by Harloe Rae
A piercing scream blasts out of me before I’m dragged under again. Numbing tendrils twirl around my limbs and leave me paralyzed with shock. Remaining frozen will only assist the chill in burrowing deeper, but this battle isn’t mine to win.
Survival tip #21: A buoy can always come in handy. The purposes are endless.
I’ll never forget the splattering crash of Blakely’s body hitting the water. All noise is sucked into a vacuum as she screeches from the impact. Watching the woman responsible for restoring my beating heart thrash in the river is detrimental to all brain functioning. This helpless feeling seeps into me, more painful than a dull blade stabbing into my ribcage.
The air wheezes out of me on a strangled groan. I’m ashamed to admit that my legs remain rooted to the ground for several precious seconds. Fangs of fear puncture every part of me—ruthless and unrelenting. That paralyzing sensation is greater than any trauma the past five years have granted. A shattering wail cracks through my trance, jump-starting my system into action mode.
With a deafening splash, I join her in the river. The bite of cold doesn’t faze me. My sole focus is Blakely’s flailing figure. I fight against the current that’s desperate to tame me while viciously tugging at my clothes. The beast roaring inside will show no mercy. I tear through the rapids, possessed and set on one target. She’s hoisted within the security of my clutches moments later. Even soaking wet, her weight is barely noticeable against the adrenaline pumping within me.
Blakely sputters and coughs in my hold. The sight of her plump lips tinged with purple is worse than a ton of bricks landing in my gut. I touch my forehead to hers, a cool pinch seeping into me on contact. “I got you, Lee. You’re okay.”
Her only response is a pitiful groan.
“You’ll be warm soon, sweetheart. Just stay with me.”
I scan our surroundings for any semblance of cover. A jagged overhang snags my gaze and I start running. A surge propels me onward at blurring speed. I stumble over a gnarled log and Blakely scrambles in my arms with a whimper. On sheer instinct, I tighten my grip while sprinting faster. My pulse races faster with each pounding footfall.
When the divot of a cavern comes into view, I almost crash to my knees again. That slight alcove will provide a bit of wind resistance. The carved shape is narrow and short, but any hollow shell is better than being unprotected in the elements in our present condition. I dash inside the shadowed space and kneel in the loose dirt. The soil seems soft enough to cushion her, all things considered, but she’ll need far more padding. Our sleeping bag and tarp are still by the river. I settle her on the ground while considering the distance, but she makes my choice easy by latching onto my forearms. Those luxuries will have to wait. I want her to be comfortable, but that seems impossible while she’s dripping with fringes of frost. The risk of hypothermia hovers too close over her shivering form.
Blakely curls into a ball against my legs, vibrating with the chill plaguing her. Dark hair is plastered to her blue-tinged complexion. That stark contrast sends another burst of pressure through me. I rip at my clothes like the fabric is on fire. Any wet portions get flipped inside out so those sections aren’t wasted. She needs all of the available scraps I can offer.
Once my layers are stripped off, I begin tugging at hers. The soggy material slips in my hasty movements. I exhale through flared nostrils and force myself to slow the sloppy urgency barreling into me. Once she’s free of those clinging barriers, I gather her against my dry torso. I hiss at the instant snap of cold stealing my warmth as she burrows into me. Any semblance of a surface ache pales in comparison to what she’s dealing with. After slinging my coat and two shirts around her exposed backside, I seal our bare front halves in seamless fusion. Almost as an afterthought, my ski pants and jeans get draped over the top of us for extra insulation.
I scour her for further injury, but my vision is consumed with red. Blakely’s flesh is pebbled with goosebumps in a ruby hue. I rub her blotchy skin with vigor. She moans and struggles against my aggressive efforts.
“You need to warm up. Don’t fight me, Lee.”
Icy fingers dig into the bulk of my shoulder and pull me into her trembling body. She tries to tell me something, but her words are a jumble. Her teeth are chattering hard enough to steal intelligible speech.
“Shh, you’re okay. This is good heat, I promise.” I press my lips to her damp cheek. Every inch of her is cool and clammy, tinged with the worst shade of blue I’ve ever seen. She’s clinging to me with a desperation I feel drilling into my bones. She has to be all right. I can’t lose her. Not when I finally have her by my side and am just beginning to discover the love she spurs inside of me. The mere idea of that emotion stops me short, but now isn’t the time for overanalyzing.
I double my friction efforts to force her circulation to cooperate. “We have to get your blood pumping.”
“It hurts,” she sobs. A single tear escapes the corner of her eye, racing downward as if escaping the site of pain.
The vision of that glistening trail is a sledgehammer to my shin. Fuck, that’s a colossal understatement. “I don’t doubt it, sweetheart. But you’re safe now.”
“Am I hurt?” Another tear follows the first.
I nudge my head along hers with a soft shake. “Nothing serious. Your skull almost bashed into a rock, and I blacked out for a second in panic. It’s a moment I never want to relive. Dammit, Lee. Please don’t scare me like that again.”
“Didn’t do it on purpose.” Her voice is little more than a squeak.
“I’m carrying you from now on.”
She nods into the column of my throat. “I won’t argue.”
The tension coiling in my muscles eases slightly at that. “Thank fuck for that.” I scrub a palm over my filthy mouth. “Sorry. I’m all outta sorts.”
“You’re forgiven.” Her lips twitch at the edges. “What’s with the new nickname?”
“Lee?”
“That’s the one.”
Prickles attack my nape and I fight the urge to fidget. “Just popped out, I guess. I’ll drop it.”
Her nails dig into me. “No, I like it.”
“Well, all right. How do you feel?” I resume alternating between rubbing and massaging for friction.
“Better, but I’m so cold,” she whimpers.
With a glance over my shoulder, I search our outer surroundings for the river. “I can grab the sleeping bag. It’ll take me less than two minutes.”
“You’re going to freeze, Halder.” Her chin trembles from the effort of talking.
I scoff at her concern. If only she could feel how hot my blood is boiling. Shame makes my skin sizzle with another blast of heat. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“I find that extremely hard to believe.”
After dropping a kiss to her pout, I roll away and tuck the clothes around her. She’s not wrong about the cold nipping my ass. The instant I’m separated from her, a blast slams into me, and I almost change my mind. But the idea of her suffering for one moment longer than necessary is enough motivation to slip my boots on. I take off at a sprint without further hesitation.
The bags are exactly where I threw them in the snow. I scoop up the bundles, whip out the bedding, and wrap the flannel interior around me to warm up the fabric. Then I’m running again. Steam puffs from my mouth with each harsh exhale. There’s no doubt I sound like a damn freight train carrying a wide load. Blakely pokes her head out of the pile of stuff she’s buried under when I approach.
“How long did I take?”
She holds up her bare wrist for inspection. “Just over the minute mark.”
“Better than I predicted.” I keep all hints of gloating from my tone.
“Impressive as always,” she muses with a hum.
She earns a wink for that. I spread the sleeping bag over her shivering form. “Okay, sit tight. I need to build a fire.”
“What?” She props herself up on a bent elbow. “Are you crazy?”
A smirk cuts across my mouth. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Well, that’s a crime. Similar to standing there, too far away from me, when I need your body heat.”
“Just a couple more minutes,” I assure.
“But you’re not wearing any clothes.”
“Splitting wood will get me overheated in minutes. Then I can share the warmth with you.”
“Oh.” A blush that’s most definitely not due to the cold floods her face. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Thought so. Plus, your clothes need to dry properly or they’ll be useless blocks. We need to thaw the ice in our veins, too.”
Blakely flops down into her clothing fort. “Ugh, you’re too wise and stubborn.”
“And you’re at risk for hypothermia and frostbite.”
“Fine,” she relents.
I spin on my heel and stride to the nearest tree, hatchet in hand. There’s not a second wasted as I hack through several branches. My pride keeps me in motion, but the temperature howls without mercy. I’m a careless fool, allowing the need for redemption to rule over welfare. Proving myself to be deserving and noble is bound to be the catalyst that ends me. The frigid claws scratch at my itchy skin, and I can’t go much longer without risking myself. With me in rough shape, Blakely will suffer a greater feat. That’s enough for me to quit while I’m still able to walk. I get enough logs cut to last a few hours at most. Within minutes, a fire is crackling by the mouth of our den while the prickling beneath my flesh still stings. The final task I manage is arranging her wet clothes near the growing flames.
“Hey.” I practically collapse onto the ground beside her.
Blakely places a palm onto my chest, but immediately recoils. “You’re an ice cube.”
I grind my molars at the displeasure in her voice. “Took a bit longer that time. I’m sorry to leave you waiting.”
“Stop apologizing.” The scold ignites a flare in my veins.
“Force of habit,” I mutter.
“One I intend to break.”
“If you’re planning to stick with me that long, I have hope it might happen.” But good fucking luck. The day that compulsion leaves me rests in the very distant future. Admitting that will only double Blakey’s efforts to absolve me. I cinch my arms around her, eliminating the static air between us.
She inspects my arms with wandering fingers. “And you’re bleeding.”
I follow the path of her touch. Numerous scratches crisscross along my upper body. The bisecting wounds might be responsible for some of the pain I’m in. A shrug lifts one of my shoulders. “Just surface scrapes. You’re in real danger of getting sick, sweetheart.”
“Maybe I should take this as a hint. I was overdue for a shower,” she jokes.
“Bathing is not a priority in captivity.”
Blakely frowns. “Is that what this is?”
“To some degree. We’re locked in the wilderness until further notice.”
An arch of her slim brow. “Touché.”
I snake a hand up her spine, following the trail of goosebumps on my return down. “You’re getting warmer, or my numbness is lifting.”
She flutters her lashes with a sigh. “I’m guessing it’s both.”
I allow my palm to continue drifting along the silk of her curves. “You’re feeling better?”
“Much, thanks to you.”
A lump swells in my throat. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.”
“We don’t need to think about that.” She presses a feather-soft kiss to my lips.
My eyes nearly cross at the velvety sensation comforting me. “You should rest.”
“I’m not tired.”
“You need to conserve energy.” When I try to put space between us, she halts my retreat with a curled palm against my nape.
She scoots closer, bumping our hips together. Ignoring the blaze gaining steam below my waist is proving to be a massive fail. The soft hitch in her breath tells me that she’s found just how hard this position is making me. Against every decent intention within me, I return her subtle movements. A barely-there brush of my briefs against her panties is plenty. Her gasp indicates that my length is making an impression. I can’t imagine the greeting is welcome at this point. This isn’t an appropriate time to be aroused, but my overly eager dick isn’t getting the memo.
I clench my eyes shut with a groan. “I’m sorry, Blakely. If I could stop this reaction—”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she interrupts. “How could I mind?”
“You could’ve drowned. Being turned on right now makes me feel like a scumbag. The last thing I should be thinking about is sex.”
She brushes the pads of her fingers across my collarbone. “I’d be offended if you weren’t.”
The hinges of my jaw release with a harsh exhale. “Really?”
Blakely scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Well, yeah. I’m practically naked and pressed against you. Last night was tame compared to this. You were raring to go from lying next to me when we were fully dressed.”
Bile rises in my throat, shedding a few degrees off the blistering desire. I drop my hands from their resting place near her ass. “Shit, I’m an inconsiderate asshole. Why aren’t you pushing me away? I’m practically foaming at the mouth for a chance at feeling you up, under any circumstances.”
“You’re the furthest thing from that. I’m the opposite of bothered. Trust me,” she whispers into the crook of my neck.
I squeeze my hands into trembling fists. A spiral of desperation swirls to reckless speeds in my gut. “I wish there was a better excuse, but I honestly can’t seem to control myself.”
“Five years is a long time,” she purrs. Her fingers walk up my pecs, the muscles flexing under the sensual touch.
My tongue expands three sizes too big, and I sputter a mumbled curse. “What’re you doing, Blakely?” Other than chasing off the last of my control?
“We should end our dry spell.” It looks like she plans to add more, but her lips press shut.
“You just went through a very traumatic experience.” I force that reminder through a haze of strangling hunger.
She plays with the ends of my shaggy hair, adding a tug for heightened awareness that spikes me into overdrive. “That was at least an hour ago. I’m all better now, remember?”
“You’re still fragile and at risk of getting sick.”
Blakely gives me a stern glare. “No, I’m in great shape. Far better than I would be with anyone else. That’s because of you and your determination to keep us alive. Nothing you do is bad, Halder. Sleeping with you will make me very warm and relaxed. Isn’t that what you want?”
Oh, she’s good. Prodding at my weakness and obsessive need to protect her. “I want you to be safe and protected by any means necessary. That includes all filthy intentions, mine are tossed in the same gutter. You’re already dipping into reserve tanks. I don’t want to add more stress to your system.”
She grinds into me, taking a sledgehammer to what little remains of my resolve. “What if crossing those lines with you will make me very happy?”
I clutch her rotating hips with sloppy hands. “Damn, sweetheart. You’re breaking my willpower.”
Blakely ghosts an exhale along the line of my jaw. “Yet you’re still resisting. Should I beg?”
The idea of her pleading for anything is inconceivable, especially from me. I secure my hold on her, dragging us impossibly closer. “That won’t be necessary.”
Survival tip #22: There’s no need for second guessing if the outcome offers a reward.
After unlocking those remaining shackles of doubt, I lean in and erase an inch of lingering distance. My exhale clouds the heat between us. Blakely tips her chin, bringing us within mere centimeters. The tease of what waits on the other side urges me on with a shove. She digs her nails into my arm as leverage to align us into a seamless entity. I still stave off the dire thirst climbing up my throa
t. Hanging by this invisible thread is all for hype as my pulse stabs a ferocious beat. Is that boom loud enough for her to hear?
Blakely sucks in a sharp breath, anticipation clinging in the air like a warm cloak. Why wait another second when the brawl already has a victor? I slant my mouth over hers with a growl that’s more beast than human. This is what she does to me. She parts her lips under mine, giving our cravings permission to run wild. Our barricades crumble, the final pieces falling away without the support of further excuses. The freedom thrums through my veins with a static shock, and I groan against her. She returns my enthusiasm with fierce exuberance, dissolving any semblance of concern about the state of her strength.
I draw the flesh of her plump lip between my teeth with a rumble. A burst of her honey sugar flavor coats my tongue. I could swallow nothing other than that sinfully sweet taste and die a satisfied man. The thrill of no limits overpowers my senses, and I’m glad to be done with questioning every move. There will be no hesitation or refusal as we plow forward. Blakely’s fingers spear into my hair, bending me to the angle she wishes. We exchange a guttural moan that ricochets off the rock walls. A plundering urge to explore each freckle, valley, and hollow consumes me. All that she is belongs to me, and soon I’ll have intimate knowledge as proof.
Blakely softens her grasp on me, easing off until a sliver of space wedges our mouths apart. “Distract me, please. Help me forget we’re trapped in the wilderness. Just for a little while, Halder.”
I brush some dark strands off her forehead. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I can’t believe this is really happening.”
“I’m right here, babe.” She skips her nails down the cut of my abs. Her fingers toy with the waistband of my boxers, snapping the elastic with a giggle. “Ditch the threads so I can see what you’re packing.”
A gulp clogs my windpipe at the idea of shedding that flimsy barrier. It’s been too long. This will be over before I have a chance to enter her warmth. I blank out on a feasible excuse because what man wouldn’t want her groping him?
