Page 11 of The Smokejumper’s Lady (Praise Me Like Fire #1)

Ryan

The first thing I register is pain.

A dull, full-body throb that starts in my chest and radiates outward like an echo. My head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, my mouth is dry as ash, and there’s a sharp sting in my throat every time I try to breathe too deep.

Then…light.

Too damn bright.

I squint against it, groaning, and a blurry shape appears in front of me. A silhouette. Dark hair. Petite. Moving toward me.

“Clea?” I rasp, my voice barely a whisper. My heart kicks like a wild thing in my chest.

I try to lift my arm, to reach for her, but it’s like moving through wet cement.

She’s here. She came.

But then the voice pierces my subconscious. It’s calm, professional.

“Mr. Lewis? Can you hear me?”

My vision sharpens cruelly.

It’s not her.

The woman in front of me isn’t Clea. She’s got the same dark hair, but it’s pulled into a neat bun, and she’s wearing a white coat. A stethoscope swings from her neck. Behind her, a nurse is scribbling notes on a chart.

I blink slowly. “You’re not…damn.”

The doctor smiles sympathetically. “Sorry to disappoint. I’m Dr. Haley. You’re at Flathead Medical. You’ve been out for a little over a day.”

A day?

I try to sit up, and pain shoots through my chest like a hot iron. I grit my teeth.

“Easy,” she says, stepping forward. “You inhaled a dangerous amount of smoke. We had to give you oxygen and fluids. Your chart looks good now, but you’ll need rest.”

I nod slowly, absorbing the words. It’s a miracle I’m not worse off. That whole drop…it was hell. The kind you only survive if someone upstairs decides it’s not your time yet.

“What about the others?” I ask, throat raw. “My team. Unit 347.”

She nods reassuringly. “They’re all stable. A few minor burns and bruises, some smoke inhalation like you, but everyone’s alive.”

Relief crashes over me so hard I have to close my eyes. Thank God.

She pats my hand gently. “Try to rest. You’ve done more than enough.”

Then she’s gone, leaving the room too quiet. Too still.

My mind drifts, immediately, to Clea.

Did she see the news?

Did she think I was—

God.

I close my eyes and picture her face. The last time I saw her, she was being pulled away, her face a storm of hurt and fear and that quiet, breaking kind of strength I’ve never seen in anyone before. She didn’t cry. But I know she wanted to.

She told me her parents were tough. Controlling. But I didn’t realize just how much they’d been breaking her spirit until I saw her flinch when her dad raised his voice.

I should’ve run after her. Told her everything I was thinking. Everything I felt.

That I’d never let anyone hurt her again.

That she’s mine .

Instead, I played it cool. Told myself it wasn’t the right time.

I’m a goddamn idiot.

I know now that there’s no “right time.” There’s only time, and it runs out faster than we think.

As soon as I’m back on my feet, I’m going to find her. I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care who I have to go through. Clea’s not just a summer fling. She’s the spark I didn’t know I needed. The one who cracked through my quiet, grumpy armor and made me feel alive again.

A soft knock pulls me out of my spiral.

I turn toward the door, half expecting another nurse or maybe a chaplain ready to ask how I feel about God.

Instead, the door swings open and she’s standing right there. In front of my eyes.

“Clea…?”

Hair windblown. Eyes wide and red-rimmed. Still the most beautiful damn thing I’ve ever seen.

She doesn’t say a word, just rushes across the room and throws herself into my arms, careful not to crush the wires and tubes but clearly not giving a damn either.

I hold her like I’ve been waiting a lifetime.

“Jesus, Clea,” I whisper into her hair. “You’re really here.”

“I thought…” Her voice breaks as she pulls back just enough to look at me. “I thought I lost you.”

Tears track down her cheeks, and I brush them away with my fingers.

“You didn’t,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here.”

And then I kiss her. And she kisses me back, her lips warm and trembling against mine. I pull back after a while, tugging her into the bed with me, wrapping my arms around her and holding her like I never want to let go. Because I don’t.

“I missed you so damn much,” I murmur against her mouth.

She sniffles, laughing through tears. “I missed you too. I was so scared.”

“Shhh,” I say, tucking her into my chest. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’ve got you now.”

She curls into me, and for a while, we just breathe.

Then, I tilt her chin up so she has no choice but to look me in the eye.

“I love you,” I say quietly, holding my breath.

Her lips part, and I see the exact moment my words settle deep in her heart.

“I love you so much, Clea. I didn’t know it could feel like this, but fuck—I can’t imagine life without you now.”

She smiles, teary-eyed but radiant. “I feel the same.”

I grin, then wince when it stretches too much. “Ow.”

“Careful, smoke jumper.”

“Only if you promise not to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time in a long time, a quiet peace settles in my heart, the kind that only comes with finding your person.

Clea pulls back slowly, her hands drifting to my chest. I watch her eyes sweep over me like she’s checking for burns or missing limbs.

Brows drawn tight in concentration. Her fingers brush along my jaw, then down to the monitor clipped to my finger, then to the IV taped to my arm.

Her touch is soft, hesitant, like she’s scared I might disappear if she presses too hard.

“You’re really here,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

I can’t help but smile. “I could get used to being fussed over like this.”

Her gaze snaps up, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’m feeling very cared for right now.”

She huffs, but the sound is half laugh, half sob. “I just needed to be sure. After what I saw on the news…”

“I know,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I thought you were gone.”

“I’m not.” I tighten my hold on her waist. “Thanks to a stubborn streak and a lot of dumb luck, I’m still here. And I’m even better now that you’re here too.”

She exhales, trembling just a little. Then she looks down at me, lips parted, eyes still wet but full of something new, something hot and aching. Desire, raw and unfiltered.

“You’re really okay?” she asks, one more time.

I nod, slow and deliberate. “Never been better.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then I lean in close, lowering my voice. “Well…almost.”

Her brows lift. “Almost?”

“There is one thing,” I murmur, brushing my mouth against her jaw. “A tiny little fix.”

Her breath hitches. “What is it? I’ll do anything.”

“Go lock the door.”

She blinks. Then blushes, then giggles. That sweet, wild sound spills out of her as she scrambles off the bed and tiptoes to the door like we’re teenagers sneaking around. She flips the lock with a soft click, glancing back at me over her shoulder with a wicked glint in her eye.

“Done,” she says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Get over here.”

She climbs back into the bed, straddling my hips with slow, deliberate movements. Her hands press against my chest, and I bite back a groan at the contact, pain and pleasure twisting together in the best kind of way.

“You sure you’re up for this?” she teases, running her fingers under the hem of my hospital gown.

“Sweetheart,” I growl, gripping her hips, “I’ve been through fire and hell in the last forty-eight hours. I’d flatline happily if this was the last thing I did.”

She bites her lip and leans down, her lips brushing mine, soft and slow. “Not letting you flatline on me, hero. I’ve got plans for you.”

Then she surprises me by sliding down my body, her intentions clear when her hands slide under the thin sheet covering me, tugging at the waistband of my hospital-issue pants. I hiss through my teeth as she frees me, her small, clever hands wrapping around me like she owns me.

God, she does.

She licks her lips at the sight of my hard cock.

“You sure, baby?” I ask.

She grins. “I mean, I’ve never done this before, but…I’ve been wanting to taste you for days now.”

Fuck . “Well, don’t let me stop you.” I shift my hips to get closer to her face, groaning at the slight pain the movement brings.

“Only if you promise to stay still,” she scolds me, smirking.

She bends over me and licks tentatively at the tip. I shudder at the sensation, and she swirls her tongue around the head, enjoying the game of finding out what makes me react the most. And my girl is brave, so it isn’t long before she’s sliding me deep into her mouth, bobbing up and down.

I tilt my head back and groan. “Fuck, sweetheart, yes. Just like that.”

It takes everything in me to hold still, my hips aching to thrust up into her, but I settle for the sight of those perfect lips wrapped around me.

She might not have done this before, but she somehow knows exactly what she’s doing.

Pleasure builds quickly, and soon I thread my fingers through her dark hair, gently pulling her off of me.

She looks up at me, confused. “Was that not okay?”

I chuckle. “Baby, that was so good. But I don’t wanna come in your mouth this time.”

She flushes prettily, and eagerly climbs up my body, careful to be gentle with my various injuries as she straddles me.

I slide my hands under her dress only to discover she’s not wearing anything underneath.

My chest clams up as an overwhelming lust hits me in the guts.

I tug her down harder against me, slipping a finger inside her.

Her breath shudders as I let out an appreciative groan.

She’s so wet…so hot…so damn ready for me.

Her hips rock against mine, slow and deliberate, making my whole body light up like I’m back in the fire again.

“Clea,” I whisper, “you drive me crazy.”

She grins against my mouth. “That’s the idea.”

She sinks down slowly, taking me inch by inch, eyes locked on mine, mouth parted in a moan so quiet and filthy I nearly lose it right there. My hands fist the sheets as I try to hold still, to not buck up into her too hard.

“Fuck,” I groan. “You feel like heaven.”

She rolls her hips, her rhythm slow and torturous. My hands grip her thighs, bruising her with how hard I’m holding on. Every stroke, every breath, every flicker of her lashes has me on the verge of losing control.

I wrap one arm around her lower back and pull her flush against my chest. Our lips meet again, tongues sliding together, breath mingling.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door.

We both freeze.

“Everything okay in there?” a voice chirps. The nurse’s voice. Too damn cheerful.

Clea claps a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh.

I stare at the door, then back at her. “Don’t you dare move.” I thrust up into her for emphasis.

“I’m not,” she whispers, breathless, gasping and grinding against me. “I’m staying right here.”

“Mr. Lewis?” the nurse calls again. “You need anything?”

“All good,” I call out, my voice strained. “Just…getting some much-needed cardio.”

There’s a long pause. Then a little chuckle. “Alright then. Buzz if you need a towel.”

Once the sound of footsteps fades away, Clea collapses onto my chest in a fit of laughter. I join her, wrapping both arms around her trembling body.

After our laughter dies down, she props herself up with a wicked grin. Her hair’s wild, her cheeks flushed, and she’s still wrapped around me like we’re fused together. If anything, our little interruption has only made her wetter, and I haven’t softened in the least.

“You were saying something about cardio?” she murmurs, her hips giving the smallest, slowest roll that makes my entire body tense.

“I swear to God,” I growl, tightening my grip on her waist, “you’re gonna make me lose my mind.”

“That’s the goal, isn’t it?” She smirks and plants her hands on my chest, starting to move again, slow at first, teasing, then deeper, faster, her body rolling in perfect rhythm with mine.

The sheet slips lower on my hips, barely covering us now. If anyone walks in, there’s no mistaking what we’re doing.

And I couldn’t care less.

“Look at you,” I rasp, watching her ride me like she owns me, like she knows she can take anything she wants from me and I’ll gladly give it. “You’re so fucking pretty like this. All mine.”

“All yours,” she echoes, eyes half-lidded as her hands trail up to her own chest, fingers tugging at the neckline of her dress until one breast spills free. She cups it, just to torment me. I groan and sit up slightly, dragging my tongue across her nipple until she gasps.

“I should tie you up,” I whisper against her skin. “You’re a tease.”

Her laugh is breathless, shaky. “So do it.”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

My hand finds its way to the back of her neck and I hold her in place, kissing her rougher now, deeper. Her moans vibrate against my mouth, her hips slamming down harder with each pass. She’s in control, but only because I’m allowing it. And she knows it. That’s part of the thrill.

Her nails dig into my shoulders. “You’re not supposed to be moving,” she pants. “You’re recovering…”

“I’ll recover later.”

My hand drifts between us, fingers finding the spot that makes her fall apart. I stroke her in time with her movements, and she whimpers, forehead pressed to mine.

“Ryan—”

“Let go for me,” I murmur. “Come all over me, baby. You’ve earned it.”

She lets out a broken cry, clenching around me, pulsing and gasping as she falls apart in my arms. Watching her unravel, hearing her cry my name like that…

I don’t stand a chance. I hold her close, driving into her one last time as heat floods through me and my entire body tightens.

I shudder beneath her, arms wrapped tight around her trembling back.

We’re both panting, dazed, sweat-slicked and satisfied.

“Best hospital visit ever,” I murmur.

She laughs, breathless and glowing. “I’m telling your nurse you need round-the-clock monitoring.”

“She won’t last a shift.”

Clea kisses me again, sweet and slow this time. I can taste the smile on her lips. I press a hand to her back and hold her there, not letting go just yet.

Because this right here?

This is everything I never knew I needed.