Sheer, powerful passion.
Our tongues danced together for some time, the taste of him fusing my senses. His scent kept the flames licking against myskin, 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.
