Firestorm

Chapter Twenty-seven

“Looks like we have the place to ourselves,” Mallory said when she drove into base a little before six in the morning and pulled up in front of the hangar. A single light glowed over the shack door. All the windows were dark and the land vehicles were gone.

“Guess everyone’s at field camp,” Jac said, trying for a business-as-usual tone. The storm had finally tracked west, giving them clear skies for the final leg of their return trip. There wasn’t even any snow on the ground when they reached Yellowrock.

“At least they aren’t sleeping in snow out there.” Mallory rested her arms over the top of the wheel and rolled her shoulders. “We haven’t missed much—they’ve probably just got camp set up.”

“You’re not going to head right out, are you?” The last hundred miles had taken almost eight hours, and while Mallory drove, Jac had pretended to nap even though she wasn’t sleeping. She was still processing the news about her father, and still reeling from the kiss. She couldn’t quite believe she’d asked to be kissed—nothing could be more not her—or that Mallory had relented and actually touched her. Damn, what a kiss it had been too, just slow enough to bring her blood to a boil and hard enough, possessive enough, to make her hungry for a lot more than the kiss. If they’d been anywhere other than the front seat of the Jeep she wouldn’t have stopped with kisses. She’d been close to not being able to put on the brakes, even though she hadn’t gone all the way in a car since she’d moved out of her parents’ house and gotten her own place. Mallory lit her up like no woman ever had.

Now she was half sorry she hadn’t stopped before the kiss even got started. Knowing how well Mallory teased and taunted with the lazy play of her mouth, how demandingly Mallory’s hands skimmed over her, how good Mallory felt in her arms already made her throb for more, and there couldn’t be a worse time for her to get involved with anyone, especially someone she cared about. Her life was about to turn into a zoo. She’d been through this before—she was going to be on display every bit as much as her high-profile father, only this time she’d have nowhere to hide.

When her father had first run for the senate, she’d been in her late teens and suddenly been catapulted into the public eye. The whole family had been. Her father was no ordinary senatorial candidate, even then. He’d already been highly vocal and highly visible in the conservative Patriot Party—his family money and a great deal of financial and political support behind the scenes had skyrocketed him onto the national scene overnight. Reporters descended like locusts.

She’d been followed by paparazzi, her high school friends and enemies had been interviewed, and more than a few had been willing to talk about her partying and dalliances with other girls. That had been the beginning of her father’s behind-the-scenes campaign to make her conform to the image of the daughter he needed and, barring that, to at the very least make her invisible. Now that he was a presidential candidate, she wouldn’t be able to find a hiding place deep enough or dark enough to avoid the spotlight. And anyone close to her was going to be fair game. She didn’t want to drag Mallory through the kind of scrutiny she’d experienced for the last decade or so, even if Mallory thought she could handle it. “So what’s on the agenda?”

“I’d say we’ve earned a day of rest,” Mallory said. “Sarah and Cooper can handle the training for now. I’ll check in with Sully a little later and tell him we’ll be out tomorrow morning.”

“Okay.” Jac climbed out of the Jeep and dragged her pack with her. She slung it over her good shoulder and leaned down to look back at Mallory. “Do you mind if I grab a shower first?”

“No, go ahead,” Mallory said slowly.

Jac turned away from the questioning look in Mallory’s eyes and headed toward the standby shack. Once she got out into the field, she’d be able to put some space between her and Mallory. Mallory would be busy with the training program, and she’d be busy making sure she passed. She’d come here to work. At least she’d still have that.

Mallory sat behind the wheel, watching Jac stride stiffly across the yard. She could practically feel Jac’s pain rippling on the air and clutched the steering wheel, frustrated and more than a little bit scared.

She’d never seen Jac close down this way, draw in on herself, go so cold and remote. “Ice” would suit Jac now, far more than her. She felt completely defenseless, without her usual shields and barricades. That simple kiss had ripped them all away, and she wasn’t sure she could put them back even if she wanted to. She didn’t think she wanted to. For the first time since she’d carried Phil and Danny’s bodies out of the mountains, she didn’t feel empty inside. She didn’t feel frozen. Jac had done that.

Jac, with her persistent honesty and fiery passion, had thawed the heart of her grief until she’d had no choice but to embrace it, and once she did, the terrible sorrow burned through her and purified her pain. She would never stop grieving, but she didn’t feel paralyzed in an endless loop of unrelenting guilt any longer.

The standby shack door slammed shut with a crack that echoed across the still yard like a gunshot. Jac was gone. Retreating, running away, and since Jac was no coward, Mallory could come up with only one explanation. If Jac pulled back, erected walls, she would do it because she thought Mallory needed protecting from the kind of intrusive scrutiny that had forced Jac to distrust everyone.

“I’m not everyone,” Mallory muttered. Jac spent altogether too much time trying to protect the people around her at her own expense—her mother, her sister, and, whether she acknowledged it or not, her father. In an effort not to compromise her father’s campaign, to spare her sister the kind of embarrassment that most teens would find devastating, and to shield her mother from family strife, Jac had willingly stepped aside. God, she’d even taken herself off to war, where even death didn’t scare her.

“Well, enough of that.” Mallory pocketed the keys, grabbed her gear, and followed Jac.

The shower was already running, and Jac’s clothes were heaped on the end of the bench. Mallory hesitated, took half a second to think rationally, and finally admitted she’d already gone well past the point of logic. She’d kissed Jac. More than once. If she let Jac pull away now, she might as well say none of it had mattered. And she couldn’t.

She stripped before she could panic and eased around the corner into the shower room.

Jac had turned on two showerheads full blast and the room was filled with steam. Jac leaned against the far wall, her arms braced, her head down, her back to Mallory.

Water cascaded in sheets over the bunched muscles in her shoulders and along her spine, breaking up into rivulets running over the rise of her ass and down the backs of her thighs. Jac’s right shoulder was discolored, a purplish bruise spreading down her arm and back, and Mallory wanted to kiss the hurt away. That hurt and every hurt Jac had ever suffered. Mallory’s skin misted with want and her throat closed. She ached to touch her, to trace her fingertips over the crests of Jac’s shoulders, along her arms. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tingled and she wanted to rub herself against Jac’s back. A tiny fragment of her brain still worked, and she cared too much about Jac to take her by surprise.

“Jac,” Mallory murmured, her voice breaking. Jac didn’t move and Mallory’s heart leapt into her throat. She wasn’t sure she could make her legs move enough to turn around and leave, but she would if she had to. She wouldn’t be another person Jac couldn’t trust. She wouldn’t go where she wasn’t wanted, but she couldn’t leave unless she knew for sure Jac wanted to be alone. “Jac, I’m here.”

Slowly, so slowly Mallory thought her heart might stop beating, Jac turned and flung the wet strands of dark hair away from her eyes with a flick of her head. Her tight breasts lifted away from her sculpted chest and the columns of muscles in her abdomen tensed. Her gaze raked down Mallory’s body. “There’s plenty of room.”

“I didn’t come to share the shower,” Mallory said, still not moving.

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No. Yes. Mostly.” Mallory moved closer. “I know right now I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman in my life. I can’t stand not touching you any longer. I can’t stand you going away—”

Jac groaned and pulled Mallory close, forcing their wet bodies together, and swallowed the rest of Mallory’s words with a kiss so hot and so hungry Mallory stopped breathing. Her thighs turned to molasses, and she wrapped her arms around Jac’s waist for support.

“Your shoulder,” Mallory gasped, backing Jac against the shower wall on the far side of the stream of water. She steadied herself with her arms against the wet tile on either side of Jac’s chest and pressed her hips between Jac’s legs. She was so aroused, so swollen, that the little bit of pressure was enough to make her come.

“Shoulder’s better already,” Jac rumbled, sweeping her hands down Mallory’s sides to cup her ass, yanking her even closer. She slid her teeth down Mallory’s throat and sucked lightly in the hollow between her collarbones.

“Be careful,” Mallory whispered, the first tendrils of pleasure unraveling inside her.

“Doesn’t hurt.” Jac kissed lower, over the curve of Mallory’s breast, until she licked the water droplets from Mallory’s nipple. Her tongue was soft, tantalizingly warm.

“Not talking about your shoulder.” Mallory arched, her head fell back, and she climbed another notch closer to the crest. “You’ll make me come.”

Jac laughed and massaged Mallory’s ass. “Damn right I will. But not just yet.”

“I don’t think,” Mallory gasped, shifting to straddle Jac’s thigh, “that’s up to you.”

“You feel so good. So wet, hot. Not rushing.” Jac’s breath came faster. She cradled Mallory’s breast in one hand and stroked down the center of Mallory’s stomach with the other, feathering her fingertips just above her clitoris.

“Oh God, touch me.” Mallory couldn’t stop her hips from rocking, couldn’t stand up much longer. She dropped her forehead to Jac’s shoulder and pushed herself harder into Jac’s hand. “Please, I need you. I need you now. There. Right there.”

“Soon.” Jac spun Mallory around until Mallory’s back was against Jac’s chest and her ass cushioned in the curve of Jac’s pelvis. Mallory moaned, protesting, feeling the absence of Jac’s heat against the front of her body like a missing part. And then Jac’s hands were caressing the curves of her breasts, cupping them in her palms, dancing her fingertips down Mallory’s belly. Making her tremble. Making her crazy.

“Please.” Mallory grasped Jac’s wrist and pushed her hand lower, guiding Jac’s fingers between her legs. “Feel what you’ve done.”

“So, so wet.” Jac stroked lightly along her length and buried her face in the curve of Mallory’s neck. “You’re so beautiful,” Jac whispered. “I love the way you feel.”

Mallory covered Jac’s hand and pressed Jac’s fingertips inside her. “Fill me up. I need to have you everywhere, inside me, deep. Now, Jac.”

Jac’s arm tightened around Mallory’s torso, and her fingers closed over Mallory’s nipple. “I want to make you come.”

“I’m so close,” Mallory moaned, turning her face into Jac’s neck. She kissed her throat, dug her fingers into Jac’s wrist, urged Jac deeper inside. She felt Jac tremble, heard her groan, and Jac’s excitement pushed her over. She cried out, closing down hard on Jac’s fingers. “I’m coming.”

Jac thrust against Mallory’s ass, coating Mallory with her desire. “Ohh fuuck. Me too.”

Mallory closed her eyes, abandoning reason and logic and caution as she burned in Jac’s flames.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” Mallory sighed when the waves of fire receded. She was on the floor between Jac’s raised knees, still cradled in Jac’s arms, her cheek resting on Jac’s shoulder. Jac sat with her head tilted back against the shower wall, her eyes closed, her neck and chest suffused with the incendiary flush of passion. Mallory loved knowing she had reduced Jac to exhaustion. She licked Jac’s neck. “Mmm good?”

Jac laughed. “No. Terrible. Can’t imagine why I want to do it again right now.”

“Do you?” Mallory shifted and stroked Jac’s chest, toying with Jac’s small, hard nipples. She kept it up until Jac’s breasts were rosy and Jac was breathing hard. “It’s a big hot water tank, but we’re going to run out soon.”

Jac cracked one eye open. “Think we can make it to the loft for round two?”

“If you move your hand.”

“I like being inside you.”

Mallory groaned and tightened inside again. “God. I don’t want to move. I don’t want you to move. But I think we probably ought to.”

“In a minute.” Jac kissed her again, a slow, languorous exploratory kiss as possessive as it was celebratory. While she teased and taunted and sucked and licked, she eased her fingers from between Mallory’s legs.

“I love the way you make me feel,” Mallory whispered.

Jac kissed her again. “Yeah. I know. You okay?”

Mallory summoned her energy and got up onto her knees, resting both hands on Jac’s shoulders. “I know it sounds corny, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt better.”

Jac brushed her cheek against Mallory’s breasts and kissed her. “It sounds just great to me.”

Mallory rose, held out her hand, and helped Jac up. “We better go. I think I’m getting ready for the next round. Stop touching me for a minute while I wash my hair.”

Laughing, Jac held up both hands and moved a few inches away. “Sure?”

“No.” Mallory put her hand in the center of Jac’s chest and pushed lightly, forcing her back another step. “Rinse off and go away. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jac snuck in for another kiss, then jumped back out of range. “Okay. But I’m counting. One minute.”

Smiling, Mallory turned her back and reached for the shampoo. If she kept looking at Jac she was going to have to touch her again, and they’d never get out of the locker room.

*

Mallory found Jac standing motionless in the middle of the locker room, a wet towel dangling from her hand, staring into her locker.

“Jac?” Mallory asked, tightening the knot holding the towel around her breasts. “What’s wrong?”

Jac slammed her locker door. “Nothing.”

“Do you think by now I can’t tell bullshit when I hear it?” Mallory skirted around the bench, grasped Jac’s arm, and turned Jac to face her. Jac was pale, the dark shadows beneath her eyes carved deeper by the flat fluorescent ceiling light. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.” Jac jerked away, flinching when she pulled her shoulder back.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Mallory dropped her hands. “But I’m not letting you get away with this silent treatment, Jac. I don’t need your protection. And I’m not afraid of anything that has to do with you.” She softened her voice, knowing she sounded like she was on the attack. Carefully, slowly, she cradled Jac’s jaw and kissed her. A light brush of her lips over Jac’s mouth, just enough to feel her. So Jac would know she wasn’t going away. “You touched me and I don’t want you to stop.”

Jac shuddered and her lids slowly closed. Emboldened, Mallory stepped closer, sliding her other arm around Jac’s waist, drawing her near until their bodies connected everywhere. She kissed her again, sliding her lips over Jac’s, feeling her heat, tasting her. She murmured against Jac’s mouth, “I’m not afraid.”

Jac heard the strength in Mallory’s voice, felt the certainty in her touch. She needed that—that solid, unwavering certainty. She gripped Mallory’s hips, teased her tongue over Mallory’s mouth. She needed her. Needed her close. Needed not to push her away, or to run away. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me, baby,” Mallory whispered. She framed Jac’s face. Kissed her. “Trust me.”

“I’ve only ever gone it alone,” Jac murmured. “No matter what—it was always just me. One-on-one with whatever bomb lay in my path. I never had a partner.” She pressed closer, needing Mallory’s fire to melt the frozen wasteland of her isolation. “You have no idea what my father is capable of.”

Mallory threaded her fingers through Jac’s hair and kissed her mouth, the angle of her jaw, the spot below her ear that made Jac tremble. “I know I don’t. But none of this is about your father. Only us.”

“Not for much longer,” Jac said. She forced her fingers to relax their death grip on Mallory’s hips and backed away. She unlocked her locker and swung open the door. She didn’t want to look at the photograph taped inside, but pretending it wasn’t there wouldn’t help. Behind her, she heard Mallory gasp. The image was grainy, but it was easy to see her and Mallory about to kiss.