Reaper's Fire

After another long kiss, Gage tore his lips away to kiss down my neck. Then his hands were catching the bottom on my shirt, tugging it up and over my head. I had a moment of self-consciousness as he looked down on my breasts and stomach. I knew I looked good in the lacy black bra, but my stomach was still covered with those silvery lines, proof that little Tricia had been real and part of my life, even if it was only for a short time.

Some women called them war wounds.

I’d lost my war.

Then Gage kissed one of them gently, tracing along the line with his tongue until he reached my bra. Mouthing my nipple through the soft satin, he slid a hand down between us, unbuttoning my jeans. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensations running through me. Restless need. Smug satisfaction that I was doing something fun and silly for once. The warmth of the air, the smell of smoke . . .

Opening my eyes, I looked down to find Gage unhooking the front of my bra, which was covered in tiny white specks.

“What is that?” I asked. Gage kissed the underside of my breast.

“What?”

“Those little—”

He sucked my nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. My eyes closed again as I collapsed into a wilting pile of lust, forgetting all about the specks. I’m not sure how long he played with my breasts after that. Long enough to drive me crazy, until my legs were shifting beneath his, tension coiling tight inside me. This kissing stuff was great but it wasn’t what I needed.

Pushing at him, I reached down to slide off my pants. Gage watched appreciatively, a slight smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

“You’re in a hurry.”

I shot him a look. “You have a condom? If not, I’ve got some in my bag.”

Gage started to laugh. “You come prepared.”

I stuck out my tongue at him and he laughed harder.

“Just grab the condom,” I said rolling my eyes. “Oh, and get your clothes off. If I’m going to be buck naked under the open sky, the least you can do is join me.”

“You’re bossy in bed,” he said, waggling his brows. “I like it.”

“You’ll like it more once you’re inside me,” I countered, reaching down to slide my fingers between my legs. His jaw dropped almost like a cartoon as I started fingering myself. “Ticktock, time is passing, Gage. You don’t want me crossing the finish line by myself, do you?”

Just like that, his vest was off and folded, followed by his shirt, which got no such courtesy. Then he was pulling out his wallet, opening it to fish out a condom. He reached down to unlace his boots and I got frustrated.

Pushing to my knees, I caught the front of his pants and pulled him toward me commandingly. Gage grinned as I unbuckled his belt before reaching for his zipper. Seconds later the pants were around his knees, hobbling him. I took advantage of the situation to jerk him down to the ground, swinging a leg over to straddle him.

Gage’s eyes darkened and the grin disappeared.

“Jesus, you’re perfect,” he said, his voice serious. I responded by sliding myself along his dick, slicking him up with the evidence of my desire. The feel of him against my clit—hot and hard as steel, covered with a thin layer of velvet-soft skin . . . it was almost enough to push me over the edge right there.

Damn.

“Condom?” I demanded, cocking a brow at him. Gage handed it over wordlessly. Ripping it open with my teeth, I slid down his body, leaning over to give his cock a quick kiss and nibble before rolling the condom down over it. Until that moment, he’d been letting me take the lead. That ended in an instant as his hands hooked through my armpits, jerking me up and over him. I felt him at my opening, then he shoved up, thrusting hard and deep from below. My head tilted back.

His kisses earlier had been gentle, but there was nothing soft about this. Bracing my hands on his shoulders, I moved against him, matching each of his thrusts with one of my own. Every few seconds I ground myself into him, easing the deep, needy burn in my clit as the tension inside me boiled fast and hard.

“Christ, you should see yourself,” Gage grunted. I ignored him, completely focused on the satisfaction that hung just out of reach. I was close—really damned close. His hands tightened around my hips, working me as our movements grew more frantic. Then he arched his pelvis, filling me in a new way, and I flew over the edge with a moan of strangled relief and collapsed across his chest.

Gage didn’t miss a beat as he rolled us over, rising on his arms above me, pounding deep as I tried to remember what my name was.

Oh, yeah. Tinker.

Opening my eyes, I looked up to find him staring down at me intently, jaw clenched as he thrust over and over, hammering me as the sweat dripped from his face. Then his movements grew more erratic, lips twisting as a sudden, powerful cry of relief broke free. His cock throbbed within me as he filled the condom, shuddering.

Slowly, Gage lowered himself again, kissing me one last time.

“Not bad,” I said, smiling at him. “You should get a damned good tip for that kind of service.”

Gage grinned back. “I’ll be sure to bring the tip jar next time.”

Catching me, he rolled to his side, tucking me into the crook of his arm. The sky had darkened, the sun very low now. The grade of the hill wasn’t too steep to be comfortable, but it was definitely steep enough that we didn’t have to sit up to watch the sunset.

“Wow, the smoke from the wildfires makes for a hell of a sunset,” he said.

“No kidding,” I replied, noticing those tiny white flakes again. I watched as one fell on his glistening chest, reaching over to touch it. It smudged, leaving a gray streak.

“Ash,” Gage said. “From the fires.”

I sighed, thinking of Randi’s grandparents. I’d grown up with wildfires—you can’t be surrounded by this much national forest without seeing them—but this year was worse than anything I’d ever experienced. I snuggled into him, relaxed and, for once, not stressed out about anything.

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea, my common sense murmured. Just don’t get cocky and do something stupid, like fall for him.

Gage kissed the top of my head, one hand rubbing up and down my back in soothing strokes as we watched the sun set. The orange lingered on the hills longer than normal, and then it hit me.

That lingering orange wasn’t from the sun.

Those were fires.