and center and my dick gives a little nod of appreciation. Shit, I don’t have time for this. Not now.
Out of habit, my attention shifts to her hand where I look for rings.
Score! There are none.
She slips, and I catch her, lifting her easily. She’s far enough out of her little hidey-hole that I pull her free. When I place her on her feet, her left leg crumples and she cries out, clutching at me for support.
“What’s wrong?” I glance down at her leg, but see no obvious injuries. This chick is scratched and bruised, looking worse for wear, but I don’t see blood or broken bones.
“It’s my ankle.”
Her hold on my upper arm is unrelenting as she steadies herself. That brief contact is all it takes for blood to surge straight to my eager cock.
I stand stiffly, praying she doesn’t look down, even though my bulky protective gear hides the woody I’m painfully sporting. I resist the urge to adjust myself and bite down as I try to get a grip. I need to focus, not gawk.
“Your ankle?” I peer down at her boots.
“I sprained it on the way down. I can’t walk.”
“Does that explain why you took shelter in the rocks?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know what to do and there was no way I could hobble out of here. I just figured I’d hunker down and pray.” She gives a sheepish grin. Her eyelids flutter as she glances down. I can’t stop staring at the perfection of her face, but I remind myself I’m a professional. Not that it helps.
Every time her mouth moves, I wonder what she might taste like, or how I’d love to see her lips wrap around my very insistent cock. It’s giving her the full salute.
“Not many people would have thought to do that,” I say, trying to focus on the present and not the thoughts swirling in my head. “It’s one of the techniques my crew is taught if we’re ever caught in a fire.” I’m surprised she thought of it at all.
“Honestly, I didn’t know if it was worth it, but the idea of being caught out in the open wasn’t top on my list.” She glances over her shoulder at the boulders. “Although…I have to say…it felt like…crawling inside an oven. I just kept thinking…I was going to get cooked in there.” She’s a bit breathless, which is a cause for concern.
I try to dispel some of her fear while she catches her breath. “I can definitely see that, but much better getting a little cooked in there than burnt to a crisp out here. Mind telling me how you got down here?”
“Pure panic.”
Emotions march across her innocent face. Pain creases her lovely brow. Fear lingers in the down-turning of her full lips. But her eyes show grit, and the determination to survive the unthinkable.
This is no fragile thing.
She’s a fighter, a survivor, and damn if that doesn’t turn me on more than her perfect ass.
Maybe it’s in the set of her jaw, or the firelight flickering in her eyes, but I sense the soul of a survivor. Her fierceness, more than her eloquent beauty, steals my breath.
“Panic?” I give a shake of my head to erase the spell this woman weaves over me.
“Yes. When I came to…there was fire…all around me. I didn’t know what to do…and…I ran.” Her voice rises in pitch. “I ran right over that cliff.” She rubs at her temple and that’s when I see the bruise.
“You ran over the edge?”
“Not on purpose.” She props her tiny fist on her hip.
“Is that how you hit your head?”
She’s scratched and bruised. Her ankle is tweaked, but she’s surprisingly unharmed from her fall.
“No.” She points to her temple emphatically. “That’s from the rock that man used to knock me out.”
“What man?”
“The one who put the rags under the bushes and started the fire.”
“What?” My brows pinch together.
My radio squawks. “Ace?”
“Excuse me.” I press the call button. “Got her, Smokey, but she’s injured. I’m going to walk her out.”
“I can’t walk…” she says, but I brush aside her concerns.
“I’m headed down the ravine. Is it still clear?”
“Yeah, the blaze angles away from your position. You should be good. Malone is bringing his chopper in to a clearing.” Smokey rattles off coordinates. “Stay in contact.”
“Will do.” I’m going to walk her out of here. She doesn’t know I’ll be doing that with her strapped to my back.
“There’s a clearing about a click downhill. You think you can make it?”
“That depends