimper. She’d never orgasmed without direct stimulation in her life, but she was close now. She couldn’t let that happen. Even if she could hide it, and she didn’t think she could, she couldn’t bear the humiliation. “Jac, I don’t think—”

“You said you trusted me.” Without looking away from Mallory’s face, Jac slid her fingers down Mallory’s arm to the muffin Mallory cradled in her palm and broke off a piece. She held the fragment up to Mallory’s mouth. “Taste it. You’ll like it.”

Mallory sucked the muffin from between Jac’s fingers. She chewed and swallowed without tasting it, watching Jac’s pupils flicker and dance, then licked the traces of butter from the tips of Jac’s fingers. “Good.”

“Yeah,” Jac whispered, letting her fingers linger for a second against Mallory’s mouth. She was crazy to touch her at all, but if she didn’t do something, she was going to explode. Mallory looked so damn beautiful with her hair all wild and her face so unguarded. Mallory was different when they were alone—still wary, like a wild animal uncertain of a human hand, but still approaching. Cautious, but edging nearer. Jac didn’t want to scare her away. She traced her thumb over Mallory’s lower lip. Mallory’s soft breath was hot in the chill air, her lips moist and a little swollen. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Mmm. Yeah, I do.”

Jac eased away until she was no longer touching her. Mallory’s eyes had gotten hazy, and Jac was pretty sure if she kissed her right now, Mallory would kiss her back. And probably never do it again. “Now I need to go.”

“What?” Mallory murmured. “Why?”

“I’d be happy for you to feed me all day, but you should finish your coffee. Oh six hundred is coming on fast.”

“I know,” Mallory whispered. “I need to get going.”

“Yes.”

Neither of them moved.

“Jac?”

“What?” Jac said softly.

“I can’t get up while you’re sitting on my sleeping bag.”

Jac smiled. “That’s a problem, then, I guess.”

“It is, because I don’t wan—”

A klaxon blared, the blast so loud, Jac’s ears ached. Incoming. God. She bolted off the cot and spun around, reaching for something that wasn’t there. Where was her weapon? “Mallory, stay there!”

“Jac, it’s the fire call.” Mallory threw back the sleeping bag and jumped up. “It’s okay, but I’ve got to go.”

Jac blinked and she was back. Hell, she’d blown it, but she couldn’t worry about that now. “Where?”

Mallory jerked up her jeans and shoved her bare feet into her boots. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll get the information in the air.”

“Is there something I should do—”

“No.” Mallory hesitated. “I’ll see you when I get back, Russo. You’ve still got the training course to pass.”

“Right.” Jac’s chest ached. Mallory was heading out to fight a wildfire, and she was staying behind. “Be careful, huh, Ice?”

“Always.” Mallory ran for the ladder, vaulted over the edge, and was gone.

*

Downstairs, the hangar was controlled pandemonium.

“Five minutes, Benny,” Mallory called as she raced by to collect her gear.

Benny waved and climbed into the plane. Caruso, one of the permanent crew, pulled the blocks out from in front of the wheels so the plane could taxi out.