Jill Shalvis - Flashpoint

She tightened her grip on him so he couldn’t move, couldn’t break free, not yet, and he pressed his hips to hers as if he didn’t want to let go, either.

But then she realized how ridiculous that was. She didn’t cling, ever, and she was sure he didn’t, so she forced herself to relax her hold, to free him.

But he remained right where he was, muscles still quaking, eyes still a bit glazed over, just holding her, and something happened to her in that moment, something ripped deep in the region of her chest.

Oh, no. No, no, no…

She was not going to fall in love.

At least not any further than she already had…

Only she wasn’t stupid, or slow-witted. She knew the truth. Knew it was far too late. Needing to lighten the mood, she lifted her head and smiled. “Two condoms down…”

He let out a half laugh, half groan.

“Hey, if you’re too tired for that third one, I understand.”

Eyes glittering at that challenge, Zach bit her lower lip. He then proceeded to teach her a whole new kind of appreciation for her handheld showerhead-and she risked her knees to return the gesture.

By the time they hit his bed and tore open the third condom, she’d “let loose” multiple times and she was one quivering, sensitized nerve ending who could do nothing but feel.

And she felt plenty.

So damn plenty.

“Jesus,” Zach breathed shakily in her ear some time later. “That third time was…”

“Yeah.”

Turning his head, he softly kissed her throat, then her lips, coming up on an elbow to look into her face. “If we don’t have the words for it, I say we keep going.”

There were many, many reasons why she should get up and go home, but there was only one reason why she turned into his arms.

Zach woke up with a hard-on and a smile, both of which vanished when he realized he was alone.

Great. Terrific. Brooke wasn’t clingy, and he’d always liked that in a woman. Unable to pinpoint the basis for his sudden irritability, he took a shower, and just looking at the showerhead, remembering its use last night, had him smiling again.

He dressed and stopped to visit Phyllis at the hospital on the way to work. She wasn’t awake but he left her flowers and a Polaroid of Cecile sprawled on the firehouse couch, looking like the Queen of Sheba.

The picture reminded Zach that Tommy hadn’t called him regarding the photo he’d sent, and something niggled at him, just in the back of his brain, a connection that he couldn’t quite put together. It bugged the hell out of him.

At the station, he headed directly for the kitchen and caffeine. He found Cristina raiding someone’s lunch and Cecile meowing at her feet for handouts.

Cristina looked at Zach, then did a double take.

“What?” he asked, looking himself over to see if he’d put his pants on backward.

“Hey,” Dustin said, coming into the room, gesturing to the sandwich in Cristina’s hand. “That’s mine.”

Cristina took a bite, still staring at Zach. “You know what.”

“Not a clue,” Zach told her.

“My sandwich,” Dustin said again.

With a shrug, Zach headed for the coffee, but Cristina muttered something beneath her breath and, frustrated, he turned back to her. “Spit it out then.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re flaunting your just-gotten-laid airs.”

“Hello,” Dustin said to the room. “Am I invisible? That’s my sandwich.”

Cristina sighed and handed it over.

Brooke came in but stopped short when she saw them all. A smile slipped out of her at the sight of Zach, one that had we had great shower sex last night all over it, and it was adorable.

Cristina saw it and rolled her eyes as Brooke headed to the coffeepot. “Jesus. You two did it again? You know it’s a dry summer when even the New Hire is getting more than me.”

At that, Brooke spilled coffee over the edge of her mug and onto her fingers. “Ouch.”

“Karma,” Cristina told her.

“Hey, Cranky Pants.” Dustin tossed Cristina back the sandwich. “Maybe I should go bring you some Wheaties instead.”

“I’d rather get lucky.”

“You could get lucky,” Dustin responded. “Anytime.”

“No, I can’t.” She opened the Baggie and took another bite, still frowning. “My vibrator broke.”

Dustin’s jaw fell open.

Zach handed him a mug of coffee and gently tapped his chin until his mouth closed. “Easy there, big D.”

“Seriously, look at this face,” Cristina demanded of Dustin, waving the sandwich around. “Does it say I’ve gotten any good action lately? Does it say freshly laid? Does it say orgasm central? No, it does not.”

Zach glanced at Brooke, who was desperately trying not to look at any of them. He didn’t want to brag, but he was pretty damn sure she’d visited orgasm central just last night, compliments of him.

Dustin cleared his throat. “You could try a man,” he said to Cristina. “You know, instead of a vibrator.”

“A live penis? Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” Cristina poured a pound of sugar into her coffee, stirring so hard some of it splashed out.

Zach leaned in. “A little less anger, you might scare away the penises. Or is it peni?”

She pointed at him. “You, of the Recently Had Sex Club, shut up. You don’t get to give me advice.”

Brooke went even more red.

“How about me?” Dustin asked. “Can I give you advice?”

“Hell, no.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t take advice from a man who throws his heart into every relationship, only to get it crushed.”

“If you don’t put yourself out there, then why bother?”

Cristina stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. “You’re hopeless. A hopeless romantic.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s…it’s…” But for the first time in, well, history, Cristina seemed to run out of words.

* * *

Their first call of the day came in for a large fire in a warehouse across from the wharf, and all units responded.

By the time Zach and Aidan pulled up, black smoke stretched hundreds of feet into the blue sky like a vicious storm cloud, and the chief was setting up the ICS-Incident Command System. The street was a chaotic mess, making it difficult to get close, but the police were working on directing the civilians out and the fire units in.

Word had come through that there were several people trapped in the warehouse, and Zach eyed the inferno critically. “Not good.”

“Going to be tricky,” Aidan agreed as they pulled out their equipment.

The chief sent a group of them to the south side of the building, where the missing people had last been seen. Sam, Eddie, Cristina and Blake manned the hoses, while Aidan and Zach prepared to enter the building.

“Now,” Blake yelled from the rig, gesturing them in as the gang beat back the flames.

Aidan and Zach went in together, immediately choking on the thick, unrelenting smoke in spite of their protective masks. Visibility was ten feet at first. But only a few yards in, that was cut in half.

“You see red?” Aidan yelled.

“No, but I hear popping like Rice Krispies, so it’s coming.” In fact, it was earsplitting.

They had no idea where their victims were so Aidan gestured for Zach to go left, and he’d go right. About twenty feet down the dark, smoky hall, Zach heard a woman screaming. “Got one,” he said via radio to Aidan, pounding on the doors as he went, stopping at the one from behind which came the screaming.

The wood was hot to the touch.

A door opened behind Zach, and as he turned, a man stumbled right into his surprised arms.

“Claire,” the man gasped, and fought to get past Zach. “I hear her, I have to get to Claire!”

The guy was half-unconscious, and the size of a linebacker, an overweight linebacker. Zach gripped him tight, completely supporting his weight. Clearly the guy couldn’t go after anyone in his condition. Hell, he couldn’t even walk on his own. “You’re not going anywhere-”

“I’ve got to get to Claire! Claire, it’s me, Bob! I’m coming!”

“I’ll get her.”

“No, I-” That’s all Bob got out before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he slumped to the floor, a dead weight.

Zach hunkered down to sling him over his shoulder, but Bob suddenly came to life, and with what seemed like superhuman strength, grabbed his ankle and tugged.

Zach hit the floor hard.

“Claire!” Bellowing, Bob crawled over him toward the office door.

Zach rolled and managed to hold him down. “You can’t go in there. You don’t have a mask. I’m taking you out-”

Good old Bob slugged Zach in the gut.

Zach absorbed the blow, using precious oxygen as he got the guy in a choke hold just as the ceiling began crashing down in flaming chunks, one narrowly missing the man’s head, and only because Zach yanked him out of the way. “You’re wasting time! Wait here-”

“No!” Bob charged for the door, but on the way there, a huge piece of burning tile fell, hitting him hard enough to slam him to the ground, where he finally was still.

Great. Now Zach had to get Bob out and to medical help before he could go for Claire, whose screams were already fading.

Calm but furious, Zach hoisted the man up in the classic fireman’s hold and made his way back down the hallway. Luckily, Aidan met him halfway. “Take him,” Zach directed. “I’m going back for the woman.”

“We’ve got orders to get out now. The roof’s unstable.”

No shit. “I can get to her quick.” Hands free, Zach turned back. The smoke was even thicker now, pouring in through the walls, making it seem like night. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.

But worse, Claire was no longer screaming.

Then Eddie and Sam showed up, their lights barely cutting through the darkness. “Zach! Out of here!”

“I know-hold on!” He opened the office door. Behind him he heard Eddie and Sam yelling into their radios for lines of water to come through the office windows and the roof. They were going to get their asses kicked for breaking protocol, but Zach had never been so happy to see them in his life. “Claire!” he yelled as flames roared out the door, right at them, attracted by the new source of oxygen.

From outside, the hoses beat the flames back enough for them to move in; they found Claire crumpled on the floor beneath a desk. Zach dropped down and pulled her toward him. With Eddie flanking one side and Sam the other, he carried her into the hallway, where they were shoved back by flames coming from both directions now.

“Go back the way you came!” came the chief’s voice via radio. “Out the way you came!”

They wouldn’t make it. They needed a faster way-the office windows. But they couldn’t get to them without hoses.

“Do it,” Blake shouted into their radio. “I’m on the roof, I’ll cover you.”

Shocked, they all looked up, and through the burning ceiling, they could see an arc of water coming through.

Blake.

“Hurry!” he yelled down to them. “Move it!”

Eddie went out the window first, straddling the ledge, reaching back for Claire. Sam went next. Waiting until the ladder cleared, Zach took one last look over his shoulder at the flames rushing them, but Blake still had his back.

“Go,” Blake shouted as the ceiling started to cave.

“Jesus, Blake!” Zach’s heart stopped. “Get back!”

“I will when you’re out-”

But a thundering shudder silenced them both. Zach made to leap for the ladder, but the ceiling crashed down. As he yelled Blake’s name, everything went black.

* * *

“Two firefighters are down,” Dustin said grimly, setting down the radio.

Brooke’s heart stopped. “Oh my God. Who?”

Dustin didn’t meet her eyes.

She grabbed his sleeve. “Who?”

“Blake and Zach.” He grimaced, but tried to sound reassuring. “Don’t worry, they’ll get them out.”

“Ohmigod, they’re trapped?”

The male victim Aidan had carried out was sitting on the curb holding an ice pack to his head, and at this news, he moaned. “It’s my fault. I freaked out. And now Claire’s trapped in there, too.”

“She’s out,” Dustin told him. “She’s in the ambulance, where you should be.”

“Oh, thank God.” The man surged to his feet, grabbing Brooke’s hand, his eyes wet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-”

She shook her head. “You need to sit down-”

“No, I’m fine. I’m just so damn sorry-”

Dustin brought him to Claire, while Brooke stared up at the building, which was a virtual inferno.

Zach was in there.

She took a step toward it but Dustin was back, blocking her path. “What are you doing?”

“I need to get closer.”

“You’re not a firefighter. And we’re hospital-bound, Brooke. Two vics, remember? It’s our job.”