Slow Burn (Smoke Jumpers) (12 page)

“You and Jack are engaged,” Faye said, and Lily nodded.

“We are.”

“And you don’t mind when he goes out on a call? When he leaves you behind to go out there and jump?”

“It’s not my favorite thing,” Lily admitted. “But it’s what he does. He’s good at it, Faye. Really, really good. I know he’ll stay as safe as he can, and someone needs to do it. He thinks it has to be him.”

Yes. The Donovan Brothers were the best, Evan silently acknowledged. He straightened the lines and folded the chute’s tail up with military precision. His chute would open up, nice and symmetrical, next time he jumped.

“Still,” Faye pressed, “it can’t be easy, loving a smoke jumper.” He could almost hear the list of downsides running through her head.

He tucked the last fold and gave the whole package a once-over while Lily hesitated but finally handed Faye an answer. “I don’t like thinking about him coming home hurt, or not at all, no. That’s not an easy thing.”

“So Jack still jumps every chance he gets?” Faye sounded as if maybe she’d been hoping the engagement would convince his brother to ease up on his jump schedule some. He could have told her that Jack would never quit while they needed him. He’d jump, and he’d fight fires until the day he was too old and too broken to do it anymore. That’s what any Donovan would do.

“They don’t stop, ever.” Nonna’s quiet murmur was almost swallowed up by the crinkle of paper. “Question is, honey, are you asking because you’re doing a story for a magazine—or because you’re wondering what it would be like to be with a man like that?”

“Busted.” Faye laughed, and that husky sound made him want to go right down those stairs and take her back into his arms. He’d kiss her again, and they’d pick up where they’d left off. It would be good, too.

Nonna’s soft hum of amusement said his mother approved. “You and Evan do seem to have hit it off.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Are you seeing him?” Lily was more forthright. Maybe Jack had already given her an earful, or maybe she was tired of the whole beating-around-the-bush thing. She was asking straight out. Too bad he didn’t know the answer himself.

“No.” Faye’s quick shake of her head said it all. “I think you’re both misunderstanding this,” she said apologetically.

Well, hell
. He looked down at the nice, neat package he had all ready to slip inside the D-Bag. Suddenly he was a whole lot less interested in getting the chute inside the deployment bag.

“We aren’t dating,” Faye continued. “Evan offered to show me around, give me a feel for smoke jumping and Strong.”

His Faye was a sweet little liar. That was okay, though, because he didn’t want all their private details paraded past Nonna and Lily. And
fuck
. How had he come to have
private
feelings about Faye Duncan?

“I’m just passing through Strong,” Faye explained. “I’m out of here as soon as I’ve finished my piece. So it doesn’t really matter, does it? I only have a handful of days.”

Lily’s sigh spoke of personal experience. “The Donovan men aren’t easy. That’s a real tight timeline you’ve got there, Faye. Evan’s going to have you rethinking things soon.”

“Pure challenge, the Donovan boys,” Nonna agreed. “That hasn’t changed in almost twenty years. They’ll give you a run for your money, but it’s all worth it in the end.”

“He’s a bad boy.” He could
hear
the little smile playing on Faye’s lips. “That’s fine with me. In fact, that’s perfect. I’m not looking for happily-ever-after. Not right now. Maybe not ever.”

That was plenty clear.

He got the repacked chute beneath his knees to force out any air and then neatly slid the lot inside the container. When the next call came in, he’d be good to go.

With a divorce just behind her, no way she’d hop straight back onto that horse. His Faye was still broken, wasn’t one hundred percent. That made him mad, even though it shouldn’t have. He didn’t need her heart—he didn’t want it, he told himself, because that was the kind of thing Jack or Rio would have been good at—but he wanted to fix what had gone wrong for her. If she wanted him just for a while, she could have him.

“I’m heading back,” she announced. “Can I hitch a ride with you two?”

He hung the newly packed chute on the wall with the others. “There’s no need for that, darlin’,” he called, taking the stairs fast and striding out of the hangar toward her. Behind Faye, Lily smothered a smile. “Faye and I have unfinished business here.”

E
van was a silent presence, waiting behind her while Nonna and Lily called their good-byes. He lifted a hand in farewell as the other women got into their car. Faye, however, simply turned and stared. God, he was worth staring at. He was all tall and broad-shouldered beneath his white cotton T-shirt. The flight suit he’d worn for their jump was still unzipped and shoved down to his waist, and the bulky material made his muscled thighs seem bigger. Harder. He ate up the ground as he came toward her now, and she wanted to look and then look some more.

“Unfinished business?” She grinned up at him. That sounded like pure promise on his part—a promise she was totally on board with.

“Absolutely.” One large hand shot out, catching her around the waist. He pulled her up against his side, and then he was moving fast, taking her back deep inside the hangar. The contrast between the sultry, mind-melting heat of the outside air with this deliciously cool, shadowy place hit her. She eyed the stairs to the loft, but he wasn’t taking her there. Not yet. For the moment, she was happy to put herself in his hands and see where he could take them both.

Right now the touch of those hands on her waist burned through the thin cotton of her tank top, and seeing his darkly tanned fingers on the pale fabric made her feel intensely feminine in the masculine space of the hangar. That was good, too, a delicious treat she could allow herself. In the distance, car doors slammed. Nonna and Lily were leaving and, with them, her ride. She’d need Evan to take her back to town, after all.

She watched his face and didn’t know if that ride was a sure thing or not.

That was one hell of a possessive look he had. He stared at her as if she was his and he wasn’t letting go until he was good and ready to do so. Which could be trouble. This was a temporary thing. She had a road to hit and a life to live. She wasn’t staying in Strong.

And yet, oh, God, when he walked her backward with delicious intent, all her plans flew right out the window. This was Evan Donovan, big, solid, dependable Evan, who was going all primitive on her. There was no forgetting how he’d felt at her back as he’d launched them both from the plane. He’d held on to her all the way down, keeping her safe. This man was the same man—and yet not. As if he’d let go of that tight, disciplined control just a little.

She liked it.

She liked
him
.

Her back hit a wall. Distantly, she was aware that he’d moved them into an empty space where the jumpers’ chutes hung, waiting for action. Each breath she took smelled like leather and nylon and something indescribably smoky and male.

And then his hand slapped against the wall next to her head. “You teased me, Faye.”

His deep growl shot straight to her belly. Oh, yeah. She remembered that pleasure. And she sure had teased him, because, God, it had been fun. “Are you complaining?” she challenged. She got her hands on his T-shirt, curling her fingers into the soft fabric. The man beneath the shirt was anything but soft.

“Maybe I’m not,” he admitted. His other hand tightened on her waist, then started a wicked slide upward. “But I am wanting to finish what we started.”

“We’re alone now,” she pointed out.

“Not for long,” he growled. “You know how busy a jump hangar gets when there’s a fire? There could be a call any minute. We’ve got watches on two spots already. There could be smoke soon.”

“You always expect trouble?”

“It’s summer, Faye.” His thighs pushed against hers, parting hers and pinning her there. Making her want more. “There are always more fires and always more calls. There’s never enough time.”

She was going to do this. Why not? It had been too long, and Evan was the kind of adventure she didn’t want to resist.

“So we’ll need to be quick.”

 

Bad boy
.

Faye’s earlier words still rang in Evan’s ears. A pink flush of arousal stained her cheeks, and her lips parted as she rocked his world. He recognized the greedy look in her eyes as she watched him, waiting for him to make up his mind. As if there was any doubt about his decision. He wanted her badly. He was simply afraid that he would hurt her.

“Faye,” he rasped. “We should slow down.”

She shook her head, her fingers tightening in his T-shirt. “That’s not what I want.”

“
I
don’t want to hurt you,” he said pointedly.
Christ.
He was so big, and she was so very, very small.

“You won’t,” she said confidently, and her fingers smoothed the fabric of his shirt against his chest, finding his nipple. She stroked, and he groaned. The sound hung in the air between them, raw and needy. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Evan.”

He was glad she was so sure, but he still didn’t know why she’d want to do this. Her ex was a fireman. Why would she pick a smoke jumper for a quick summer fling?
Adventure,
his brain supplied.
Sex?
Maybe.

“This isn’t the kind of thing I usually do,” he warned, because she needed some kind of heads-up here. He wasn’t Rio, and he didn’t seduce countless women. He wanted to make Faye Duncan an exception, though.
Her
he wanted.

“You don’t play sexy games in the hangar?” Her mouth curled up at the corners, pure naughtiness. Her hands moved over his chest and over his shoulders, as if she enjoyed the simple feel of him. That soft, slow glide of her skin over his clothed body was setting him on fire, though. He wanted more. He wanted whatever she would give him.

“No,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You might have the wrong brother here.”

“I’m pretty sure I have the one I want.” That naughty grin peeked up at him again, her hands meeting behind his neck to tug him toward her. “You’re more than enough bad boy for me, Evan, so shut up and kiss me.”

If Faye wanted bad boy, he’d give her bad boy. If she wanted him to make love to her in the Donovans’ flight hangar, he’d do that, too. She was so damned sexy, a sensual flirt who didn’t mind getting caught. The other jumpers could walk in, and she wouldn’t care. She’d let them see exactly what Evan made her feel. There was nothing sexier than that.

“Whatever you want, you can have, darlin’.” This close, she couldn’t miss the thick ridge of his erection. He wanted her, too. This hard-on was all for her, all because of her. She looked up at him, her face dazed and flushed, and the hunger he saw there was blazing deep inside him, as well.

He lowered his head, spun the moment out. He wanted this kiss, wanted it to last, and yet the need burning him up from the inside out said this was going to be hot and fast and over almost before it began. So he closed the little distance still between them real slow, his mouth coming down on hers in a sweet, sensual tease. Just brushing her lips with his own. Letting her know he was right there with her.

Once, twice, his lips rubbed softly over hers. And she was soft. That mouth of hers was pure perfection, the bottom lip full and giving. He licked and tasted, learning this small piece of her. Nipped playfully and swept inside when she opened up. He kissed her and kissed her, until his own breathing was a rough sigh of sound in his ears, and he no longer knew who was kissing whom.

“I love kissing you.” His voice sounded rough and raw, but he guessed she didn’t mind, because she shivered and pressed closer.

“You do?” She tipped her head back, shifting closer. Her breasts pressed right up against him now.

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse. “You taste so damned perfect, Faye.”

 

Evan picked her up effortlessly, spreading her legs around his waist. In his arms, Faye felt light and sexy and feminine. The rough fabric of his jumpsuit rubbed against her thighs, reminding her of exactly how open she was right now. Reinforcing the erotic feel of her soaked folds parting beneath too many layers of clothing. He leaned back, looking down at her. There was no hiding here, not in the daylight and not when he looked at her like that. That was okay. This was what she’d wanted.

Evan Donovan knew
exactly
who he had in his arms.

“Hold on,” he growled, and then he took her up the stairs. God, there was nothing sexier than the raw power of him, that big hand cupping her ass and the other pressed against the small of her back. He had his fingers tucked against the bottom of her pussy. Almost naughty but not quite. Her hips pressed against him, the muscles of her thighs tightening around him, and each step ratcheted up the arousal another notch, leaving her deliciously tense with anticipation. She was stretched around him. Waiting for more.

“You liked that.”

“I did.” God, her arousal was a slow, sweet pound. She wanted him, wanted him groaning out her name as he explored her body with those large fingers of his. As he pushed inside her where she was slick and wet with need. He’d give her whatever she needed. Whatever she wanted. The promise of that pleasure had her heating up more, his name a greedy whimper on her lips.

He set her down for a minute. Long enough to push the jumpsuit down his legs. His erection was as big and blunt as the rest of him. She was a lucky, lucky woman.

She touched him, and he jerked. “Someone’s eager,” she whispered, and then she reached out both hands. She was feeling a little eager herself. Eager and greedy for him.

Wrapping her fingers around his shaft, she moved her hands up and down, letting her fingers slip away when she found the tip. Gently she twisted her palm over the head where he was soft and silky hard. Her fingers relaxed and covered him, gliding down again. Her other hand closed around him, repeating the upward stroke until the center of her palm was pressed against the heat of him. Right now, he was all
hers
.

“I’m getting you naked,” he warned. He wasn’t going to hear any objections from her. She wanted them both naked. Preferably about twenty minutes ago. He must have agreed, because his hands made short work of stripping off her tank top. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, so her breasts sprang free when he got the shirt off.

His fingers unsnapped her little denim shorts. The cutoffs were too short and too small, dating from before she’d married. The thought flashed through her mind that she was probably too old for that kind of peekaboo denim, but she’d wanted to feel young again, like when she’d been in her teens and waiting for a boyfriend to pick her up.

“If we had more time,” he said roughly, “I’d be kissing these.” His hands swept up, cupping her breasts. His callused palms weighed her, brushing against the sensitive tips.

“But we don’t.” She wet her lips with her tongue.

“No,” he agreed. His fingers stroked down the curve of her hip, tugging gently. Her panties were a little scrap of white nylon and lace she’d chosen because they made her feel feminine. Sexy.

The hot look in Evan’s eyes said he liked those panties, too. A whole lot.

His big fingers found her core through the lacy fabric, teasing the edges of where she was wet and needy for him. He’d said they had to be quick. This wasn’t quick at all.

Three fingers glided over her, pressing in. One big finger found her clit and stroked. Moving up and then down. The hot, full burst of sensation through the lacy fabric was perfect. Not too much, until his thumb slipped beneath the edge, finding her wetness.
Oh, God
. She sank down, desperate for more. That wicked thumb teased and stroked, parting her just an inch and then retreating. Returning. The hangar around them was an inferno of need, the heat driving her higher.

“I’m taking them off now.” He growled the warning, and she tensed in anticipation.

“Please,” she whispered.

He was as good as his word. His fingers found the delicate ribbons holding the sides of her panties together. One hard snap of his wrist and the little scrap of fabric disappeared. She needed him now. Needed to feel him deep inside her. Needed him touching her more. Her entire body was on fire, alive to his touch and his presence as she’d never been before.

“Hurry up,” she demanded, and he braced her with one arm, leaning away for a moment to reach for his wallet. “Please,” she added, because she was willing to beg for this.

“Whatever you want, darlin’,” he promised, his hoarse, dark words already making good that guarantee. He tore open a foil packet and rolled on a condom one-handed. “Let me take care of this. Let me keep you safe.”

She wrapped both legs around him, spreading her thighs wide around his waist. The bunched-up fabric of his jumpsuit hit her heels, and that added to the naughty thrill. He lifted her, and the muscles of his back surged beneath her legs. He was big and raw, powerful and male—and all hers. She moaned, acknowledging that sweet truth. Right now, Evan belonged to her.

“You going to be quiet?” he asked in a rough whisper. “You want anyone else to hear you coming for me, Faye?”

She moaned. His hands smoothed over her skin, petting her, stroking that place where she wanted him most, and the sensation was almost agonizingly pleasurable. She needed him desperately, with an unfamiliar, wonderful ache. Her back hit the wall again, and she pushed her hips up. “You come find out, Evan.”

His hand cupped her ass, supporting her, and the tip of him found her.

Nothing had ever felt better.

 

He held her up, cupping her bottom securely. She looked up at him, and he could feel the need rippling through her. She trusted him to hold her. To give her what she needed right now. The hunger was eating him up, and he was done holding back. He wanted to be inside her right now, and she was as ready as he was.

Tucking his erection at her wet opening, he pushed slowly inside her. She was killing him. Inside, she was all hot and creamy. Little moans and half words spilled from her lips, and her hands found his shoulders again and urged him closer. He gave her what she wanted, just took his own sweet time about it. The heat was reaching for him, too, building into a white-hot storm of need.