by Karina Bliss
Dropping to a squat, Kate grappled for wet clay, which she molded into a ball with icy fingers. She stood and hurled it with all her strength, and it landed with a splat between his broad shoulders. Jordan stopped dead. She watched, entranced, as the clod slid in a deeply satisfying manner down his back.
Slowly he turned to face her. “Kate,” he warned softly. Smack. The second clod hit him full in the chest. She laughed aloud.
“Kate.” His tone was pained.
Whack. The third landed just below his navel. He winced and she knew with a thrilling terror she’d gone too far. “You realize,” he said, “this means war?”
His first missive slammed into her back as she high-tailed it in retreat. “Back to being a coward, huh?” The challenge arrested her midflight. She knew he was being deliberately provocative, knew it even as she bent rashly to the task of forming mud balls to wipe that smirk off his face.
But she was outclassed. Every one of his missiles hit its target—her—while only one in three of hers found its mark. In the end, Kate opted for a kamikaze attack, molding as many balls as she could and rushing at him, firing on the run. Jordan stood his ground and she charged into him, panting and laughing, and smeared the remains of her arsenal on his chest.
His stillness awoke Kate to the fact that her rough plastering had become caresses, and her hands faltered to a halt on his strong pectorals.
Blushing, she jerked away, but Jordan’s hands caught hers in a viselike grip and returned them to his torso. “Don’t stop, I like it.” The huskiness in his voice quivered through her like a pulse, and Kate lifted her gaze. Big, big mistake. It was like connecting into the national power grid.
With an unsteady laugh, she shifted focus to the muddy streaks across Jordan’s face. “You look like a kid playing cowboys and Indians.”
Mud creased into smile lines as he grinned. “So do you.” With unhurried deliberation he ran a thumb along her jawline, and Kate closed her eyes, weak with lust. Step away from the guy. Remember what you decided.
Under her splayed hands, the pliant warmth of his naked chest sent waves of feeling surging through her.
Swallowing hard, Kate opened her eyes. Jordan’s head was inches from her own and she raised her face to his, compelled by his heartbeat under her hand, as frantic as hers. Their lips met—and her hesitancy was over.
Whatever she’d weathered today paled in comparison to the storm that shook her now. Jordan’s mouth was a lifeline, and she clung to his body, giving in to her need, which only grew as she surrendered to it.
His lips were chilled, but his tongue was hot. Their teeth hit clumsily as Kate wound her arms around his neck and hauled him closer. It didn’t matter. She felt alive, wild…pagan.
The rain started again, slowly at first, then fast and hard, pelting their entwined bodies, its iciness caresses heightening the erotic heat. Jordan trailed kisses down her throat, and cool drops of water landed on Kate’s tongue as her mouth fell open in a gasp of pleasure.
His hands rose to her breasts. “I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he rasped and bent his head, teasing her nipples through the wet T-shirt.
When it was too much, she grabbed his hair and hauled him up. Laughing softly, she saw how the dirt from her shirt decorated his face with daubs and streaks of red-brown. The laugh caught in her throat, as their eyes met. How could a man be so sexy covered in mud?
Recklessly, she pressed her mouth to his. Their kisses grew deeper and increasingly erotic, fore-shadowing the thrust and surrender of sex.
I should stop this, she thought dimly, while her muddy fingers traced the muscles of his back, delighting in the texture of his skin, slippery with rain.
As her hands came to rest on the curve of his buttocks, Kate struggled for sanity. I must stop this, she thought again, and slid her fingers under the waistband of his wet boxers.
“Stop.” Voice cracking, Jordan took her hands and placed them firmly behind her back, then moved away two paces, breathing deeply. What the hell am I doing? Every soft, throaty sound she made as he kissed her was driving him to take her right here in the middle of the clearing—rain, mud and all.
And she’d hate him for it afterward.
It didn’t matter how willing and eager she might be now. Passion wasn’t enough for Kate, and this recklessness had been alcohol induced—he’d tasted the brandy. She liked to base her decisions on cold, hard reason.
As opposed to hot, hard male, he thought bitterly. She made him think about things he’d always reacted to on instinct. He hated it. He might not care for consequences, but Kate did, and that was what mattered now. He made himself say it. “What about Peter?”
“Peter?” she repeated. Mud streaked her flushed face, her hair was a mass of dark tendrils, her lips were swollen from his kisses and her eyes were dreamy with lust.
“Your fiancé, remember?” His voice cracked again, this time like a whip. Kate stared at him. “Go get cleaned up before we do something you’ll regret.”
“Oh, stop being so bloody noble. It doesn’t suit you.”
His lips quirked. “Is that the alcohol speaking or has it brought out the real you? I can taste the brandy, Kate.”
“I’m not drunk…only tipsy. And Peter and I are finished. He broke off our engagement before I came on this trip.”
His eyes intent on her face, Jordan said, “I’m sorry.”
She started to laugh. “No, you’re not. You’ve been telling me to dump him this whole trip.”
“I wanted it to be your choice, Kate, not his.”
Damned if she’d accept Jordan’s pity at this point. Kate shrugged. “I’m adopting your philosophy—seize the day. Or in this case, the man.” Minutes ago she would have made love in the mud; now all this talking had left her uncertain and a little sick. Still, she put her arms around his waist and said brightly, “I figure you owe me some fun, don’t you?”
Jordan held her gaze so long her cheeks started to ache from holding the smile. Gently he cupped her face in his hands. “Babe, I’m not going to seduce you until you’re sure it’s what you want.”
And Kate suddenly thought, I can trust this man. It made her feel light hearted. “I do want you,” she said.
Jordan shook his head. “I don’t think you know what you want right now.” Turning her around, he gave her a little push. “I’m going to stand here and wash off the mud. Go behind the tent and do the same. Then find some dry clothes in my bag.”
Kate found herself walking away. Behind the tent she stood in the downpour, then dragged off her T-shirt and went through the motions of wiping herself off. I’m in love with him. No, that was impossible. Good grief, she’d only liked him two days. She’d been engaged to another guy last week—whom I didn’t love. But Jordan absolutely wasn’t her type. He also wasn’t into commitment. Okay. I’m in lust.
An idea came to Kate that frightened the life out of her. “I can’t do that.”
For a long minute she wavered, then with shaking hands removed the rest of her wet clothes. Her whole life she’d avoided taking risks, and she was sick of it. For once she was going to close her eyes and jump into the unknown. Get messy, get real, be real…be vulnerable. Okay, he wasn’t marriage material, but as Lucy had said, he was a great guy to have fun with. And wasn’t Kate overdue for some fun?
Naked, she stood in the rain. “You can do this, Kate,” she affirmed through chattering teeth. Taking a deep breath, she walked back, terror dragging at her ankles with every step. Of course he’ll reject you. You’re a madwoman.
Of course he’ll reject me, I’m a madwoman.
Then she saw Jordan, and all her doubts evaporated. Eyes closed, he stood with his face upturned to the sky, water clinging to his long lashes, plastering his hair to his back and dripping off his hard body.
A wild confidence surged through Kate’s veins, unexpected and freeing. Hearing her approach, he opened his eyes. She saw a flash of astonishment, quickly replaced by a wary stillness.
She stopped when her naked body was inches away from his, and trailed purposeful fingers down the planes of his face. Jordan’s stillness grew more marked.
Kate didn’t look away, compelling his acquiescence as her fingers skimmed over the rough stubble on his jaw, the pulse hammering in his throat and the corded muscle where his neck met his shoulders.
Down the broad chest she slid her hand, pausing to tease a nipple. Jordan sucked in a breath, but stood like a rock. She could see him resist the urge to give in to her.
She dropped her hand farther, under the waistband of his boxers, and his eyes widened. “Let’s be crystal clear about this.” She tightened her hold and swayed toward him until her nipples lightly grazed his chest. “I am doing the ravishing. Explicit enough for you?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALL THE BREATH WAS squeezed from Kate’s body as Jordan jerked her hard against him. He quivered under her hand and she gasped.
“What do you think?” he growled, bending to lick a raindrop from her wet cheek.
“I think if you don’t take me now, I’ll die.” She watched the male arrogance return to his face, and thrilled with an answering female power. Lightning streaked the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. Oh boy, she thought, this isn’t Saturday night in bed with the lights out.
Without another word, Jordan picked her up and carried her to the tent. The rain was buffeting the thin nylon, and he put her down to zip up the opening. Kate was suddenly conscious of her naked body dripping water onto the floor, and she rummaged for towels, more to cover herself than dry off.
When she turned back he was half crouched at the entrance, watching her. “Change your mind?”
“No.” Still, she couldn’t stop shaking.
Jordan seized the towels, threw one on the air bed and sat her on it, then knelt in front of her and started vigorously drying her off. “You’re freezing.”
“This wet dog thing you do…” she complained through chattering teeth. More than cold was making her tremble.
“Do me,” he invited, and her tension eased as she gave back as good as she got, and soon they were both rubbed rosy and chuckling.
Jordan flipped the towel over their heads and kissed her under it, and somehow ended up kneeling between her thighs with her body pulled intimately against his.
It was the most incredibly erotic sensation Kate had ever experienced—his tongue teasing hers, the warmth of his hands on her lower back and the shocking heat of him pressed against her from groin to breast. The air under the towel grew steamy.
“Not fair,” she murmured as he drew her closer, making her even more aware of her wanton position. “You’re still dress—oh—” He’d thrust forward just enough that the silken slide of his boxers rubbed against…“Oh,” Kate gasped again, and shoved the towel away, needing air.
“You like that?” He did it once more, and she tightened her legs around him to make him stop, because she was going to come apart and that rarely happened and couldn’t possibly now. He wasn’t even naked, and she wasn’t going to feel this much, she’d already decided.
Tenderly, Jordan loosened her grip. In the near dark, he was a shadow only. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated his face. “For you,” he said, and moved again, and she shattered—spectacularly, noisily, losing her grip on his shoulders and sprawling back onto the bed in a loose-limbed heap.
Gradually, Kate became aware of the wind shaking the rain off the tent, the thunder rumbling in the distance, the damp smell of the sleeping bag under her—and Jordan stroking her prickly legs, still bent ignominiously over the air bed.
She’d never had sex without being showered and smooth and made-up. Peter liked it that way; Kate thought she did, too. This raw vulnerability was outside her experience. For a moment she lay contented, thinking, I’ve lost all my inhibitions. Then Jordan turned on the lantern, flooding the tent with light. Yelping, she rolled over and scrambled for the opening of the sleeping bag.
“Oh no, you don’t.” He caught one flailing foot. “I’ve waited too long to look at you.”
“I’m a mess.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice cut through her embarrassment. She sneaked a peek over her bare shoulder.
“At least take away your advantage.” She nodded toward the boxers. Except he revealed another advantage when he casually shucked them off and dropped them on the tent floor.
“Better?”
The man was even more beautiful naked. His wound was bleeding slightly, and Kate took the opportunity to marshal her emotions. “That looks nasty. Let me dress it.”
“Not quite the reaction a guy wants when he takes his pants off.” Then he saw what she was looking at. “Damn. Well, I guess we can include nursing in foreplay.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant until he sat down in front of her and she realized she’d have to play medic inches away from his spectacular erection.
Kate blushed and started working clumsily on the injury. Jordan winced.
“I’m sorry, I’m not very…” What? Good at this? Adventurous? She had no idea what this man expected. Peter had been very particular about where he liked to be touched and how.
Jordan reached out and smoothed away her frown, making her jump, and she banged the wound again. “What did I say to make you so anxious?” he murmured.
Keeping her attention on his thigh, Kate positioned a cotton pad in place and taped it down. “Pete and I…well, we tried everything…at least once. But probably only to cross it off our list.” Jordan laughed and she stiffened, hot with humiliation.
Immediately, he sobered. “Aah, Kate.”
She steeled herself to look at him. His expression was very kind, which made things worse, but she forced herself to say it. “We were both shy…physically.”
“I hadn’t noticed, myself,” he murmured.
Recalling her behavior minutes earlier, she felt even more exposed. Her ministrations were finished; unconsciously she wrapped her arms around herself.
Jordan stroked her hair, kissed her eyebrows, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. “I’m a bastard,” he said, “because I’m happy there’s still something I can give you—the knowledge that you’re an incredibly sensual woman.”
He dug his Swanndri out of his bag and pulled it over her head. “Let’s start by making you comfortable.”
Sitting her down, Jordan remade the bed, unzipping their two sleeping bags and laying them flat, then building makeshift pillows out of his clothes. He moved around the tent, still naked and completely relaxed, his hair falling over his broad shoulders.
Kate had never seen anyone so at ease with his body. The lantern cast a glow on his skin, a rich brown paling into cream below the tan line. Tiny golden hairs glinted on his strong legs and forearms and around his small puckered nipples, darkening where it arrowed down his flat stomach.
She watched the ripple and pull of sinew and muscle as he moved, and her reticence faded under the urge to touch him. Their eyes met and Jordan’s pupils dilated as he read the direction of her thoughts. “You set the pace,” he invited.
And because she was covered now, and more confident, Kate left the lantern on and touched him. Touched his fingers and wrists, slid her palms up his forearms to his biceps. Slowly her hands ranged over his body while she explored the different textures of his skin…rough and scarred here, soft there.
Jordan groaned appreciatively.
Encouraged, she caressed his powerful legs, reaching between them to cup and feel the weight of him, then ran her fingers up the ridges of his stomach to stroke the downy hair under his arms, so at odds with the rough stubble on his jaw and the wiry gold on his legs.
On the bed, she entwined her hands in his and lifted them over his head, just to see his biceps change shape, then kissed his eyebrows and his eyelids. “Girls’ lashes,” she teased, emboldened by his reaction to her caresses.
“At least mine aren’t singed,” he teased back, and s
he rubbed her cheek against the bristles on his jaw, then plundered his mouth. Laughter during lust was headier than any whispered words of intimacy for Kate. That sex could be so much fun was a revelation.
And when she’d finished touching him, she tasted. The freshness of rain, and mint and mud and man. She grew hot and sweaty under the Swanndri and hauled it off, relinquishing the eroticism of being clothed against his nakedness for the new one of skin to skin.
And then he was touching her, his long hair tickling as he worked his way down her body, exploring, trailing heat…teasing her breasts to tight peaks, moving lower.
She raised her head to protest as he parted her legs, saw his hair falling over her belly and the bunched muscles of his shoulders, and couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t care about propriety.
The world closed in until there were only murmurs and the sound of their labored breathing, hot inside the chilly tent. Lost in this miraculous, fearless world, Kate murmured, “I love you.”
KATE SLEPT, but Jordan couldn’t, restlessly alive to her heat, her scent, the rhythm of her breathing as she nestled close to him. She’d said she loved him.
How had this happened? Why hadn’t he had more warning, more chance to…What? Raise some barricades? The same ones she’d been knocking over the whole trip with her feistiness and kindness and sexiness and stubbornness and smart, funny mouth.
Gently he disentangled himself. He couldn’t think while she was soft and yielding in his arms.
He should have realized that his feelings had progressed beyond lust after those terrifying, heart-stopping minutes yesterday before he’d found her, standing wet and bedraggled on the riverbank, triumphantly holding the paddles above her head like a damn trophy.
The last time he’d thought he was in love with a woman he’d been wrong, and he’d hurt Claire very badly as a consequence. He didn’t want to hurt Kate, though he doubted she’d let him. He’d always known she was a strong woman, but he hadn’t appreciated how strong until he’d heard exactly what she’d had to overcome. It also explained why she’d resisted him for so long. She wanted emotional security, and Jordan wasn’t a safe bet.
