by JC Harroway
He searched her face in the gloom, ensuring what he saw there wasn’t simply what he wanted to see. Having spent the last three nights together in his bed, the last thing he wanted was to sleep alone, or for her to sleep alone. Especially not tonight. But he would, if that’s what she needed.
Swallowing back the swell of emotions in case they escaped in an inappropriate and unwanted rush of sentiment, he released her hand. ‘Yes. Goodnight, Archer. Stay warm.’
The look she shot him as he clambered to his feet and crossed the campsite to his lonely tent, scorched the flesh from his bones, ensuring he wouldn’t need his hi-tech sleeping bag tonight. Despite her emotional catharsis, she wanted him. Or perhaps because of it.
Either way, her needs aligned with his own, and he pushed away the residue of guilt that clung to him like the scent of wood smoke.
Chapter 11
He’d waited as long as he could stand. Half an hour after bidding the last of the challenge participants goodnight, Dan parted the flaps of Eden’s tent and ducked inside, his hand groping for her ankle in the gloom. ‘Archer? You awake?’ His hissed whisper reverberated inside his skull like the loudest of bellows. A moment of doubt seized him. He was rusty at flirtation, but he’d judged this correctly, hadn’t he? The look she’d given him around the campfire, like the look she shot at him just before she came, an obvious invitation. But he didn’t want to overstep the mark, or take advantage of her vulnerability. He’d spend the night holding her, if that’s what she wanted.
She grabbed his hand, dragging him inside so he stumbled, nearly crushing her. With a surge of relief, he bit his lip, holding in a chuckle as she clawed at his clothing. Her impatience was something he’d grown accustomed to. She did everything at high speed, giving one hundred and fifty per cent, including sex.
‘Quickly.’ Her breath gusted over his cold lips, warm and minty. ‘I thought you’d never come.’ Eden opened up her sleeping bag, gesturing him inside to share her warmth. A small lantern glowed in the corner of her tent. She’d been waiting for him.
Her mouth found his, greedy and decisive, trailing over his chin, his neck and returning to his kiss.
‘I had to wait until everyone else was asleep.’ He struggled to keep up with her. Either her hands had multiplied since he’d last seen her or she was keener than ever to get inside his pants. Not that he was complaining. He loved taking things slowly with her. Couldn’t wait until they were back in the UK so he could spend all his time off in bed with her. But he loved these quick, raging sessions just as much.
They grappled together in the cramped confines of the two-man tent, until they lay side-by-side under the opened-out sleeping bag. Her warm scent showered him until he wanted to slow things down. To bury his face in her hair and suck her very essence into his lungs. But he instinctively knew tonight wouldn’t be a languorous coupling where he could gorge his fill of looking at her, touching her, making her come again and again until she begged him to finish.
When he slid his hands under her many layers of clothing, connecting with bare skin, Eden yelped, twisting out of his reach. ‘There’s no way you’re putting those freezing hands anywhere near me, Dr Dan.’
So she’d shaken off her earlier confessional mood and was well and truly on the playful and impetuous page. He could deal with that. Perhaps they both needed to outrun their demons tonight.
He silenced his low chuckle by pressing his mouth against her throat. ‘I have other things. Warmer things.’ His lips found her ear, sucking the velvety lobe inside his mouth until a flurry of shivers snaked down her neck and she gulped. She was so responsive to his touch. ‘My mouth, for instance, is scorching.’ He whispered the words, his lips grazing the shell of her ear in the way he knew made her gasp. ‘But you’ll have to be quiet, Captain. None of that wild screaming you like to do, or you’ll wake the whole camp.’
He didn’t give a damn about the camp. Hoped to make her scream as loud as he could. He wriggled under the sleeping bag, his hands yanking the clothing from her waistband and tugging at the button of her trousers. Damn, her frantic hands and mewling sighs had riled him up. He’d have a job keeping quiet himself.
She glared down at him, mouth set in a stubborn line as Dan’s lips kissed a path from her navel, down to the top of her panties. A groan bubbled up into her throat and she clamped her hand over her mouth, her teeth biting down on the skin of her index finger.
He chuckled again, sitting up to wrangle her free of her lower clothing, throwing off the sleeping bag, and distorting the top of the tent with his head.
She giggled.
Time to wipe that smile off her face. ‘Shh.’ His muffled whisper raised goosebumps on her belly. ‘You have to be quiet or I’ll have to leave and go back to my tent.’ Even as he said it, his hands spread her thighs and he settled on his elbows between them, making himself as comfortable as he could be in the confines of the tent.
Dan took his time. While his stare reacquainted itself with every perfect dip and contour of her exposed sex, her thighs relaxed under his palms. Her scent curled up on a cloud of warmth and blew his breath over her, eliciting a rampage of tiny spasms in her thigh muscles.
His gaze drank in her every reaction, the soft glow from the lamp just enough. Eden bit the sleeve of her shirt, muffling her escaping moans. He’d barely touched her. She was always so close. All it took was a few swipes of his tongue, a well-placed finger or two and she’d be clawing at him. He almost felt cheated. But watching her come was so rewarding, so erotic, he’d forgive her anything.
Dan set to work, his mouth covering her warm folds and his tongue locating the swell of her clit. Her taste filled his mouth and he shifted his hips, adjusting his erection, which was crushed beneath him and the hard ground. Hard as steel.
She writhed, arching her back and he grasped her thighs tighter, trying to anchor his mouth in place. Soon she’d be trying to buck him off, but he wasn’t having that. Above the flat of her belly, she lifted her head, her mouth still full of her shirt and stared down at him, eyes glassy with mounting passion. He grinned, his tongue still flicking at her. She’d never be able to stay silent, and he didn’t give a damn.
Eyes locked to her agonised expression, Dan bobbed his head, pushing a finger inside her silky warmth and forcing a tiny mewl past her improvised gag. ‘Shh,’ he whispered, licking her from his lips before diving back in again.
His scalp pricked where she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. She was close, her internal muscles already rippling around his finger. He pushed a second finger inside her, twisting his wrist to plunge them in and out to the rhythm of his tongue.
His blood soared, thick and potent. Her smooth thighs clamped down on the sides of his face and she twisted his hair with enough force to make his eyes water, but he kept going, punctuating his tongue flicks with the occasional suck to her swollen clit.
With a surge of triumph blasting every cell in his body, he held her tighter as she juddered beneath him, her eyes growing impossibly wide, her stare almost pleading.
Her thighs slammed around his head one last time, and her muscles clenched around his scissoring fingers as the breath stuttered from her lungs on a long, broken cry that made him want to fist-pump the star-scattered universe above.
Her cries, muffled by the sleeve of her shirt and moderated by the scrape of her nails on Dan’s shoulder, slowed, and he sucked the last drops of her orgasm from her quivering sex.
She pushed him away, her chest heaving. He collapsed beside her, scooping her in for a kiss, flavoured with her own arousal and powered by the barely contained torrent of his.
Lust raged at him, but he kissed a path down the soft column of her neck until his nose became buried in the silk of her hair, her scent imprinting on his brain.
She’d caught her breath now, her fingers working his zipper free, and he tilted his hips back to ease the pressure on his steely erection behind. Her hand gripped him, squeezing and he released a groan of his own, unconcer
ned if he woke every coyote in the state. The urge to lose himself intensified and he marvelled at her. Where had she come from? How had she awakened him? And how would he ever get enough, now she had?
Even through the cotton of his boxers, her hand scorched him as she pumped up and down his length. With a grunt, she straddled him, rising up on her knees to push his trousers and boxers down to the tops of his thighs. She glanced at him, licking her lips.
He pulled a condom from his pocket, tearing it open with his teeth before handing it to her with a gritted jaw. He was so worked up, if she put her mouth on him now, it would all be over.
With a wicked smirk that bode badly for him, she whispered, ‘Now, Dr Dan,’ she rolled the condom onto him, ‘You’ll have to be quiet, or I’ll have to kick you back to your own tent.’
He curled his hands around her hips, dragging her forward until the tip of him nudged at her entrance. He released his bottom lip from between his teeth, breath panting from his flared nostrils. ‘I’ll try.’ Fuck, was that his voice? What was she doing to him?
In a move that made his balls boil, Eden reached between her legs and grasped him, directing him inside her tight, slick heat. They groaned together as she lowered herself, engulfing him fully. His eyes rolled back and fire raced up his spine, his hips lifting of their own accord.
‘Shh, or I’ll stop.’
He hadn’t realised he’d made a sound, but he wasn’t surprised. She rocked her hips, one hand braced on Dan’s chest, her hair swinging like a fragrant curtain with each movement.
Dan snaked his hand between them, his thumb finding her clit as she rocked back and fore, creating the tension they craved as completely as oxygen. His hips lifted as she seated fully on him, every jerk building the tension that curled at the base of his spine.
She forgot all about keeping quiet as she rocked with increasing vigour, her moans and his grunts building in both volume and tempo.
He pressed his thumb harder, his other hand homing in on her nipple beneath her sports bra and tweaking the nub with his finger and thumb. When she came the second time, her wail broke free, released to the wilderness with unhindered abandon.
Her muscles squeezed him, sending darts of fire down to the tip of his erection. He fought to keep his eyes open, greedy for the sight of her orgasm wracking her body and transforming her features.
‘Fuck you’re amazing.’ Dan murmured as he clasped her hips and twisted them both so she was under him. ‘I love watching you come.’ He braced his arms either side of her head, his hips now pounding hers. His teeth clamped onto his lip as slammed into her again and again, the bite of pain offsetting the intense waves of pleasure rising up in his groin. Her breasts jiggled and her nails dug into his buttocks, adding another sting to the warmth scalding his balls.
It was over. He couldn’t take any more. Every muscle in his body clenched as fire raced along the length of him, exploding from his tip and forcing a yell from his throat. ‘Eden.’ Her name burst from him before he dropped his forehead to hers, his hips still grinding out the last shudders.
When his eyes opened, catching hers, they laughed together—gulping great guffaws they pressed to each other’s skin to dampen the noise.
‘We both failed.’ He placed a tender kiss on her lips before collapsing on top of her in a tangle of limbs and muted laughter.
As the seesawing of his chest slowed, Dan disposed of the condom, tying it off and slipping it into the pocket of his trousers, which were still at half-mast around his knees. He chuckled, drawing Eden closer. They were just like randy, can’t-keep-their-hands-off-each-other teenagers. With his mouth pressed to the smooth skin of her forehead below her hairline, he adjusted the sleeping bag over them, blocking out the chill of the night. ‘You were incredibly brave tonight. I’m in awe of you. I’m sure everyone else is too.’
She shifted, her small body settling over his as she made herself comfortable, half-sprawled across his chest, her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin. ‘I don’t think I’m in any state to inspire anyone.’ She slotted her leg between his, her foot curling around his calf, bare toes flexing. ‘I have depression.’
Her whisper skittered over him, rousing him from a semi-slumberous state. His breath froze but he forced his muscles to remain lax under Eden. It wasn’t the nature of her confession that startled him, but the admission itself. Depression was a hidden illness, still blighted by prejudice and stigma, and yet it affected so many, himself included. This fearless woman in his arms oozed strength. Enough strength to admit something intensely personal and seem unconcerned by the potential judgement of others.
He lifted her chin, holding her delicate jaw in his palm until her stare aligned with his and he’d captured her attention. ‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’ He dipped his mouth, covering hers with a soft swipe of his lips. ‘I’m not surprised, after everything you’ve been through.’ He brushed her hair from her brow, his eyes hot as he drank her in. ‘Archer.’ He whispered what had become an endearment to him, his throat thick. ‘I have depression too. It’s an illness we don’t speak about enough as a society.’
It had taken him months, together with the outspoken intervention of Amelia, to admit it to himself after Megan had died. Dark, hopeless months, when he operated robotically without joy or even neutrality. By the time he’d sought medical attention, a flat mood was something he aspired to, he’d sunk so low.
Eden’s face registered surprise. She dropped her forehead to his. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Me too.’ Her lips called to his again.
‘We’re a mess.’ She snuggled back on his chest, her limbs a little heavier than before.
‘Nah … We’re just normal people, reacting normally to adverse circumstances in our lives.’
She chuckled, a delightful sound that vibrated through his chest and shifted something deep inside his rib cage. ‘Go to sleep, Captain.’
‘Yes sir, Dr Dan.’
Chapter 12
Eden crept down the stairs dressed only in one of Dan’s too-big T-shirts. After the flight home from America, they’d ended up at his house, an unspoken agreement between them that they’d spend the night together. A habit neither of them seemed ready to break.
Eden scrubbed a hand at her face, her eyes gritty. Her body clock was in disarray—two international flights in a week seriously messing with her biorhythms. But she hadn’t wanted to wake Dan, who had a late shift later today at the hospital.
Eden boiled the kettle, raiding Dan’s cupboards and marvelling at the array of teas she found there. Either Dan loved peppermint and Early Grey or someone else did his shopping. Amelia? She reached for the peppermint, finding it sealed. Would he mind if she opened it? He didn’t strike her as a peppermint tea kind of guy. Her thoughts drifted to the man asleep above her head.
Even exhausted and travel worn, Dan had made slow and thorough love to her, an experience that began in the shower they’d shared and ended with him pounding her to completion on the bedroom floor, before they both collapsed into sleep. Something had changed since her campfire confession. He stared at her a lot, his brows pinched together, then his face brightening to a warm smile when she caught him in the act. And while they were still in the heady honeymoon days of their relationship and unable to keep their hands off each other, he held her a little tighter, his glances a little more intense and his kisses erring on the side of voracious.
While the teabag stewed, Eden moved silently around the lounge, her gaze landing on small snippets of Dan’s personality. A book on beekeeping here and a stack of piano music there. She ran her hand along his desk in the corner, her fingers tracing the pages of an open medical textbook illustrating the methods of treating chest trauma.
The eye-catching framed photographs on the lounge walls continued down the short hallway, their mesmeric quality a testimony to Megan’s talent as a portrait photographer. What a waste of a promising young life.
A darkened doorway loomed, the door ajar, and c
uriosity gripped Eden. She pushed open the door, allowing the light from the hallway to illuminate the interior of what was once probably a utility room. Eden entered, flicking on the light and coming to a standstill.
Two long bench tables lined the walls, their surfaces cluttered with prints, lenses and other photographic equipment. Photographs of various landscapes hung from string suspended across the ceiling and what Eden suspected was a tabletop darkroom dominated one corner.
But the image that drew the eye, pulling her deeper into the room until she came to a stop before it, was a stunning black and white portrait of a woman clearly in the last stages of advanced cancer. Her beauty shone from the kind eyes she projected towards the lens. Tastefully naked, completely bald and sporting a large horizontal scar across her abdomen, she smiled bravely at the photographer, her courage spilling from the photographic paper like a tribute to the ravages of her journey.
Dan’s wife.
He kept a photo of the two of them together on his desk—fit, healthy, happy and clearly in love. Eden’s tears went unnoticed until they dripped onto Dan’s shirt, soaking the neckline. Megan had been a beautiful woman. A woman who suited Dan. And this shrine? She could almost feel the other woman’s presence in this room, as if this was exactly how she’d left it. Did he come in here to feel close to her? Had he kept it exactly how she left it? Something shifted deep inside her—a dark twisting mass that had needs of its own.
She shook her head, the violence of the act shocking. What was wrong with her? She’d wanted Dan to be unattainable—still in love with his wife. That’s why she’d allowed them to happen. Wasn’t it? Uncomplicated, clean, temporary.
Locating a box of tissues on one of the cluttered benches, Eden wiped her eyes. She shouldn’t have pried. She felt more an interloper in this room than she did asleep in the bedroom Dan had once shared with his wife.
