On the Move

by Aislinn Kearns

  Water, glinting with moonlight, rushed beneath her. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, willing her heart to calm. When she was in control of herself again, she eased her eyes open. This time, she determinedly focused on the boards beneath her feet, not the rushing river beyond.

  She loosened her fierce grip on the rope to her left and took a tentative step forward, and then another. She kept her mind focused on that—one foot in front of the other.

  It wasn’t until she was halfway across that something shocked her out of her focus. The bridge groaned and dropped. Jessica’s eyes snapped up to see the rope she clutched unraveling at the other end, right next to Mike. Their gazes met—briefly—until he lunged to grab the rope to keep her steady. The rope slid through his grip and slithered off the side of the bridge to hang uselessly below.

  Mike winced and gripped his hand. Sympathy and worry swelled within her, suspecting he’d have rope burns on his palms.

  But then the true horror of her own situation penetrated her mind, and all the hair froze in her lungs. Now she stood high above the earth, with no barrier between her and a seventy-foot drop.

  “You can do it, Jessica,” came Mike’s quiet whisper.

  She glanced up to meet his gaze, still frozen.

  “I can’t come out to get you.” His voice barely carried. “Our combined weight will probably break it. But you have to keep moving, sweetheart.”

  The endearment burrowed into her mind, but she couldn’t think about it. Mike made an effort to keep his voice calm, though there was a slight tremble beneath the words. A second later, Jessica saw why. Beside him, the rope that held the bottom part of the bridge to the tree sagged, indicating it would snap any moment.

  Jessica took a big breath, and then another. She had to move.

  She forced her cramping fingers to release the useless rope that she still clutched, as if it was doing anything to protect her. She didn’t watch it fall, too scared of catching a glimpse of the drop beneath her.

  She stepped forward, putting as little of her weight on the bridge as possible. Even still, it dipped alarmingly, and Jessica didn’t have much time. She was torn between making a break for the end, and continuing slowly to put as little stress as possible on the crumbling bridge.

  Her gaze bounced between her feet, the fraying rope, and Mike’s worried expression.

  Nearly there. A few more steps and she’d be safe.

  But the rope gave way, snapping until only a fragile twist held the bridge to the tree, the broken strands unraveling at the speed of a bullet. Jessica didn’t think. She put her head down and sprinted forward, launching herself at Mike the same second the rope snapped for good. He snatched her out of the air and into his arms as the bridge collapsed beneath her, still dangling from the tree by one frayed rope.

  Mike pulled her close as her boots found a tree branch to steady herself. He wrapped one arm around the tree trunk to steady them, and flattened his other against her lower back to press her closer to him.

  Her heart pounded like it was trying to break out of her chest and the cold sweat that had formed on her skin chilled her despite the humidity. She buried her face in Mike’s shoulder and breathed hard, calming herself.

  She’d survived. They both had. Being alive was the only thing that mattered.

  As her heart rate calmed, she became more aware of Mike’s body against hers. Their mingled heartbeats, the splay of his hand against her back, the soft exhalation of breaths on her shoulder.

  “Thank God you’re all right,” he murmured, pulling her even closer.

  He’d kissed her.

  She hadn’t thought about it at all during her daring flight over the bridge, but he had kissed her. Too quickly. She hadn’t even had a chance to enjoy it.

  Her body stiffened, and he pulled back to see her face.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “Then let’s get back to solid ground.”

  She swallowed at the reminder of how high up they were, but was immediately desperate to get to solid ground, get safe.

  They shimmied down, taking their time. Jessica’s arms ached from the climb up on the other side of the river, but thankfully gravity did most of the work on the descent.

  Jessica still half-expected the rebels would be waiting for them at the bottom. But when they finally caught sight of the moist ground, it appeared empty. Mike dropped down first and took off his pack to stretch briefly, then held his arms up for Jessica.

  She lowered herself, but her arms unexpectedly gave out. She collapsed into Mike’s arms harder than she’d intended, sending them both to the forest floor. Mike landing on his back with Jessica on top of him. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, their lips scant inches away.

  “Sorry,” Jessica breathed. Their gazes met. The world stilled.

  “I’m not,” replied Mike. And then he kissed her again.

  This wasn’t the quick, firm kiss from before. This was slow and wet and sensual. He coaxed her mouth open and slid his tongue inside. Jessica fisted his shirt and teased his tongue with her own. The taste of papaya and wood smoke overwhelmed her senses as she deepened the kiss.

  Mike cupped her head, fingers tangling in her hair, and explored her mouth with an exquisite unhurriedness.

  But her heart still pounded from the adrenaline that had flooded her system earlier, and unhurried was not what she wanted. She kissed him harder, maneuvering her mouth to get the best angle. Mike didn’t complain about the change in pace, matching each stroke of her tongue with his own.

  He groaned, and the sound sent tugs of pleasure down to her clit. She threaded her fingers through his hair and tightened her grip. In response, his hand slipped over her ass and squeezed.

  Jessica gasped, breaking the kiss, and Mike had the chance to move his lips to her neck. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin, and Jessica’s hips flexed in want. Friction. She wanted friction.

  Mike’s hand slipped farther, reaching between her legs until he could rub his fingers over the seam of her crotch. It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

  She shifted, brushing her breasts against his chest in the process. It made her nipples stand to attention, begging for his touch as much of the rest of her.

  He returned his mouth to hers, as he found her clit, circling it until she panted with want. Shit, she was going to come right here, in the middle of the goddamn jungle. This hadn’t been how she’d imagined this would happen, but she sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

  She was already so close, so ready and—

  Mike pushed her off him with a bit of curse.

  “What the hell?” Jessica asked, anger surging. If he thought he could cop a feel and then not finish what he’d started, he was in for a rude shock.

  “Stay back.” He sat up, wincing.

  “What, so you can go on some guilt trip and say you regret what happened? Fuck that.”

  “No,” he gritted out. “There’s a slight issue.”

  His jaw was locked tight. The pained expression on his face gave her pause. “What?” she asked. If he apologized for that kiss, so help her, she’d kick him in the nuts again.

  He stood and turned his back to her. Jessica followed him into a standing position, ready to call him out for his rudeness. But then he reached behind him and tugged up his shirt.

  On his back, latched onto his skin, were five fat leeches, happily sucking his blood.

  Chapter 9

  Mike turned back to Jessica, biting back a curse. The leeches had chosen the worst possible time to interrupt. The rebels were minutes down the river, and he’d finally had Jessica in his arms. She’d been so hot, so demanding, and his cock was still aching from the memory of her against him.

  He wanted her there again. But not on a forest floor this time. A bed. Or a hammock, he wasn’t fussy. But definitely somewhere comfortable, where they wouldn’t be interrupted. They needed to finish their intimate moment, wit
hout the leeches this time.

  No doubt that would stop the strange thrum in his chest whenever he thought of her. A little voice in his head called him a liar, but he ignored it. He wasn’t built for relationships, but sex he could do. Happily. Particularly when it came to a woman like Jessica.

  Christ, she was sexy. Her breasts alone…well, he regretted not getting his hands on those a second ago when he’d had the chance.

  The pain in his back intensified, reminding him that now was not the time for sex fantasies. He needed to get the bloodsuckers off his back. They weren’t lethal, not right away, but they could definitely cause some damage.

  Jessica crouched. Mike almost asked what she was doing, but it was too dark for him to see her answer, anyway, now they weren’t inches away. She stuck a hand in his pack and eventually extracted something. A second later his flashlight clicked on, and Jessica pointed it at her lips.

  “Tell me what to do. Do I pull them off?”

  He grinned, oddly warmed by her forethought of grabbing the flashlight, so he didn’t have to ask. He tore off his shirt and placed it on top of the pack, so he wouldn’t get any nasties crawling in it in the dark.

  “No, don’t pull them off. Their fangs can get stuck under the skin. We need either citrus fruit, or matches. Since I don’t have many matches left, let’s try for the citrus.”

  “You’re very calm,” Jessica said. She let the light linger on his chest for a few seconds, her gaze heating, then swung the beam around to search the trees.

  “Leeches aren’t deadly. They don’t carry diseases or anything. The only thing to worry about is if the wounds bleed a lot, since they have an anticoagulant in their saliva. I’m a long way from blood loss.”

  She nodded, and then the beam of the flashlight stopped on a cluster of guavas. She gathered a couple and brought them back to him. Mike cut them open and she squeezed them on his back. He barely noticed the sensation, but the scent was potent. Until he got a proper wash, his back would be sticky with juice and blood.

  Jessica came around to where he could see her.

  “All gone?” he asked.

  She shook her head and aimed the light at her face. “You had five of them. I’ve got rid of three. But the other two aren’t responding to the guava.”

  He sighed. “Damn. I hoped it would be tart enough, but obviously not. We need a lemon or lime.”

  Jessica glanced around as if one might fall from the sky, but no miracle occurred.

  “So, you want me to burn them off?”

  “May as well. Don’t waste too many matches,” he told her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, then dropped the beam so he couldn’t read her face. He grinned again, liking her spirit.

  Once she had the matches out of the pack, he turned back around. He flinched a little at the first touch of flame, since it was unexpected. After that, he held still as Jessica burned the leeches until they shriveled.

  Finally, the heat disappeared, and Jessica came into view.

  “Three matches down,” she said proudly.

  “Nice work.”

  “So—” She broke off, her eyes darting over his shoulder and into the darkness.

  He dropped his voice and leaned forward until he could press his lips against her ear.

  “What is it?”

  Jessica pulled back and aimed the light at her face. “I heard a shout.” She mouthed it soundlessly, he could tell by the way her throat worked.

  “They must have seen the light. Or the broken bridge, and figured out what happened. We have to go,” he breathed. “How close were they?”

  “I think they’re only leaving now.”

  “Good. Then we’ll have a twenty-minute head start.”

  Mike threw his shirt back on and then picked up the pack. He took the flashlight from Jessica and clicked it off. He’d have to navigate by what little moonlight penetrated the canopy. He couldn’t risk the rebels seeing the light and knowing how to follow them.

  They moved through the dark, deeper and deeper into the blackness until they could only see the vaguest outlines of plants and trees. They were slow, careful, not wanting to walk into anything they shouldn’t.

  Mike didn’t know whether it would be safer to stop and wait for morning, or whether to keep plowing through the forest with no indication he headed the right way. He hated the lack of sight, added to his lack of hearing. It made him—and therefore, Jessica—increasingly vulnerable.

  He had no idea if anyone was following them, but since Jessica hadn’t reacted, he presumed there weren’t any sounds of pursuit. They must have escaped just in time.

  Eventually, they’d have to stop. Jessica was slowing, and Mike was suffering the effects of a sleepless night himself. A little farther, and then they could make camp.

  An hour before dawn, Jessica grabbed Mike from behind and pushed him against a tree, clapping her hand over his mouth. His cock stood to attention before his brain registered what she was doing. He stilled, struggling to focus with her body pressed against his.

  His head was still full of their earlier kiss, his body desperate to finish what they’d started. That was the only excuse he could give when it took him a solid minute to see the lights filtering through the undergrowth.

  He squinted, peering closer, trying to make sense of what was in front of him. The rebels shouldn’t have been able to circle around that fast. He and Jessica had been heading in a mostly-straight line since the river. Unless he’d somehow got turned around in the dark? But, no, being deaf shouldn’t have messed with his sense of direction. Not that much, anyway.

  Jesus, he wished he could hear. It would give him way more context to what he saw. He dared not ask Jessica. Not when she still had her hand clamped over his mouth to silence him.

  Were the rebels nearby?

  The lights brightened. Wait, no. They were moving, coming closer. The ground beneath his feet vibrated. He held his breath, heart pounding and muscles tensed for a fight. The lights reached a crescendo of brightness, filling the entire clearing like sunlight.

  Mike met Jessica’s gaze, and their eyes locked. He couldn’t read her expression. Concern was there, but also something more.

  But then, the lights moved past, slowly dimming until there was nothing but blackness surrounding them once again. Mike didn’t move, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness once again. Jessica stayed pressed against him, breathing hard.

  He settled his hands on her hips, relishing the contact between them. If she moved her hand from his mouth he could—

  She stepped back, and his arms instantly felt empty without her in them.

  A shift in the air told him she was moving, and then the flashlight clicked on.

  “Are you sure that’s safe?” he asked urgently.

  She nodded. “The trucks are gone. I haven’t heard the rebels for a few hours. I think we’ve lost them.”

  Mike breathed a sigh of relief. “Trucks?”

  “I think that’s what they were.”

  “Huh. I doubt that road is on any map.”

  “Should we check it out?”

  He agreed, so they crept forward in the direction the lights had come from. Moments later, they stood on the edge of what passed for a road. It was barely as wide as a truck would be. The ground hadn’t even been cleared properly. More like the trucks had driven over the soil and undergrowth to flatten it.

  Mike wasn’t surprised. From what he knew about loggers, they moved locations and paths often, and kept their operations on the down-low. Neither of those things meant taking the time to clear a proper road through the jungle was a good use of their time.

  Not that the Zolegan government would cause trouble for the loggers, provided they got enough kickbacks. But given rebel activity in the area, it was a smart enough move for these loggers to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to themselves.

  “Should we follow it?” Jessica asked when he looked at her.

  Mike shook his head. “It’s going
in the wrong direction. And it’ll make us easier to spot if the rebels are still on our tail.”

  She nodded. “Okay. So, we keep walking?”

  Exhaustion was etched beneath her eyes. Her shoulders slumped, but her expression was determined. Mike wanted nothing more than to tell her she could take a break. It wasn’t long before dawn, and they’d need to get some rest if they were to continue once daylight hit.

  But he couldn’t. Not here, not now. They were far too close to the road. And while the loggers were a better option than the rebels, there was no guarantee they’d let Mike and Jessica continue their journey with safe passage. Not when they knew the two of them could spill the beans on their illegal activities.

  “We have to walk a bit farther to get away from the road and anyone that might see us. Then we’ll grab a few hours’ sleep.”

  She nodded, and pride swelled in his chest. She really was brave, and resilient. She hadn’t freaked out or squirmed over the leeches, she hadn’t lost her nerve on the bridge. She didn’t complain now, when he was asking her to do something he’d hesitate to request of any of his highly-trained colleagues.

  Jessica Vanderslice was a surprising and remarkable woman. Everything he’d expected from her had been so far from the truth.

  He’d never been more glad of a person exceeding all his expectations. If he’d been trapped in the jungle with the high-maintenance socialite he’d expected, this whole trip would have been a nightmare.

  But then again, if he had been trapped with an awful woman, he wouldn’t be dealing with these new feelings he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

  He sighed and shook off the thought.

  He and Jessica crossed the logging road, and then plunged back into the dark forest.

  Mike finally called a halt to their progress as dawn filtered through the trees. Jessica collapsed back onto a tree trunk and gave him a grateful smile. They set up the camp, hanging the hammocks. Mike debated whether he should light a fire to keep away bugs and boil some water, but eventually decided against it. It would be easier for the rebels to spot the smoke in the daytime.