Burns So Bad (Smoke Jumpers) (18 page)

“I grew up rough.”

The woods were too dark to see her
face clearly. She didn’t shove away or act surprised, so the Strong grapevine
had probably done its job. He didn’t want her sympathy. He wasn’t that
on-the-skids boy anymore.

She rested her head against his
chest, her fingers pressed against his heart. He breathed in and she smelled
just as good as she had that first afternoon in her truck. Sweet
and citrus and something that was simply, wonderfully Gia.

“Uncle Sam, huh?”

Her fingers traced a circle over
his shirt.

“Nonna gave me my second chance.
Uncle Sam was my third.”

“Did you need it?” She tilted her
head back against his shoulder, looking up at him.

“What?”

“After you moved to Strong, did you
screw up? Did you need that third chance?”

He shook his head. “I had a hell of
a lot to make up for. I wasn’t an angel and I got up to plenty before Strong.”

“You were a child.”

“I knew better.” Some rules were
black and white. He’d fucked up, so he’d paid back. No matter how desperate or
well-intentioned or just plain stupid he’d been, he’d broken those rules. He’d
stolen stuff. He’d run, both his mouth and his legs. He didn’t like that kid
and he sure as hell wouldn’t be him now. “And you think too much.” He rolled her beneath him. Apparently
they really were alone out here.

“So make me stop, Rio.” She stared
up at him with eyes full of feminine challenge. “You want me to shut up and
stop thinking, then you do something about it. Tell me what you want from me.
Show me
.”

The
knowing smile curling her lips was pure trouble.

“You’re
playing with fire, baby,” he growled and drew her towards him.

###

Oh, she was.

She definitely, definitely was.

It had been far too long since
she’d had her way with Rio in her truck and she’d missed this. His face was
fierce, his eyes intent on hers as he closed his hands around her shoulders and
tugged. She toppled into him willingly. It was like facing down the best kind
of predator. He was beautiful, although she’d bet he’d cut off a leg rather
than use that word. Guys were funny that way.

She looked at him or he looked at
her. That was all it took. She forgot about arguing or worrying about who was
in charge. Because, if she was being honest, her body was. The zing of heat
looking at him generated low in her belly exploded into a wildfire of lust as
soon as he had her body pressed up against his. Full-body contact, oh the sweet
perfection. Her thighs rubbed against his hard, Nomex-clad ones and her nipples
did a little happy-to-see-you thing of their own when she landed against his
chest.

Then he kissed her and her brain shut
down, her body coming alive as he slanted his mouth over hers in a
take-no-prisoners action.
Please don’t
let him stop
. He groaned, a harsh, masculine sound.
Good sign
.

She slid her hands up his back,
tracing the muscles through the cotton, enjoying the smooth bunch and release
as he lowered himself onto her. Her hips cradled his, her legs wrapped around
his ass and his penis tucked against her mound. She rocked appreciatively and
he groaned.

“Gia.” That was all. One harsh,
desperate word as he lifted his mouth from hers.

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t done
with him yet.

“Come back.” She pulled at his
shoulders, making her point. Placing him where she wanted him. “Right here.”

He groaned, but he did as she said.
Perfect
. Rio Donovan taking orders was
the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Was that how he felt, when he gave orders
and she followed? If so, damn… she needed to rethink her no-taking-orders policy.
Starting now.

He came down on top of her and that
was good too. If she opened her eyes, his face and shoulders filled up her
vision. Otherwise, it was just the night sky, the stars, and the two of them.

He distracted her by kissing her,
his mouth moving over hers until all she saw was him.

Eventually, he lifted his head.

“Is
that what you wanted?”

It was a start.

“What happens if I say no?”

She loved how his eyes darkened
with passion. “Then I’d have to try something else. Like this.”

He slid his hands beneath the hem
of her T-shirt and pushed up until he was cupping her cotton-covered breast. She
wasn’t a peek-a-boo lace kind of girl and a forest fire was no place for La
Perla but she wished… she wished she could knock his socks off. Be more than a
one night quickie in the woods. When she and Rio walked away from each other at
the end of the summer, she wanted him to remember her.

“Gia?”

He stroked a thumb over her nipple
and she arched into his touch.

“I think you like this.” The rough
satisfaction in his voice just made her wetter, because there was no missing
that the raw hunger on his face. For her. She might not be sporting satin and
lace, but he was
looking
and she was
pretty certain he liked what he saw. He looked at her like she was an all-you-can-eat
buffet and he was a starving man.

Her own hands get busy beneath his
shirt, skimming up his chest. The man had fantastic abs. She shoved the cotton
up and he laughed, the warm, low sound that she loved.

“You’re greedy.” He didn’t sound
like he minded. Instead, he leaned up so all those delicious ridges bunch and
tighten. Yep. Definitely a lucky woman tonight.

“Equal opportunity. Off,” she
demanded, tugging, and he pulled the shirt over his head in one, smooth move.
Holy. Smokes.

“My turn.” She wriggled and he
pulled, and then he had her pants and panties off, carefully working the fabric
over her ankle.

He tucked them inside his sleeping
bag. “You can have them back tomorrow.”

Again.
So
on board with that plan.

She shifted, landing on a stick and
mumbled. He must have heard, because he rolled and pulled her on top of him.
Ooh. Cowgirl style.

“Ride ‘em, cowboy.” She grinned
down at him.

She expected him to pull her down
on him—his erection was nudging her in all the best spots and damned if
she wasn’t ready—but instead he pulled her forward. To her eternal
embarrassment, she shrieked.

“Shhh,” he whispers against her
folds. “We’re figuring out what you like here.”

Off-balance,
she slapped her hands on the ground on either side of his head and tried to
find her footing. Something to hang on to. Anything. Thank God it was dark
because he could see
everything
.
She’d been out in the woods fighting fire, for God’s sake. She certainly hadn’t
planned for this.

“You’re beautiful.” Two words that
meant so much. “Absolutely perfect,” he promised.

So. Okay.

She relaxed just a little, letting his
hands cup and hold her ass. Then he leaned up and licked her.
Holy. Jesus.
He did it again and she
forgot all about the embarrassment, losing herself in the sweet, hot pleasure
spearing through her.

“Gia?” She felt his question right
there, where the sensation coiled and she was so, so close to coming apart.
“You definitely like this.”

“If you stop,” she said, her voice
rough and husky, “I’m going to kill you. Just saying.”

He laughed. “You’re in charge.”

“Tell me you have a condom.”

He grinned. “Part of every good
survival kit, although I was hoping to use it for something other than carrying
water. If you’ll let me.”

“You bet.” She leaned into him and he
kissed her again, his tongue exploring her folds in the most delicious way and
she didn’t care. When he had her right on the edge, whimpering and hollering,
he slid her down his body and kept right on going. There was a brief pause
while he rolled on a condom but she didn’t mind because his fingers were busy
stroking her.

“Fast or slow?” he growled and,
God, both ways worked for her.

The broad tip of him pushed against
her entrance and she made up her mind. “Fast,” she growled right back, sinking
down onto him. Curling her fingers into his shoulder and hanging on because the
orgasm train was speeding her way, the sweet, tight pressure taking her closer
and closer to that edge of no return until she barreled over and he followed
her.

###

“Shit.” Rio
pulled back, lifting Gia off him.

She blinked up at him. “That move’s guaranteed to
not
win a girl’s heart.”

She got the message that they were done though, sitting up
and crossing her arms over her chest. Plus, she got the cutest pouty expression
on her face, like she’d been denied a treat she really, really wanted.
Him
. That made him want to smile. Fist
pump. Go all caveman and thump his chest, because his prickly, snarky Gia
wanted him and was okay with letting him know. Still, if he hadn’t just caused
a fuck-up of epic proportions, he’d have enjoyed teasing her about that look.

“Condom,” he muttered, because he owed her the truth. “Hell.
The condom broke.”

“Oh.” She chewed her lip and eyed his dick for far too long. Despite
the rude exit and ruder shock of the latex snapping, parts of him were clearly
more than ready to offer her a repeat.

Reaching out, she stroked a finger down the length of him.
“You’re sure?”

Unfortunately, he was.

“The condom broke,” he repeated as he rolled the offender up
and off. He eyed the remnants, but a second look only confirmed what he’d felt
and seen the first time. He had a malfunction of epic proportions.

“Okay.” She curled into him, making his good
intentions—and other parts—harder to keep. Sitting upright like a
medieval virgin all hands-off on her wedding night wasn’t his MO, so he slid an
arm around her and pulled her into his side.

That felt good too. Not as good as being deep inside
her—that was the closest a male like him would ever get to
heaven—but pretty damned fine. He liked holding her.

“Okay?” Maybe she hadn’t heard him. Because she was the one
who’d been so concerned about not screwing up her place on the jump
team—and a pregnancy would definitely put an end to that.

She patted him on the arm.
Jesus Christ.
“One broken condom doesn’t a pregnancy make. We’re probably
fine. Fifty-fifty odds.”

She sounded matter-of-fact, while he? He wanted to punch
something. Go for a ten mile run. Climb a cliff bare-handed. Anything to get
moving, because he suddenly felt like he was suffocating. Worse, this was his
fault. That had been his condom and his job.

And he’d failed.

Spectacularly.

He’d been—as his teenage mother had emphasized repeatedly—the
result of an unplanned pregnancy. The words
condom
and
birth control
had not been part
of his mother’s vocabulary. She’d made a half-hearted stab at parenting him,
which was more than his father had done. The man had been a name on Rio’s birth
certificate and nothing more.

That cold dose of reality deflated him on the spot.
Great
. Now she’d think he had a
performance issue to go with the hardware issue.

“Rio?” She twisted to get a better
view of his face.
Busted.

He dropped onto his back and
covered his face with his arm. Christ. Maybe he could fall down a hill or get
overrun by fire. Anything as long as it didn’t involve him being here.

“Are you okay?” She rubbed her hand
over his chest. It was probably a good sign she hadn’t run screaming into the
woods. Or threatened to shoot his ass. After all, he’d armed her.

“I’m fine.” He exhaled roughly.
Man up
. “How about you?”

She blinked. “I’m fine.”

When he placed his hand on her
belly, he nearly lost it. Her skin was taut and firm, but imagining a mini-Gia
tucked inside those curves wreaked havoc with his equilibrium. He was never
careless. Ever. And yet now the possibility was here. Inches from his palm.

“It’s just a possibility,” she
said, as if she’d read his mind. “And probably a remote one. Right now, I’m
more worried about getting out of these woods without taking a bullet in my
back, okay?”

“Where are you in your cycle?” There
were better and worse times for getting pregnant, right? Maybe they’d win the
fertility lottery and the broken condom wouldn’t matter.

“Rio.” She sounded amused. And
very, very not serious.

“Tell me.”

She thought for a minute. “I had my
period about two weeks ago, okay?”

Well. Shit. He was fairly certain
that made tonight the worst
possible
timing.

“If there’s a baby,” he began
roughly, because some things had to be said, “I’m going to be there for the two
of you.”

There was nothing he could do to
fix this mistake right now, other than get Gia out of the woods and to safety.
When he got her back to Strong, then he could do something.

“Got it,” she murmured, her lashes
drifting down. Between the Vicodin-fueled hike and his ill-timed seduction,
he’d worn her out. Her sleepiness bought him the temporary reprieve he wanted.
In seconds, she was down and out for the count.

His turn to watch the woods.

Cradling Gia against his chest, he stared
into the dark. The dark was nothing new. As a kid, he’d spent plenty of nights
curled up, listening for unfriendly footsteps. He’d slept in all sorts of
places, avoided all kinds of trouble.

But avoiding a baby? If it came to it, that was a line he wouldn’t cross. Somehow, he’d figure
out how to make it work even if he was best at moving on.
You’re nothing, boy.
Stepfather number three’s daily line. Along with
Get your ass over here
now
and
Don’t make me come over there
.
Which had usually been his cue to run until, one day, he’d just kept on running
and hadn’t ever come back.

He knew running away from home
usually didn’t work out well for the kids involved. Evan had mentioned wanting
to get involved in a charity project for runaways, a group that ran a safe
home, and that seemed like a good idea. Most kids didn’t end up with Nonna
Donovans. Instead, they slept in parks and in bus shelters, hoping they avoided
the pimps and the violence. He’d been damned lucky.