Radclyffe - Firestorm

Jac covered Mallory’s hands with hers. “I’m sure hoping not, but I don’t think one of those cots will hold both of us.”

“Neither do I.” Mallory turned Jac in her arms and clasped Jac’s butt, rocking her pelvis against Jac’s. She watched Jac’s eyes darken, loving the effect she had on her. “You could consider today the first day of the final field training. We’ll rough it and put the sleeping bags on the floor.”

“Roughing it, huh?” Thinking she could sleep on a rock pile if Mallory was next to her, Jac dipped her head to nibble at Mallory’s neck. She licked her way up to the tender spot beneath Mallory’s ear, teasing with her teeth until Mallory moaned. Mallory’s sharp intake of breath struck Jac in the pit of her stomach like a hammer blow. Her legs got weak, and her heart thundered like she’d just finished running the obstacle course with a full pack. “I can’t touch you without getting hot, Mal. I’m so wrecked.”

Mallory gripped Jac’s hips and pushed away from her with a satisfied grin. “Is that right?”

Mute, Jac just nodded, her pulse beating a crazy tattoo in her head, her chest, between her legs.

“I think I can take care of that,” Mallory whispered. “Don’t move.” She reached behind her, grabbed her sleeping bag off the foot of her cot, and tossed it onto the floor. She bent and quickly opened it, pulled Jac’s bag down and layered it over hers, and folded back the top to expose the soft flannel lining. “There.” Mallory swiveled on her knees in front of Jac and put her hands on either side of Jac’s fly. When she looked up, her lips parted as if she were very, very hungry.

“Mallory, come on,” Jac muttered, her hips lifting all on their own. She steadied herself with her fingertips on Mallory’s shoulders, looking down into Mallory’s sparkling, triumphant eyes.

“What? Huh?” Mallory said with a teasing lilt as she popped the button on Jac’s waistband. She unzipped Jac’s fly, her gaze never leaving Jac’s face.

“I’m naked under there,” Jac warned, her voice thick and husky.

“Oh, I know.” Mallory grabbed the material over Jac’s hipbones and tugged her pants down, shoving them to the tops of Jac’s boots so she had enough room to spread her legs.

The top of Jac’s head threatened to blow off. She was wet, hard, and ready. “If you stop now I’m going to cry.”

Mallory kissed Jac’s stomach and rubbed her cheek over the base of Jac’s belly. She clasped Jac’s ass in both hands and squeezed, pulling Jac harder against her face. “Have a little faith,” Mallory whispered against Jac’s skin.

“Mal,” Jac groaned. “I really need you to make me come.”

Mallory licked a line from Jac’s belly button down to the triangle between her thighs. Jac’s thighs rippled and her knees bent. Mallory held her tighter and licked her again. “Don’t come right away.”

“I’m not gonna be able to help it.”

Mallory tilted her head back and shot Jac a boss look. “I know you’ve got better control than that, Russo.”

Dazed, a little desperate, afraid she might come the instant Mallory touched her, Jac shook her head. “I don’t. I don’t. Damn it, you’re killing me.”

Mallory laughed. “Oh no, I’m not. I’m going to make you feel so good.” She framed Jac’s sex with both hands and opened her with her thumbs. She moaned, a hungry moan of approval, and kissed Jac exactly where she needed it.

“God,” Jac gasped, tilting her hips, pushing against Mallory’s mouth. “Do that again and I’ll come.”

“Go ahead,” Mallory murmured, her lips moving against Jac’s center. “I really want you to come in my mouth.”

Jac’s vision went fuzzy. The little bit of pressure from Mallory’s lips passing over her tense clitoris was so exquisite, so perfect, she started to hum inside. “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Mmm-hmm. So you said.” Mallory sucked her, softly, slowly, and then leaned back, rubbing her hands fitfully up and down Jac’s thighs. Her lips were swollen and flushed. “You’re so beautiful. You taste so good I don’t want you to come yet. I want you just like this forever.”

“I can’t, Mal,” Jac groaned. “Just let me come, then you can do anything you want.”

Mallory slid her thumbs up the insides of Jac’s thighs and parted her again. “I’ll remember you said that.”

Mallory’s mouth closed over her, firm and sure and hot, and Jac grabbed Mallory’s head. She worked herself into Mallory’s mouth, her knees going loose and her ass tightening. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, Mal, I’m coming.”

Mallory took her, all of her, in deep and didn’t stop until Jac ceased pumping between her lips. Mallory looked up, her expression soft and sated. “Lie down with me.”

Jac stumbled the few feet to the sleeping bag and collapsed as Mallory crawled over beside her. Jac kicked off her pants and boots, wrapped Mallory in her arms, and kissed her. She wanted Mallory, needed her, in ways that should have scared the hell out of her, but all she wanted to do was shout like a crazy person, she was so damn happy. She’d just been demolished by a woman and she’d never felt stronger. The chains of caution fell away and the words burst out. “I love you, Mallory.”

Mallory stiffened.

“I know you probably think it’s just the great sex talking,” Jac said quickly, “but it—”

“I don’t think that.” Mallory stroked Jac’s hair, then cupped the curve of Jac’s hip. Pressed tight against her. “But I don’t know if I want you to.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jac kissed her forehead. “But it’s one of those things, like trust. You don’t get to decide.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” Mallory said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Loving you feels good, Mal. Don’t ask me not to.”

“God, I can’t.” Mallory buried her face in Jac’s neck. “Maybe I should tell you not to, but I can’t.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Jac surfaced from oblivion to someone shaking her shoulder. Grunting, she tried to pull away but stopped resisting when her brain registered the faint current of honeysuckle wrapping around her senses. The next instant she remembered everything. Mallory’s body, warm and pliant beneath her hands, Mallory’s head thrown back in abandon. Mallory’s mouth on her, taking her in ways she’d never been taken before. Her hips jumped and she groaned. “Mallory?”

Beside her, Mallory sat up quickly. “We’ve got company.”

“What?” Jac’s eyes flew open. Judging by the slanting rays of the sun coming through the window high up on the wall, it was only late morning. They’d been asleep two or three hours at the most. “Benny maybe?”

“Not unless he’s wearing high heels,” Mallory muttered.

Jac heard it then, the rapid-fire strike of heels on cement, and her stomach sank. She knew that rhythm. “Fuck.”

“Jac?” Mallory searched around inside the sleeping bag, found her sweatpants, and lifted her hips to pull them on, still lying flat on her back. “What’s going on?”

“Stay there.” Jac jumped up naked and looked around for her clothes. She’d chucked everything far and wide when she’d taken them off. Just as she spied her jeans, she heard the scrape of shoe-leather on steel. Their company had arrived. She spun toward the edge of the loft, and a familiar coiffed blond head appeared followed by a long, sensuous body sheathed in a tailored plum Prada silk suit. The skirt came to just above Nora Fleming’s knees, showcasing her shapely expanse of calf below. The suit jacket was buttoned over a low-cut ivory camisole, exposing a hint of pale creamy cleavage. Sexy without being blatantly suggestive. Nora stopped, sedately deposited her soft calfskin briefcase on the floor next to her lethally thin spiked black heels, and coolly appraised Jac. “You haven’t been answering your phone.”