How?
“You drooled over her like a man looking at his last meal. So, cut the bullshit. It’s obvious you want her.”
Mike conjured an image of long blonde hair draped over his chest. The same vision that haunted his dreams. Whether he was awake or asleep, Cassie occupied his mind. Her feminine curves pressed between his muscled thighs. Lust pounded in his groin the way it did every time he thought of her. He forced her vision away before he drowned in his own desire.
Jared punched him on the shoulder. “You got it bad, man. Either find—shit! Look at that!”
Up ahead, a vehicle lie sprawled on its side in the middle of the road. Flames creeped from under the hood and a stream of smoke spiraled upward.
“Christ. Pull over.”
“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?” Jared snapped.
When the truck jerked to a stop, Mike grabbed the handle and flung open the door. “There’s gear in the back.”
Jared called dispatch while Mike ran to the tailgate. He flipped the latch and jerked open the tool chest where he kept spare equipment for emergencies. He grabbed a set of fireproof gloves and jogged to the burning SUV. “Move those people back!” Flames threatened to send them all to hell, but a woman’s echoing screams chilled him to his bones.
“This is going to be a bitch with the truck on its side,” Jared shouted.
The job would be risky enough even with a fire crew and proper equipment. They couldn’t wait. Mike grabbed a hunk of metal and jerked. The vehicle wobbled, but held. Watching his footing, he climbed.
Jared crouched as close to the driver’s window as he could, calling out to the woman. “We’re with the fire department. Trucks and rescue will be here any second. We’re going to get you out.”
Mike crawled over the metal, now hot from the flames escaping beneath the hood. Thankfully, the window on the passenger’s side was down. He stuck his head inside, finding a young female he guessed to be about nineteen.
“Hi. My name is Mike and I’m going to get you out. What’s your name?”
“Sandy. Please help me.” She shoved hair from her face, exposing terror filled eyes—but not panic. Victims who panicked were unpredictable, and most times, a dangerous lot. Fatalities occurred from freaked-out people who lost control. The tone of her voice exhibited strength. She might be anxious, but she’d asked for his help and her eyes begged him to rescue her.
“I will. Now listen carefully and do exactly what I say.” He took in every factor, from the top of her head to the bits of broken glass sprinkled about the cab—on the seats, on the dash and across her lap. Thank Christ, she was the only occupant. Blood trickled down her forehead. From his position, and the way she moved, he suspected no broken bones, no sign of a fatal injury. “First. Are you all right? Can you tell if anything is broken?”
She glanced down and whimpered. “I don’t think so. My hip and my arm hurts like hell. I slammed on my side. I hit my head, too. All I can see is smoke. Please. Get me out!”
“Take it easy.” He crawled inside, as far as his size allowed, with most of his body braced on the car door. “Can you move?”
She stretched awkwardly at first. “Yes. But I can’t reach the latch of my seatbelt.”
Shit.
The clock was ticking and he didn’t have time for mishaps. He jerked off his gloves and tugged on the seatbelt strap. It didn’t budge.
“Try pulling on the steering wheel and lift your hips. Hold yourself up as much as you can.”
She grabbed the wheel and seemed unable to move. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she started to cry.
“Come on, Sandy. I know you can do it.” Sweat dripped from his nose. Heat from the flames crawled closer and he feared time was running out.
The click of the latch resounded like a gunshot to his impatient ears. He reached for her. “Take my hands. I’ll pull you up.”
A look of horror crossed her face. “What? How? I don’t …”
“Move it,” Jared shouted, which meant move your ass.
“Take my hands. Now!”
When she extended her trembling arms, Mike stretched. “A little more.”
Tears streamed down her face. “I’m … trying.”