Radclyffe - Firestorm

“Don’t get lost out there, Russo.” Mallory didn’t want to let Jac out of her sight, and that crazy reaction propelled her through the automatic doors and down the hallway to the brightly lit nurses’ station like her butt was ablaze. The ravenous look in Jac’s eyes shimmered through her despite the distance she put between them. What was she doing, flirting with her like that? But she knew, oh, she knew. She liked putting that hungry look in Jac’s eyes, liked the way Jac’s breath hitched when she teased her, liked the pressure that surged between her thighs when Jac took her hand. Maybe—maybe there was some safe halfway point. She’d never had any trouble separating her feelings from her physical pleasures before. She certainly cared about Emily, enjoyed her company in and out of bed. Why not with Jac? Not until after boot camp, when there couldn’t be any doubt the boundaries were nice and clean, but maybe then. Maybe then she could ease this terrible ache she had for her. Maybe.

*

The doors swung closed and Jac was alone. She looked at her fingers, half expecting to see sparks shooting from her fingertips. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and under the collar of her shirt, but she shivered as if icy fingers trailed across her bare skin. She throbbed. Damn it. This was bad.

She knew how to get her body into the zone where her emotions had no impact. Breathing slowly through her nose, she filled her lungs, expanded her diaphragm, centered herself the way she did when she prepared to dismantle a bomb. Dismantling the power Mallory held over her would be a hell of a lot more difficult. Maybe impossible, especially when she welcomed it. But at least she could hide it for a while.

When her legs felt steady again, she skirted around the rows of bolted-together gray plastic chairs to the sign-in window and scribbled her name on the clipboard. A middle-aged woman in a painfully bright green velour top on the other side of the sliding plastic partition leaned forward and scanned the length of Jac’s body.

“You an EMT?” the clerk asked.

“Firefighter.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Banged up my shoulder.”

“Huh.” The clerk swiveled around, muttered something to a nurse who nodded, then swung back around. “Ought to be just a few minutes.”

“Thanks. Is there a cafeteria?”

“Down the hall.”

The clerk went back to her paperwork, and Jac followed the scent of microwaved burritos and burnt coffee beans. The cafeteria was little more than a vending room, but there were several trays piled high with doughnuts and bagels, a row of industrial-sized coffee dispensers, a few baskets of small plastic containers filled with peanut butter and cream cheese, and muffins. After two days of trail mix, protein bars, and dehydrated meals out of foil containers, this spread looked like a banquet. She glanced at the muffins and smiled to herself. She might never be able to eat another muffin unless she was feeding it to Mallory. Mallory. God. She couldn’t stop thinking about her, and the only thing she was accomplishing was to drive herself nuts.

She poured two tall Styrofoam cups of coffee to go, grabbed a cardboard tray along with four bagels and spreads, and paid the cashier. Back in the waiting area, she settled into one of the chairs opposite the silent TV showing a news station and set the supplies next to her. At not quite eight on a Sunday morning, the waiting area was surprisingly crowded. An exhausted-looking young mother with two toddlers and a baby in her arms occupied one corner. A worried-looking older man in a dapper suit sat militarily erect at the end of the last row, his hands on his thighs, his eyes riveted to the closed double doors of the treatment area. Someone very important to him was back there. A young couple in biker jackets and tattered jeans snoozed across from Jac, the girl’s hand resting proprietarily on the bearded guy’s thigh. The casual intimacy struck Jac in a way she’d never experienced before. She thought of Mallory’s hand in hers throughout the night, and her stomach knotted, replacing the hunger pangs with a different kind of need.

The doors opposite her opened, and Mallory came through, scanned the room, and fixed on Jac as if Jac were the only person in the waiting area. Jac’s skin flashed hot. Suddenly the dingy, somewhat desolate room was brighter, the medicinal odor and faint undercurrent of illness faded, and her pulse jumped as if someone had just yelled incoming .

“Hey,” Jac said.

“Oh my God, you’ve got food,” Mallory muttered, dropping into the seat next to her. “You are a prince.”

Jac laughed, trying for casual when she was close to imploding. “Prince? What happened to king? I’d even settle for queen.” She handed Mallory one of the cups of coffee. “A touch of cream. No sugar.”

Mallory reached for a bagel. “What, no muffins?”

Jac choked in mid-swallow, hot coffee searing its way down the center of her chest like molten lava. Mallory made a sympathetic sound and rubbed her back, which didn’t help at all. The press of Mallory’s palm burned through her, and her breasts tightened. When she caught her breath, she said, “I thought I’d save that for a special occasion.”

“If this isn’t one, I don’t know what is.” Mallory massaged Jac’s back in slow circles. “But I don’t mind waiting.”

Jac had never in her life wished so much for time to stand still. She wanted Mallory never to move her hand, never to look at her with anything other than the tenderness in her gaze right now, wanted never to hear Mallory’s voice without the teasing undercurrent of desire. She had no idea how to keep the spell from breaking, and the helplessness made her hands tremble as she spread cream cheese on a bagel with a plastic knife and held it out to Mallory. “Here. Try this for now.”

Mallory grinned, leaned forward, and took a huge bite. She chewed, swallowed, licked her lips. Her fingers trailed down the center of Jac’s back and moved away. “Mmm. Heaven. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Jac’s insides churned and her head swirled. She was hungry, but she wasn’t sure she could handle even a bagel. “Any word on the kids?”

“They took the boy right to CAT scan. The girl is a lot more alert now.” Mallory sipped her coffee, her knee resting against Jac’s. “I think they’ve both got a really good chance.”

“That’s great,” Jac muttered. “A good day’s work, huh?”

“Mmm. Very good,” Mallory said, watching Jac over the rim of her coffee cup with heavy-lidded intensity. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Jac’s blood surged, and every disparate piece of her life—her work, her needs, her desires—coalesced in the heat of Mallory’s gaze. Fuck, she was in deep trouble. “Uh, I think I’ll save it for the drive back.”

“Not a bad idea. That late spring storm is moving south. We might run into it,” Mallory said, “so it could take us longer than I expected. I rented us a Jeep. They’re going to deliver it here. Sarah and Ray will have taken ours back to base—hopefully before the storm hit.”

“The ER should call me back soon. Sorry about the wait.”

“It’s no problem,” Mallory said. “I’ll just work you twice as hard when we get back.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

Mallory laughed, and her laughter warmed Jac all the way through. She was in no hurry to get back, and Mallory didn’t seem to be either. That was strange. She had expected Mallory to be anxious to return to base where she could resurrect the rules and regulations and the distance that came with them. But if Mallory wanted to spend more time with her, she wasn’t going to question why.

“And the best news”—Mallory gathered the tray and dumped it in the nearby trash can—“is the ER docs said we could use their locker room to shower. They know we’ve been out a couple of days. As soon as we get your shoulder seen to, we can get cleaned up.”