Blaze Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  EBook Offer

  Blaze

  Missoula Smokejumpers, Book Five

  Piper Stone

  Blushing Books

  ©2018 by Blushing Books® and Piper Stone

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

  a subsidiary of

  ABCD Graphics and Design

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  The trademark Blushing Books®

  is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  Piper Stone

  Blaze

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-706-6

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61258-654-0

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Contents

  What’s Inside

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Piper Stone

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  What’s Inside

  Stasha leaned forward in her chair until their lips were only a couple inches apart. “This can’t happen.”

  He tilted his head, considering her words. “I know.” Pressing his lips against hers, he was unable to shove away his desire, a deep-seated longing that pushed him past any level of rationality. Gripping her neck, he tugged her forward, allowing the kiss to become a roar of passion. His head was foggy, words and thoughts drifting in and out of his rational mind.

  Clinging to him, she whimpered, the sound floating between them as she darted her tongue inside his mouth. Every move was tentative, full of trepidation and she remained shaking.

  Boone pulled her into a standing position and slipped his arms around her waist, easing her off her feet. The kiss became passionate, their teeth gnashing together, the sounds guttural.

  She tugged at his shirt, yanking it from the waistband of his jeans and slid her hands underneath.

  Electric jolts shot through every cell in his body, creating a wave of heat. He rubbed his hands up and down her back as he ground his groin against her stomach. The friction was killing him. Easing her down, he panted as he stared into her eyes.

  Fisting his shirt, she gave him a lust filled smile, her breath ragged.

  “By all rights I should plant you over my knee and give you the spanking of your life.”

  “Why?” she challenged, a slight smile curling on her lip.

  “Because you scared me to death. That shit is never going to happen again. You got it?”

  “Yes, sir.” Fumbling with his buttons, she gave him a saucy wink. “A spanking, huh?”

  “Hard. With my hand and my belt.”

  Stasha darted a glance down to his belt, licking her lips. “I like a powerful man.”

  “Don’t tease me or else.”

  “Maybe I want to find out what you’ll do.”

  Even the expression on her face was far too tempting. Boone took a step back and wrangled with his shirt, yanking the material up and off his shoulders. Giving her no time, he grabbed a handful of her T-shirt, removing it within seconds.

  She gasped but her hands moved to his belt buckle, her hands moving deftly as she unfastened it, slipping the leather from the first loop. “I like a challenge.”

  “You’re going to learn you’re not the one giving orders.” Dear God, the woman was driving him insane. His lust fueling his every move, he slipped both straps of her bra down her arms, revealing her voluptuous breasts. Grunting, he cupped both, fingering her nipples until they became rock hard.

  After sliding her hand inside his jeans and underwear, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, squeezing as she purred, “God, I want you.”

  “Be careful what you ask for.” Bending at the knee, he opened his mouth wide, engulfing her aureole, sucking on her tender tissue, his tongue dragging back and forth.

  “Oh!” Tipping her head back, she moaned, her eyelids flitting open and closed. She pumped the base of his cock, moving her hand in a semi-circle.

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  Chapter 1

  Air Attack: The planes and people that coordinate air operations over a fire.

  Helitorch: A firing device on a helicopter which is capable of starting a fire.

  Tail: The backend or initial part of a fire that spreads slowly at lower intensity.

  Zulies: Missoula smokejumpers.

  We’re all running from our past, whether because of horrific events or the inability to face our fears. What we do after we’ve landed is the only aspect that matters…

  “Damn good idea you had, my friend.”

  Boone Martin glanced over at his buddy and fellow smokejumper and grinned. “Every once in a while, I have them.” Sawyer Lincoln professed to be a true cowboy but hadn’t been out riding with him since Boone had moved to Missoula. “I
thought I’d never get you on a horse.”

  Sawyer stretched out on the blanket and closed his eyes, but not before shooting his friend the finger. “Shut your ass up and relax. It’s our day off, remember? I’m exhausted.”

  “That means you’re very old.” He couldn’t help but tease. The entire team of smokejumpers had been training almost every day in preparation of what experts called a dangerous upcoming season.

  As if these so-called experts had any idea how to predict the weather patterns. Hell, the winter season had been ferocious with several out of control forest fires, including one in West Virginia. The entire team had been flown out to provide assistance. They were lucky to be alive.

  “This old man is gonna kick your ass if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Sawyer growled.

  “Bring it!” Laughing, Boone settled just a few feet away, cradling his knees and studying the water. The river was rough, much more so given the recent early summer storms. Still, the grassy knoll was tranquil, allowing him to process the upcoming event tomorrow morning. What had he gotten himself into? He’d been away from Texas as well as training for years.

  “You’re really going through with it?” Sawyer asked, as if reading his mind.

  “Hell, yeah. I can’t back out now. Besides, I’m really looking forward to getting in there. Blaze will have a good time.”

  “Should be interesting,” Sawyer teased. “A smokejumper snagging a cow.”

  Boone laughed. “Roping steer, my friend and there’s a lot of money to be made on the rodeo circuit.” The glory days had been the best of his life.

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Since you’re such a cowboy, we might be able to get you into that ring. Course your ass will be tossed, kicked, trampled and we’ll have to call the paramedics.”

  Sawyer lifted his head, giving him the evil eye. “You’re buckin’ to get your ass beat today.”

  “Callin’ it as I see—”

  “Help!”

  “What the hell?” The cry was faint, the wind carrying the strangled voice away almost immediately. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  Boone craned his neck and searched the water as well as the shoreline, listening for any additional sounds. “I could have sworn I heard a cry for help.”

  “You’re dreaming, dude. Why don’t you grab a beer? Get me one too.”

  Boone knew what he’d heard. A single shiver slithered down his spine. Jerking to his feet, he walked closer to the water, shading his eyes from the sun. He could see a few people on the other side of the river, but he doubted no one close enough to hear the distinct word. “I swear I—”

  “Help!”

  The cry came again, the sound closer.

  “Okay, I know I heard that,” Boone walked closer, stepping over rocks.

  “Yeah, I did too.” Scrambling to his feet, Sawyer followed him to the edge of the water, scanning the horizon. “Sounded like a girl.”

  “No doubt.” His entire body tense, he walked to the right several feet, steadying himself on the few flat rocks. The water was spitting over the jagged edges, lapping against the shoreline. From this vantage point, he could hear the pounding of the waves as they crashed down from the waterfall. This wasn’t a designated swimming area during any time of the year. Squinting, he could swear he noticed a blip of red, but the powerful stream was rolling so fast. “Come on. Come on. Where are you?”

  “Aahhh!”

  “Shit. What the fuck?” Sawyer walked into the water, almost slipping. “Damn it. Who would be foolish enough to get in the river here?”

  “Could be a kayaker or canoer caught in the rapids.”

  “Then they don’t have a freakin’ chance,” Sawyer stated, his voice shaking.

  They both remained quiet, searching.

  After a few seconds, Boone could see the same hint of color, a garish and very bright red. The blob in the water was bobbing up and down, going completely under the raging swirl. Hair. He could just make out blonde hair. “Shit. There’s someone in the water. I can see her, and she’s headed straight for the falls.”

  “What?” Sawyer raced to his side, turning his head from left to right. “Oh, Jesus. You’re right. There’s no way we can swim out there. None. The fire department can’t get here in time.”

  “No, they can’t. Grab my rope off Blaze,” Boone directed.

  “Your rope?”

  “Just fuckin’ do it!” There was little time given how fast the stream was moving. If the girl reached the falls, the pitch down over one hundred feet would certainly kill her. “Do it!”

  “Okay! Okay.”

  He heard Sawyer racing away and tried to keep his eyes on the girl. The rapids were drawing her closer to this side. She was maybe two hundred yards out. Still too far. He took several long strides into the river, trying to get a better look. The force of the water pummeled him, and he slipped, falling into the frigid water. “Shit.” Jerking up, he wiped water out of his eyes as he steadied his feet.

  “Here. What in the hell do you think you’re going to do with this?” Sawyer tossed him the rope.

  “Try and save her. Call 9-1-1.” He held the rope in his hand and refused to allow fear to enter his system. He could do this. The girl was closer, flailing as she screamed for help. His fingers wrapped around the rope, pulling the thick strand into position. He’d have one shot at this. One. After that, there was nothing else he could do. As he waited he counted, studying the rapids and the distance her body was carried. This wasn’t like wrestling a steer to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Sawyer called from behind. “You don’t actually think you can grab her with the rope?”

  “Call them.” Boone gulped as he fingered the twisted strands. This was a new rope, barely broken in and damn, it had better be strong. You can do this. He was no longer certain of his skills, but at this point, there was no self-doubt allowed. None. Concentrate. Concentrate.

  “Grabbing my phone.”

  “Hey. Look over here!” Boone’s voice boomed over the rustling water and he held his breath as the girl jerked her head in his direction. She began to paddle, as if that would make any difference. “Catch this when I throw it to you.” Whether or not she heard, he couldn’t be certain, but he had to try. If he managed to snag her, he’d have only a few seconds to reel her in or the rapids could take both of them. Today was not a good day to die.

  Swinging the rope over his head, he thought of nothing but all the weeks of practice, the years of training. He could do this. No, he would do this.

  “Goddamn, you are. You’re never going to be able to do this,” Sawyer moaned.

  The girl was shoved closer. Almost a hundred yards now. He moved further into the water as he kept swinging, making certain the rope was in the right position.

  Swing. Swing. Swing.

  Toss.

  Boone held onto the head and could hear Sawyer’s yelp in the background. Everything slowed down as the rope shimmied in the air, unraveling as it headed in the girl’s direction. He held his breath as the girl reached out of the water. Please God. Please God.

  Whoosh!

  “Yes!” Sawyer called.

  Immediately tugging, he yanked back the rope using the power of his upper body strength. “Come on. Come on.” The rapids pulled hard against him, trying to drag them both out into the water. Slipping, he fell face first into the water, his fingers digging into the muddy muck. Hoisting his body into the air, he was shaking from adrenaline.

  “No! God. Oh, God!” The girl was screaming, twisting as she clawed the rope, her face full of terror.

  “Hold on. I have you.” He could do this. Yes. Yes! Seeing Sawyer, he gave him a nod of respect.

  “I got it,” Sawyer said as he grabbed onto the rope, wrapping the woven material around his arm. “Come on, pull!”

  Grunting, Boone planted his feet, refusing to let this woman die.

  “Please. Oh, please,” the girl whined.

&
nbsp; What seemed like hours later, the girl was only twenty feet out. “Sawyer, hold it.” Leaving the rope with his buddy, he jumped into the water, grabbing her around the waist. “I have you. I’ve got you.”

  “Oh, God!” The girl cried as he dragged her out of the water, cradling her body against his as he walked over the craggy rocks.

  As Boone eased her to the grassy surface, he dropped to his knees, hearing sirens in the background. “You’re safe.”

  “You’re… amazing,” she managed, her entire body shaking.

  “Holy shit, man. That’s what I call wrestling.” Breathing out, Sawyer shook his head. “That was incredible.”

  Wham! Crack!

  The man’s bloodied body was tossed onto the ground, the punch to his face splattering a stream of blood.

  “Jesus. H. Fucking Christ. The boy’s a bleeder,” he huffed and wiped a glob of bloody goo off the side of his face, flicking his hand. Glaring at the three men standing in a circle, his rage continued to increase. The damn hired help was nothing but a pain in the ass. And now, he had to get his hands dirty. The asshole was going to pay for interrupting such a lovely morning. “Get his fuckin’ ass up.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Smith.”

  Two of the men wrangled the beaten man to his feet, dragging him toward the man in charge, shit eating grins on both of their faces.

  Mr. Smith. Well, at least a few of the boys had manners. He sniffed as he walked closer, studying the man’s swollen eyes and broken nose. “Bobby, you’re a shithead. Do you know that?”