Chapter 17 #2
Now his lips were centimeters away, so close I could almost taste them. “Then you’ll be punished.”
Every nerve ending stood on end, the wildfire of need creating bottle rockets throughout. “Fair enough.”
He took a deep breath just seconds before he crashed his lips down on mine.
I arched my back, immediately moaning into the kiss. How could I be so lightheaded when I was leaning against a wall? That’s the kind of effect he had on me. He wasn’t gentle, his roughness exhilarating. He had no intention of taking no for an answer.
That was even more exciting than the night we’d already shared.
His lips rolled around mine, every deep, guttural sound he made adding to the rush of adrenaline. When he darted his tongue inside, his strokes against mine weren’t easy or tender. They were demanding and fervent.
Exactly what I’d imagined and nothing like before. This was all about pure control.
The kiss deepened, his tongue tracing the roof of my mouth before once again colliding with my tongue. He was warm, the raw intimacy explosive.
I was breathless, clinging to him as if there was no other man on the face of the earth who could provide me with what I needed.
Sheer, powerful passion.
Our tongues danced together for some time, the taste of him fusing my senses. His scent kept the flames licking against my skin, the fragrance of smoke and danger tinged with a fresh hint of citrus.
My pulse stuttered as he consumed my mouth. With my eyes closed, the moment became the perfect method of seduction, of which he was masterful. Just as I’d expected.
My thoughts suddenly drifted to Mandy, my body involuntarily tensing.
Axe broke the kiss, cascading another swath of hot breath across my chin and cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I felt a loss, licking my lips because of it.
He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my head. “Never lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
His thumb traced circles across my skin, his head cocking to the side. “Why are you trembling?”
“Why? Maybe because I’m afraid of getting too close.”
Leaning in again, he pressed his wet lips against my forehead. “Don’t worry. I won’t allow that to happen.”
There it was. The truth about what we were sharing. At least I knew what to expect. I shouldn’t feel any senses of sadness. I’d been the one to tell Char I was a big girl and this was nothing but time spent between two adults.
Then why did I already feel a dull ache?
He didn’t offer me his hand this time. He took mine, leading us through the parking lot. Where in the world was he taking me? A vehicle owned by his brother or another smokejumper?
I didn’t figure it out until we were on the sidewalk in front of Ziggy’s, waiting for the light to change so we could cross the street.
To the two-story motel with the flickering sign.
Only once did he dart a glance in my direction before pulling me across the street. By the time we were steps away from the tiny registration lobby, we were both laughing. Why? For me it was because coming to this very motel had crossed my mind once or twice in my younger days.
Even I had a bit of a bad girl streak inside me.
A bell over the door tinkled as soon as we walked in. As with almost every small town story I’d read where a nineteen-seventies motel was included as a prop, a television was blaring from another room, lights from the screen flickering against a wall.
There were brochures of various Missoula sites, including those for kayaking and mountain climbing.
Into my mind popped something my father had mentioned about the rodeo. Brochures in every hotel and restaurant, all designed to entice tourists and locals alike.
His eyes narrowed as we propped ourselves at the counter. “Something wrong, Palomino Girl?”
“You like to live recklessly.”
“Sure. Why not?” He kept his eyes locked on me as he smashed his hand down on the old-fashioned ringer.
His swagger had always attracted me, his larger-than-life attitude the basis for every fantasy.
With one toe of his boot on the floor and his long, muscular legs crossed and with the way he was leaning over the counter, there couldn’t be a better view.
There was nothing like a man in a pair of tight, faded blue jeans to fuel the darkest moments of sin. And that’s exactly what was happening.
We continued studying each other, allowing the hunger to race through our systems even as we sensed a presence.
“Um. Can I help you folks?”
The man’s voice was gruff yet uncertain. Without looking in his direction, Axe thumped the bottle of booze on the counter. “Yeah, we’d like a room. Deluxe if you have it.” He winked, arching a single eyebrow in a challenge.
This had to be one of the craziest things I’d done. No clothes. No toothbrush. No vehicle.
But we had liquor.
And each other.
So I nodded. Why the hell not live life a little recklessly?
“For a couple hours?” As soon as the employee asked the question, I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Nah, buddy. For the whole night. We’ll need a late checkout too. Trust me. It’s going to take all that time to satisfy my needs.”
The warm flush sliding up from the base of my neck brought a slight giggle, which I stifled by pressing my fingers across my mouth.
“Alrighty then. I’ll just need a credit card,” the man said, amusement clearly in his voice.
Now I was the one who lifted an eyebrow, mimicking him in a question. The corners of his mouth upturned as he pulled out his wallet, yanking out a credit card. “Oh, and a room with a view. Best you got.”
Axe still wasn’t paying the man any mind, enjoying eyeing me as a tasty treat, a morsel he had every intention of consuming.
Meanwhile, the older man behind the counter had his eyebrows furrowed, darting his eyes back and forth between us. Obviously, he wasn’t used to dealing with a man like Axe, a guy who insisted on everything going his way.
The clerk snagged the card and just before he ran it through his system, he glanced at Axe again. “They said you died on that mountain.”
“What?” I almost choked.
Axe was calm and collected, finally turning his head toward the guy. “Here I am in the flesh. There isn’t a fire that can consume me.”
I poked him in the stomach while the clerk grumbled under his breath.
“I guess that makes you a legend,” the clerk added. Somehow, I didn’t think he meant that as a compliment.
“Nah, just a guy hoping to impress a girl.”
The answer I hadn’t expected. While the charges were being applied, Axe reached over, taking my fingers into his. The gesture was simple, more like one a man would take who was uncertain of the lady’s desires. But that wasn’t the case at all.
His actions were merely a not-so-subtle reminder of what was to come once we were safely tucked behind closed doors.
“You’re all set. I put you nice folks in the bridal suite,” the clerk said. I felt like time started moving again as he pushed two sets of real keys with a plastic tab indicating the room number toward us.
Even before it began, I knew the night was one I’d remember for a long time to come.
Axe grabbed both, shoving them into his pocket and with exaggerated motions, swung around to finally fully face the man. Still leaning over the counter, he grinned like a man holding a raucous secret. “You got any snacks around here?”
The awkward moment caught everyone off guard. The sudden cease in conversation was by no means silent, the television still blaring. The nightly news was on.
Another station.
Another broadcaster.
The same story only told from a different angle.
“While our local smokejumping team has been heralded for several risky rescues over the years, the events occurring yesterday on the west side of the Bitterroot Mountains are an incredible reminder of their constant bravery. One of our own, Axe Beckett, saved another smokejumper’s life when a burst of wind threatened to drag him off the cliff. ”
Axe’s face contorted from amusement and he shrugged as if it was no big deal.
The reporter continued with the story and the three of us remained quiet.
What the report did for me was to remind me of just how dangerous his chosen profession was. When it was over, I turned away, feeling emotional. A few tears formed as my brain processed one too many what-if scenarios.
“Wow,” the clerk said. “I guess you are alive, Mr. Beckett. Hold on a second.”
Axe pulled me forward and against him. I gingerly placed my hand on his chest. “You almost died. Didn’t you?”
“All in a day’s work.”
“Don’t be so cavalier.”
“Hey, Palomino Girl. I’m standing right here. Nothing happened. Maybe you should learn to trust me.”
“Mmm… Said the spider to the fly.”
“I have an unopened box of Cheez-Its if you want ‘em. White cheddar. Pretty damn good.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the clerk was holding a large red box, but I was still fighting tears. Maybe ridiculous, but I couldn’t imagine learning that Axe had perished in a fire.
Like a venomous snake, Axe snatched the box from his hand, yanking the bottle of whiskey into the other while nodding toward the door. “Shall we?”
“Yeah, I think we should.”
“Does that mean you’ll follow my rules?”
I pursed my lips before answering. “Of course I will.”
Somehow, we both knew I was lying.
That made the moment that much more exciting.