Search and Rescue

Search and Rescue

The acrid smell of smoke and charred wood still clung to Braden when she greeted him at the door. He slung his overnight duffel off his shoulder and onto the floor before reaching for her. His embrace was crushing. Caitlyn struggled to breathe as his arms constricted her and a tremble shuddered through his burly frame. An icy stab of panic pierced her heart, her hands roaming over him in search of injury.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, his voice breaking. “Lyle . . .”

Taking his hand, she led him to the couch. Sinking onto the edge, Braden’s powerful body hunched over as he buried his face in his hands. His fingers raked through his hair making dark tufts stand on end.

“He didn’t make it, Caity. The roof . . . we  . . . got him out. He wasn’t breathing. It wasn’t . . . we weren’t fast enough,” he trailed off, shaking his head.

Heart breaking, Caitlyn rubbed soothing circles against his back. She felt selfish, but she couldn’t help feeling relieved knowing her husband was one of the lucky ones who’d made it home—this time. Fear was a constant companion, reminding her that one day, she might not be so fortunate. Every shift could be Braden’s last, every bell a final toll. She had nightmares about that dreaded red car pulling up outside their apartment; they jarred her awake with very real tears streaming down her cheeks. Today, Lyle’s family shed those bitter tears, as did his fire brothers and sisters.

“This isn’t supposed to happen . . .”

But it did, and there was nothing she could say to change that. Wrapping her arms around him, she held Braden close, doing her best to offer what little comfort she could. After a few moments, he lifted his head. Tears slid down the broad planes of his face as he folded her in a tight embrace. Wet remnants of his pain clung to her cheek. His big hands stroked her hair.

“I love you so much, Caity Bug.”

“I love you too, Brae.”

“I need you,” he whispered, capturing her lips in a kiss full of passion and grief.

Sweeping her off the couch, he stood. Their lips never broke contact on the way to the bedroom. Not even when he laid her on the bed. Determined hands shoved her dress over her hips, and she swallowed Braden’s ragged moan as he rubbed a finger along her slit. Wet and eager, she rocked against his hand, clawing the CFD shirt off his shoulders while he struggled to kick free of his pants.

Caitlyn caressed the strong column of his arms as he positioned himself above her. A breathless scream tore from her throat when he filled and stretched her body with a claiming thrust. Her back bowed off the bed as Braden drove into her, a primal snarl of ownership stamped on his face. Her fists curled around the sheets, the harsh slap of their bodies filling the room. He was drowning his grief, and she was drowning in him. Being with Braden was like gasping for air after being under water for too long: delirious, dizzying, frantic—she could never get enough. He stabbed into her time and again, his rhythm deep, hard, and steady. It didn’t take long for pulsing waves of pleasure to build in her core. She whimpered, hips arching to meet his.

“No, Caity,” he groaned against her ear. “Hold it.”

She bit her lip. Her body trembled with strain, wanting so much to please him. Braden continued his merciless assault, each powerful plunge grazing the sweet spot that threatened to explode. Her fingers tightened, a surprised cry breaking from her lips when he seized her hair with a forceful tug.

“Not . . . yet . . . not yet,” he panted.

“Pleeeassee.”

She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Her entire body tensed with the desperate need for release. Caitlyn searched for something, anything to distract her, but all she was aware of was him: drilling, stroking, battering, the sear of his lips on her skin. She held her breath until the room spun, knowing if she so much as exhaled, she would lose the fragile thread of control.

“Now!”

The forceful command, the deep growl of his voice against her ear; Caitlyn’s world fractured, her entire body bursting into pleasure. She cried out, twisting beneath him as everything faded and floated away.

She opened her eyes to find Braden lying next to her on his side. Dazed, she attempted a weak smile. His pale green eyes sparkled as they gazed into hers and he planted a kiss against her sweaty forehead. One big paw lifted to stroke her cheek, brushing damp strands of chestnut hair off her face.

“You were wonderful. Good girl, Caity Bug,” he murmured. “Very good girl.”

He rolled onto his back, drawing her into the familiar juncture of his shoulder. Listening to the slowing drum of Braden’s heart, the heart of a warrior, she prayed hers never beat a day past his. Life was so fleeting, precious, never guaranteed.

Honor the fallen; long live the heroes and the brave.


~WC 869


Written for: "The Weekly Quickie Contest" 
Prompt: Give me a story about one of the brave souls that protect and serve our country. Military, Police Officers, or Fire Fighters.

For those interested, here is a wonderful tribute to the brave men and women who risk all to save our lives and protect our property.  {link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gO9yVs4aIP4&playnext=1&list=PLDC49541C0A3EE0...}