WILD PLEASURE {short erotic stories} Chapter 77: Fired Up (3)

Cole slammed out of the radio tower at base camp. Lightning forked down from the night sky, lighting up a nearby ridge. The next bright slash temporarily blinded him, but that didn’t matter. His dumb ass could stare at the fireworks display as much as it wanted, because he knew the path to Sam Clayton’s RV blindfolded.

His team commander’s RV was parked where it always was. The lights were off, but at least the camper wasn’t rocking. Sam’s fiancée wouldn’t appreciate a meet and greet in the middle of banging Sam’s brains out, and Cole needed Sam in a good mood.

An amenable Sam would make this easier.

He pounded on the door, jiggling the latch while he counted off the seconds. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. And . . . fuck politeness. The handle opened easily, because no one bothered locking up in base camp. Shoving the door open, he put his head in. Sam liked to stick to a schedule, so the giant mound beneath the covers on the bed was likely him.

“Rise and shine,” he said, knocking hard again on the open door. One way or the other, Sam was going to get up. Next step? He’d go in there and wrestle the man. Christ, he really hoped this was one of those nights when Olivia was traveling for work. As an FBI agent, Sam’s fiancée didn’t always stay put.

“What the hell?” Sam shot up in the bed, shoving back the covers.

The sleepy protest from Sam’s companion had Sam shooting daggers at him. Yeah. No luck. Olivia was having a sleepover. “Cole?”

Sure enough, Olivia sat up. She made the fire department T-shirt she was half-sporting look damned sexy. The fabric slid down her bare shoulders and he caught a glimpse of long legs as Sam stood up and headed his way.

“Stay in bed, honey.” Sam definitely did not sound happy. “I’ll be right back.”

Cole caught the snort of feminine amusement and frustration loud and clear. He was also fairly certain she added, “You wish, Sam.” But he wasn’t stupid. Get in the middle of that argument and he’d still be standing here

 next week—and he was leaving just as soon as he’d given Sam the heads- up.

“Tell me the forest is on fire.” Sam propped an arm on the door frame. Now that Sam was vertical and listening, Cole stepped back, leaning against the wall of the RV. He tipped his head back and stared up at sky. All those stars lit up the camp. Right on cue, though, there was another distant roll of thunder and bright spike of light.

“That’s the problem, right there.” He flipped a bird at the horizon and the summer lightning storm.

His fear for Hannah’s safety didn’t make any fucking sense. He’d never met the woman, no matter how many hours he’d spent talking to her on their private channel. He didn’t even know anything about her—her deepest sexual fantasies aside. And yet he really, really needed to go out and see for himself that she was fine.

“Cole?” Sam stared like Cole was crazy, and maybe he was. He’d pulled Sam out of bed and the man was standing there in just his boxers. Cole was damned lucky Sam didn’t sleep naked. The whole situation was ludicrous. There just was no good explanation and, honestly, he didn’t care.

But some part of him did care about Hannah Green and the bad situation she could be in.

Fuck. He was burning time and somehow he needed to explain the unexplainable to Sam. He should be focusing, but instead his mind was fifty miles away in a watchtower with a woman whose face he wouldn’t recognize if she walked past him.

“I need to head out.” There. That was plain enough.

“Right this second?” Sam drawled the question, even though Cole’s midnight presence on his doorstep had to be an answer.

“Pretty much.” Ten minutes. He’d spare that much. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to relax until he saw Hannah for himself.

“Because we got us a new fire?” Sam eyed him, like he thought Cole had lost it. “Or you got bad family news?”

A feminine hand waved a pair of jeans over Sam’s shoulders. “You boys might want to take this over to the office.”

“Yeah.” Taking the pants, Sam turned and pulled Olivia into his arms. Cole looked front and center because he liked Olivia and he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about an audience. Still, there was no shutting out the soft sound of kissing and the low murmur as the pair exchanged intimacies.

 “You can look now,” she said dryly. “It’s safe.”

“You bet,” he agreed, turning his head and smiling. Sam was a lucky man. Olivia tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned at him. His intrusion didn’t matter to her. For just a minute, Cole imagined what it must be like having a woman like that waiting in his RV for him. Olivia and Sam came from two different worlds, but they’d worked something out. Sam, clearly, was happy. Good for him.

“Come on,” Sam growled, stepping into his jeans and buttoning as they walked away from the RV. “We’ll talk in the office.”

Sam Clayton’s “office” was a beat-up supply depot where he’d crammed a desk and a chair for those days when the paperwork couldn’t be put off any longer. Flicking on the light, Sam dropped into his desk chair. “So hit me. What urgent piece of business has you banging on my door after midnight?”

Sam swung his feet up on the desk and papers crunched as the small mountain of paper covering the desktop dropped by a half inch or so. Cole shot a quick prayer of thanksgiving heavenward that he’d been spared the team lead. No way could he buckle down at that desk like Sam. Being shut up in here would be hell.

Instead, he laid out the bare facts. “Thunderstorm knocked the radio out at Widow’s Peak.”

Sam steepled his fingers, leaning forward in his desk chair. The tension in the man’s body was hard to overlook, but he didn’t point out that Widow’s Peak was fifty hard miles away, or mention certain basics like cell phone reception and phone lines. “You sure of that?”

“Damn sure. Heard it myself. Two near strikes and possibly one dead on.”

“Uh-huh. And your new secret superpower is long-distance hearing?” Sam’s dark gaze watched him calmly. Yeah, this was the part Cole would have preferred not to share. He hadn’t bothered dating these last few years, but he remembered enough. Kiss and tell was definitely on the no-fly list. Sam Clayton wasn’t much for office hours or protocol. The man went out and he got the job done. He was a damned fine hotshot and park ranger. He also was no fool.

That was the thing. None of the Rogues was a saint, but Cole was more devil than any of them. Sam knew that, so the look on the other man’s face —wavering between suspicion and resignation—was hardly unexpected.