Page 22 of The Smokejumper's Lady
“Yes—God, yes!”
His fingers slide down, finding my clit, circling with practiced ease until I can barely hold myself up. My body clenches aroundhim, my climax approaching, and just as I’m about to cry out his name, the shrill ring of the cabin phone slices through the haze.
I freeze.
But Ryan barely misses a beat. He reaches over, snatches the receiver off the wall, still sliding in and out of me, one hand still pressing me down against the counter.
“Yeah?” he says into the phone.
I can barely stop myself from moaning aloud. Why am I so turned on by this?
He keeps thrusting, faster. The sound of our bodies coming together seems startlingly loud in the quiet of the cabin as he listens to whoever’s on the other end of the line. “Got it. We’ll be ready.”
He hangs up and reaches his hand around to my clit, stroking me hard and groaning in my ear. “You liked that, didn’t you, baby? I could tell you wanted to scream loud enough to let everyone know what I’m doing to you.”
I’m nodding, thighs trembling, pleasure building to an unbearable peak.
“Come for me,” he demands.
And I do, clenching around him and moaning out my release. He comes too, emptying himself inside me and pressing gentle kisses down my back as we catch our breaths.
When we’ve separated and are pulling on our clothes again, he looks at me.
“That was dispatch. Our rides are here.”
My heart drops to my stomach, and just like that, my little bubble bursts.
Ryan cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lower lip. “You okay?”
I nod slowly. But I’m not. Not even close.
I hadn’t thought about what comes next. Not really. Everything has happened so fast—his arrival, the fire, the rescue. Us.
But now…what happens now?
Does he just leave? Do I just move on with my life like last night never happened?
My throat tightens, a knot forming in my chest. I feel raw. Exposed. Like one wrong word will shatter me.
Because if this ends here…if I walk away from him and that’s it…it’ll wreck me. Completely.
I don’t want to say goodbye.
I want to stay in this small cabin where it’s just the two of us. Where nothing hurts and everything is fire and softness and warmth.
He touches my chin, bringing my gaze to his. “Hey…whatever you’re thinking, don’t. We’re not done. Not even close.”
But I don’t know what that means.
And part of me is terrified to hope.
Ryan’s touch is grounding, but the thundering sound of wheels on gravel snaps my head toward the cabin window.
An SUV pulls up fast, brakes squealing. My stomach knots harder. I know that car.
“Oh no,” I whisper.
I’ve only just pulled on my smoke-scented pants when both front doors slam, and two familiar figures come barreling toward the cabin like a storm.
