Excavated

by Noelle Adams

  “I think you’re right. But I’m really glad I came here anyway. It will make a great show, and the site just seems…I don’t know… It just seems full. Of history, humanity, something.”

  She seemed slightly awkward, almost shy, and she started taking off her jewelry as if looking for something to do with her hands.

  Philip’s breath caught in his throat again, and he stared at her. In a few stilted words, she’d expressed everything he loved about this island. She’d given his feelings words.

  He felt another hot rush of desire—the physical attraction compounded by something more, something deeper. He felt close to her for some reason. Closer than he’d felt to anyone in a really long time.

  In years.

  “Philip?” Lucy prompted, her cheeks flushed and her lashes lowered over a questioning look. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  It had been a really long time since Philip had had sex, so maybe his reaction now was just a product of physical frustration. But his whole body was pulsing, throbbing, all of it centered on Lucy.

  Her lips parted, as if she’d seen the answer in his face to her question.

  When he saw a fire ignite in her eyes, Philip muffled a groan and reached out for her, pulling her into a hard, urgent kiss.

  She responded immediately, eagerly, pressing her wet body against his and sliding her hands up to his head.

  Philip had never wanted anyone as desperately as he wanted Lucy right now. And his only explanation for the fervor was his long dry spell.

  When the need was satisfied, surely his world would make sense again.

  ***

  Lucy couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone as desperately as she wanted Philip right now. She had no idea why—since her mind was wholly against it—but there was no way she could deny it.

  Their kiss grew urgent far too quickly, and after only a minute they were pulling at each other’s wet clothes.

  There was nothing skilled or controlled or leisurely about them as they stumbled to the little bed and tumbled down in a wet embrace.

  Lucy’s body pulsed with need—aching in her legs, pounding in her chest. She tried to keep kissing Philip, even as she struggled to pull off his wet trousers. Their skin was still wet, but she felt flushed with heat.

  She gave a victorious cry as she finally pulled his trousers off, but she didn’t get a chance to indulge it since Philip immediately pushed her back onto the bed and peeled off her bra.

  She arched up as he lowered his head to take a nipple in his mouth. She gasped and writhed as he fluttered his tongue against it and eagerly fondled her other breast, but she kept working on shimmying out of her skirt, which had twisted up like a vice.

  Finally, recognizing her efforts, Philip lifted his head and helped her, yanking her twisted skirt and her panties down her legs.

  Her legs thus free, she tried to wrap one around him as he leaned to take a breast in his mouth again.

  Her body ached with need, and she couldn’t seem to hold herself still. When she felt one of Philip’s hands slide between her thighs and stroke her intimately, she released a breathy cry of pleasure. Then another one when he slid two fingers inside her.

  He stroked her as he suckled her breast, and improbably soon her body shook with a hard, fast climax, choking on his name as she came.

  She’d barely come down when new waves of desire consumed her. She pulled Philip up eagerly, trying to get him in position above her.

  He was just as out of control as her, and he rocked into her shamelessly as he sank into another urgent kiss.

  His body was hot and lean and gorgeous, but he was so much more than that. He was tension. Need. Hunger. Everything he always tried so hard to control.

  She felt it now. She wanted it. Needed it. She couldn’t help but cling to it, stroke it, open herself up to it.

  She’d spread her legs to make room for him and was pushing his underwear out of the way when he suddenly jerked his mouth away from hers.

  “Condom,” he rasped, panting above her.

  “Shit.” She couldn’t believe she’d almost forgotten. They weren’t in a relationship—they couldn’t have unprotected sex.

  Philip rolled off her, groaning as if it took effort, and he was so tight with tension he was almost shaking with it. “I don’t have condoms with me here.”

  He’d seemed so cool and controlled since she’d arrived on the island. She was almost shocked by his neediness now.

  But she wanted it. So much more than his control.

  She scrambled out of bed and stumbled over to her suitcase, finding a few condoms she’d put in a small pocket a while back and had never used.

  She liked that Philip didn’t have condoms with him on the island. She liked that he didn’t usually have casual sex.

  She opened the packet and then reached down to stroke Philip’s erection, her hands almost trembling on the hard length of him as his breath hitched at her touch.

  She rolled the condom on and then pulled him back on top of her.

  He eased himself into her, the penetration tight and deep and agonizingly good. Lucy shifted and tossed her head, trying to process the sensations.

  For just a moment, when he was fully sheathed inside her, he stayed perfectly still, breathing in hot pants against her skin, all of the coiled tension reined in.

  Then he let it go.

  Their motion was fast and hard and almost clumsy—their hips slapping together and the small bed banging against the wall.

  Lucy’s eager huffs turned into little sobbing sounds as she felt an orgasm start to build.

  She wanted more of him. She urged him on—clawing at his back, wrapping her legs around his middle, squeezing around him demandingly.

  Philip was grunting, flushed and perspiring as he worked his flesh in hers. The muscles of his arms and shoulders strained, and she knew he wasn’t going to last long.

  She didn’t care. She was almost there. She cried out loudly as the pressure released in waves of rich sensation.

  Philip came with her, crying out as uninhibitedly as she did.

  Then his elbows buckled and he collapsed on top of her.

  Lucy tried to catch her breath as her body relaxed deliciously.

  She was hot now. Philip’s weight on top of her was delicious and troubling both.

  There was a weird twisting of fear in her gut, but her physical satisfaction overwhelmed it for the moment.

  “Wow,” she said at last, mostly to break a different sort of tension that had started to build.

  Philip gave a huff. “Wow is right.”

  She pushed at his shoulder gently, and he responded by rolling over and pulling out of her.

  As he took care of the condom, Lucy stretched and collected the wet clothes littering the bed, dumping them in a heap on the floor.

  Philip got back in bed with her, pulling a blanket over both of them.

  She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she wanted to say. But she was a little worried at the way she instinctively nestled against his warm body.

  “What are you thinking?” Philip asked at last.

  Lucy told herself to be reasonable. She was a mature adult. She was only on this island for a couple of weeks. She might as well enjoy this while she could.

  This didn’t have to mean anything.

  Once she’d settled it in her own mind, she was able to say lightly, “I’m thinking we’re too good together not to do it again.”

  Six

  Lucy woke up warm and kind of cramped.

  She shifted a little and discovered that she was trapped between something hard and something harder. The harder thing was cool while the hard thing was nice and warm, so she pressed against the hard thing and was surprised when it started to move.

  She groaned groggily and clung to it when it kept pulling away.

  “I’m sorry, Lucy,” she heard through the haze in her mind. “I need to get up.”

  She blinked and discov
ered that the nice, warm, hard thing was Philip’s body, which he was currently trying to retrieve from her grasp. “Oh. Sorry.”

  The cool, harder thing was the wall, so she rolled away from it. She felt deliciously relaxed and slightly sore, so she stretched leisurely, trying to make her mind work again.

  “What time is it?” she asked, watching as Philip collected what he needed for a shower.

  “Six-thirty.”

  She blinked. “You slept late.”

  “Yeah.” He glanced out the small trailer window. “It’s still pouring down rain, so we won’t be able to dig today anyway.”

  Lucy frowned. He’d pulled on his underwear after they’d had sex last night, and that was still all he wore. He was gorgeous with his smooth shoulders, lean flanks, and flat abdomen, and it would be nice if he’d come back to bed. “Why are you getting up so early if you can’t work?”

  “I’ve got work I can do in the office—cataloging and such.” He’d been distracted and a little distant, but his face softened as he looked at her fully for the first time.

  His face softened a little too much.

  “Are you laughing at my hair?” she demanded. It must look horrible, after going to bed with it damp last night and being tumbled wildly with their lovemaking.

  He chuckled and didn’t answer.

  “Well, you’ve got scratches all down your back—and probably on your butt too—so I’m not the only one looking worse for wear.”

  Philip did look a little worse for wear. For no good reason, she flushed at this evidence of how shamelessly eager she’d been last night.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let go so completely.

  At least Philip had let go as well. She wasn’t the only one who’d wanted it so much.

  With a smile, Philip leaned over the bed and gave her a soft kiss. “As a matter of fact, I do have scratches on my ass,” he murmured against her mouth. “Guilty as charged.”

  She giggled helplessly and tried to pull him into bed with her, but he resisted.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I need to get dressed. I’m late already, and the grad students are probably already up.”

  “Can’t you take a morning off? I guarantee I’ll give you a better time than all your excavated artifacts do.”

  “I have no doubts about that.” He was smiling but unyielding. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  The shower was functional but fairly primitive—in the adjacent small bathroom. As he disappeared into it, Lucy sighed and rolled back over.

  She shouldn’t be grumpy. This was his life and job—not a vacation. She shouldn’t expect him to toss it aside just to have another round of sex with her. Had she planned to be shooting this morning, she would be out of bed and focused too—not lolling around, thinking dirty thoughts about his fine body.

  But still…it would be nice if he’d seemed a little more tempted by her invitation.

  ***

  Lucy shook her head and leaned back in her chair, idly rubbing her head where the pins in her chignon were sticking into her scalp.

  This day wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned.

  The rain had really put a damper on her filming schedule, and it showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

  Michael MacPherson, her expert on Orkney lore, had come out to the island today. Since he was skittish about being on camera anyway, she hadn’t wanted to risk suggesting he come another day when the weather was less inclement.

  They could hardly film his interview segments outside in the pouring rain, so they were now all crowded in Philip’s small office.

  She’d started with the questions she and Dana had prepared, but soon the conversation unraveled completely. Philip had wanted to sit in, and there was no reason why he couldn’t. But, instead of her asking the questions, Michael had started asking Philip questions about the island.

  Now, two hours into it, the two men were deep in an intense discussion about minute details of Orkney history and ancient culture.

  Lucy’s viewers would have no interest in such specialized information, and she had only a limited amount of interest herself.

  She saw Sawyer make a face, still dutifully filming the discussion, and then he shot her a questioning look.

  She made a silent gesture with her hand, indicated he should keep filming. She’d noticed a few good snippets she could use for the show—some voiced by Philip and some by Michael. And then maybe she could also edit together an amusing montage to illustrate how impassioned some scholars were with the site.

  Besides, she kind of liked how much Philip was enjoying the conversation. He’d always been intense, and she liked to see it channeled this way.

  He’d always struck her as rather lonely. Maybe even more so now than when she’d known him before. He’d had a conflicted relationship with his mother back during the campaign, but it had been clear that she was important to him. He’d had friends too, but he hadn’t been able to devote a lot of time to a social life because his work on the campaign took up so much of his time.

  He’d only been twenty-three. His mother shouldn’t have made him sacrifice a normal life in service of her political ambitions.

  Now, however, Lucy wasn’t sure who Philip had in his life. All of his connections seemed to be professional.

  But Philip genuinely seemed to like and respect Michael. And vice versa. It gave her an odd, twisting satisfaction in her chest.

  When the conversation finally seemed to wind down—neither man having any additional information to share about the significance of the faint tool marks on one of the standing stones—Lucy leaned forward.

  She still needed a few sound bites from Michael before he departed.

  “Michael,” she said, “I’m wondering about these rumors about the site being haunted by the ghosts of ancient warriors.”

  Philip snorted, and she slanted him an annoyed look.

  She continued, “Do you think that’s based on any longstanding legend from the islands?”

  “Most of our hauntings are female—white women, wailing women, various and sundry women. The stories of the warrior ghosts didn’t surface until the hippies came with their incense and chanting.”

  Lucy tried to keep her mouth composed, but the man’s dry response—and his strong Orkney accent—made her want to laugh. “So you think these current stories are just made up by people who hope to encounter the supernatural.”

  Michael nodded his shaggy head. “There’s real power here—no mistake. But it’s not in a ghost or a haunting.”

  Lucy felt the little thrill she always experienced when someone gave her a perfect sound bite. She nodded at Sawyer, indicating he could stop the filming.

  She’d been planning to walk with Michael to the ferry now, since she knew he wanted to get back to Mainland before evening. But he turned to Philip and asked another question about a necklace they’d unearthed a few weeks ago. Philip launched into an enthusiastic explanation that eventually led to an argument about whether the ancient people here used jewelry for worship or for adornment.

  Lucy shook her head and gave up.

  ***

  Philip was surprised by how much he’d enjoyed the afternoon. He hadn’t had many hopes for the pseudo-expert Lucy had brought over, but he’d found the man informed, engaged, and fascinating.

  It was late when he and Lucy watched Michael leave on the private ferry Lucy had arranged for him.

  The rain was still coming down.

  Lucy, having changed out of her Girl Meets Ghost clothes, now wore jeans and a hooded raincoat. She glared up at the steel gray sky with a frown. “I was hoping to finish the shoot in the barrow tonight.”

  He shook his head. “It will be a mud pit. You’ll have to wait another night or two until it dries up.”

  He didn’t mind that the night shoot was delayed. He didn’t feel like spending another evening in a wet, muddy tomb.

  Besides, he could think of more interesting thing
s they could be doing tonight.

  Lucy just kept frowning and headed back to the trailer with Arthur at her heels. They’d eaten dinner with Michael and the others two hours ago, so he assumed she was planning to go to bed now.

  He wondered if he was invited.

  She’d said last night that they should have sex again, and this morning she’d tried to make a move on him, one he’d been sorely tempted to accept. He would have accepted had he not been feeling far too soft and needy for a casual sexual encounter.

  But, since then, Lucy had acted purely professional—interacting with him in her normal intelligent and ironic way.

  Maybe she’d decided it should just be a one-night stand.

  Philip could understand that. A one-night stand was less complicated than a one-week liaison. But he didn’t feel like he’d gotten quite enough of Lucy, and he was hoping for a few more nights with her.

  At least one more night. At least tonight.

  They made it to the trailer and Philip stopped, unsure of whether he should go with her to the bedroom or head to the office to sleep on the couch.

  She stopped too. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He wondered how he was supposed to discreetly ask whether she wanted to spend another night together. He was really out of practice at this, and it made him feel like an idiot.

  It had been a very long time since he’d had sex.

  “You’re coming in, aren’t you?” she asked, gesturing to the bedroom door. She was frowning even more deeply, as if she was surprised and displeased by his reticence.

  “Of course.” He let out a breath of relief and added with a teasing lilt, “I don’t sleep on that couch unless I have to.”

  She laughed deliciously as they entered the room, and then they were on each other again.

  Philip had assumed that tonight he would be less urgent and hungry—since he was no longer breaking a long dry spell—but he had no more control than he’d had the night before.

  While Arthur went to his blanket to settle in for the night, they tore off each other’s clothes and tumbled onto the bed. He couldn’t stop kissing her, even as he tried to focus enough to caress her with some degree of skill.