by Jill Shalvis
“If you take off on me, I’ll find you and I’ll—”
She arched a brow, having no idea why the words sent a dark thrill through her instead of sparking her temper. Probably the aforementioned lack of orgasms. “And?”
“And…Jesus. Just stay,” he commanded. “Or I’ll…something.”
It was a desperate, empty threat, and worse, they both knew it.
TJ had to move back down the steep, narrow path about fifty yards to get clear enough reception for his cell conversation. The Search and Rescue team was shorthanded, so he agreed to be on call for the next two days. He then made his way back to where he’d left Harley, holding his breath.
She’d dropped her pack and was sitting on a rock, eating an apple. She laughed at the expression on his face.
Laughed.
He supposed it shouldn’t turn him on to be standing there while she mocked him, but it was Harley. She’d been turning him on, upside down, and every other possible way for so damn long, he was at a loss as to whether he wanted to strangle her or kiss her.
She looked up then and met his gaze, seeming to read it perfectly, because her own went bright with intelligence and wit, and something else.
Awareness.
In that beat he knew exactly what he wanted from her, and it would only start with a kiss. Walking right up to her, he pulled her to her feet, tugging hard enough that she hit his chest with a little “oomph.” He stared down into her face, so close to his. The grimness of her mouth conveyed annoyance rather than the easy amusement she wanted him to believe she felt.
She was pissed.
Well, get in line, because he was pissed first. She had no reason for not wanting help this weekend, and it scared him. All the things that could happen to her scared him. “You let me think you needed privacy, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.”
“Yeah, you should really work on that.”
He just stared at her.
She opened her mouth to say something, probably to rip him a new one, but then she seemed to realize that they were practically in each other’s arms, and suddenly her arms wound around his neck.
Worked for him. He gripped her hips hard.
She stared at his mouth. “God, TJ. You make me so…”
“Yeah.” His arms tightened on her. “Ditto.” And then, even as he said it, she shifted her body to his and he felt his frustration and anger melt into something far more dangerous. “Harley.”
Her eyes were twin pools of ravenous hunger. She licked her lips, and he couldn’t help it, he groaned and bent his head, until their lips were gently, almost sweetly touching.
“This is insane,” she whispered in one beat, and in the next they were kissing, hard and wet, and just a little bit desperate.
She moaned her pleasure into his mouth and then sank her fingers into his hair and let out a soft, sexy, demanding little mewl. He shifted so he could press her back against a tree, freeing up his hands to thread into her hair, to draw her in deeper.
Jesus. He was out of control, unaware of their surroundings, completely gone, lost in her, until two loud birds squawked at each other right over their heads, fighting over something. Harley jumped and pulled back, slipping down the tree trunk a few inches as if her knees had gone to Jell-O before she locked them into place.
He took his hands from her and braced them on the tree, on either side of her shoulders, as he tried to draw air into his lungs and tighten the tenuous grip on his sanity.
It wasn’t easy.
“So I’m guessing all is forgiven,” she said, her voice a little ragged.
He pressed a finger and thumb into his eyelids and took a deep breath.
“You look like you’re torn between kissing me again and spanking me.”
He dropped his hand and stared at her. “Good idea. How about both?”
Her eyes widened, then he hauled her up and kissed her again.
For a beat she was utterly still, then met him halfway, melting into him, over him, fisting her hands in his shirt as things went instantly wild. She came up for air first, but even then her lips clung to his before she slowly pulled away.
Looking as completely perplexed as he felt, she stared at him. “What the hell was that?”
A category-five hurricane. “A hell of an adrenaline rush.”
“And?
“And”—he finally went with total honesty—“I have no idea. You drive me fucking crazy.”
She let out a sound that managed to convey frustration, amusement, and temper all in one. “Same goes.”
“You should probably slap me the next time I do that.”
“Yeah.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth again. “TJ…”
Ah, hell. He was going to do “that” again, slap or not, and they both knew it.
In fact, they lunged at each other.
But instead of wild, this time the kiss was deep and soulful, and devastatingly necessary as air. He felt her knees give, and gliding his arms around her, supported them both as her fingers wove into his hair at the back of his head. It felt so damn good he groaned into her mouth, sucking on her lower lip, biting it, kissing it again. He could feel the heat of her body, the soft cushion of her soft curves pressed up against him, and his brain clicked completely off, instinct and need taking over.
When they broke apart, she pressed her face into his neck and he felt her draw his scent in, as if maybe she couldn’t get enough of him, and his chest ached, physically ached.
God. He had no idea what was happening, but suddenly he wanted to know he wasn’t alone in this. Needed to know he wasn’t alone in this. Fisting his fingers in her hair, he gently tugged until she tilted her face up.
Her eyes were closed. “Harley, look at me.”
It took her a minute, as if she was trying to get it together before she did, but when she opened those seductive eyes, the truth was there for him to see.
He wasn’t alone in this.
That wasn’t necessarily a comfort.
The silence was as heavy as the humid air around them, and was broken only by their accelerated breathing. Then a branch cracked overhead, falling through the trees to hit the ground near them.
Harley jerked.
TJ didn’t move a muscle, not knowing what to say. Rare for him.
Harley finally gathered herself first, turning away to get moving again, leaving him to follow.
Or not.
He knew what she was hoping for. She wanted him far, far away. Hell, on that they were in perfect accord. But what he wanted to do and what he needed to do were two very different things. He needed to know she was safe.
So he followed.
CHAPTER 6
Harley walked hard and fast, but still couldn’t outpace her demons. Or the fact that her body felt so…alive. Every nerve ending hummed and pulsed, and little electric zings of sheer lust randomly fired from erotic pulse point to erotic pulse point.
She had no one to blame but herself. She’d known the minute that TJ’s lips touched hers she’d be in big trouble.
Lord, the man could kiss.
He knew just how to work that warm mouth of his, too, how to hold a woman, how to pull her in and make her purr. Hell, she was still purring.
He was following her, of course. Keeping pace but letting her lead, leaving her to her thoughts.
Thoughts she could do without, so she slowed until he was at her side.
Even more devastating than his mouth were his eyes. They were a deep, velvety green, and mirrors to his soul. She turned and looked into them. He had a few fine lines fanning out from the corners. Not from age, but from his easy smile, from squinting into the bright high-altitude sun, from planning and thinking about his clients’ fun and safety, from worry and concern about those he loved.
From following her up a mountain out of that worry and concern.
All those little things he did were just pieces of the puzzle that made up the boy she’d once loved, the boy who’d grown into a man. A
good man. A solid, strong man.
A man, despite everything her common sense screamed at her, she was incredibly attracted to.
With a long exhale, she stepped off the narrow trail and up on a huge boulder overlooking the wild, open forestland and jagged mountain peaks for as far as the eye could see. And there, surrounded by three hundred and sixty degrees of glory on earth, she could secretly admit one more thing—she’d never gotten over him.
And it was unlikely that she ever would.
She felt him step up to her side and take in the view as well, still silent.
She’d thought this trip would be easy. Fun. Exciting. She’d spend some time just…being. She could ruminate on her favorite TV shows. She’d talk herself out of her addiction of chewing on her thumbnail. She’d think about her life and how she wanted to move outside her comfort zone and really live it.
Passion included, please.
But she couldn’t think about any of that because TJ was with her like white on rice, the poster boy for Distraction. When she tugged off her pack to dig through it for water, he simply pulled a bottle from a side pocket of his annoyingly organized pack, the scrumptiously defined muscles in his back and shoulders working as he twisted off the lid and handed it to her.
He waited in silence under the churning sky while she drank, a low breeze playing with his hair, the sun reflecting off his aviator sunglasses. The wind gusted harder, playing with the hem of his shirt, lifting it briefly to reveal his abs, making hers clench. He drove her crazy, too, she realized. Crazy with lust.
She closed her eyes and downed some water, which did nothing for her parched throat and out of control, not-been-laid-in-far-too-long body. Huh. Seemed she was out of her comfort zone already, without even trying.
At the next rumble of distant thunder, she started walking again, not bothering to wait to see if he followed. She didn’t need to, she couldn’t have lost him if she’d tried. He’d been born and raised in those mountains and knew them like the back of his hand. He could probably track her coyotes better and faster than she could.
They climbed another mile before he spoke. “Going to rain soon,” he said.
She looked up at the still churning and ominous sky. “That problem will have to get in line.”
He slid her an amused glance. “You have other problems?”
Yes. Not the least of which was that they’d come to a fork in the trail, with three possible directions. Two veered right, and she wasn’t sure which she was supposed to take. She looked down at her map and at the little GPS unit Stone had given her, and she still didn’t have a clue.
“Want help?”
Hell, no, she didn’t want help. It was one thing to sit at her laptop and interpret data, but—as she was beginning to realize—it was another entirely to be in the field. “Give me a minute.” She grimaced. “I’m talking myself into not being stupid, into accepting help from one of the smartest, sharpest, best guides in the country.” She eyed her map again. Yeah. She was going to need his help.
Dammit.
“All you have to do is ask,” TJ said quietly, all mocking and signs of humor gone.
She kept her eyes on her maps rather than him because looking at him was doing funny things to her insides. “How much will it cost me to keep you from saying I told you so?”
“We’ll work on a payment plan.”
Lightning lit the sky, followed by another sharp crack of thunder that made her jump again.
“You have raingear?” he asked. “We’re going to need it.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want it right now.” She was still overheated from their kiss. Not him, apparently, because he removed a waterproof shell from his backpack and pulled it on. And damn if he didn’t look good in it, like he could be on the cover of Outside.
Or the centerfold of a different magazine altogether.
“Let me hold your stuff while you gear up,” he said.
“I’m fine for a minute. Here’s where I want to get to tonight”—she said, pointing to the map—“which is where the first malfunctioning camera is set up. I think the best route is this far right trail. You?”
He leaned over her shoulder to take a look. She could feel the heat and strength of him seeping into her, and she had the oddest urge to press into him, sink against him.
“This one drops you in right above Mystic Flats.” His arm came around her as he pointed with a long finger. “And this one ends at Big Oak Flats. They’ll both get you there, but yeah, Mystic Flats is the easier way in.”
She searched that statement for an insult but decided there was none. Even more interesting, he was leaving the decision to her, not taking charge. It defused her, and honestly, also completely charmed her.
So they took the far right trail and she did her best to keep the pace up, wanting to get there before nightfall.
At the next burst of thunder and lightning, the drizzle began, the light mist feeling cool and delicious against her heated skin.
“You want to stop and wait out the storm?” he asked from behind her.
She knew it was stupid to let herself get wet, but it felt so wonderful. Intoxicating. She turned to shake her head and he pulled off his sunglasses to eyeball her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I like the look, is all.”
The look? That’s when she realized she was smiling from ear to ear. It was just that lately she’d been so damn stressed all the time, awake or asleep, and it’d gotten to her. It’d been slowly sucking the energy and life from her.
But it’d all faded away to nothing when he looked at her like that. “You’re getting wet,” she pointed out.
“No shit, Harley. It’s raining.”
She laughed. “I like it out here.”
His gaze touched over her features, a small smile on his lips. “I know the feeling.”
Common ground.
It was unexpected, and like everything else in regard to him, arousing. They just looked at each other, the moment more intense than the kiss they’d shared. She let out a breath, and they started walking again.
A quarter of a mile later, the skies opened up and dumped on them. Walking became tricky, their feet slipping on the thick carpet of pine needles shedding from the trees all around them. “Here,” TJ said, pulling her under the protection of a tree as the sound of the rain hitting the ground in large, golf ball–size drops deafened them both. They dropped their packs, which felt like a nice relief.
“It’s a little too late for this,” Harley said wryly.
“Yeah.” He stood next to her, hands on his hips, watching her from behind those reflective glasses. Shell zipped, hood up, he was completely dry.
Unlike her, who thanks to her own stupidity, had gotten drenched while being pelted by the big drops.
She shivered.
“Harley,” he said on a barely expelled breath. He sounded almost pained.
Yeah. She knew. In a matter of three seconds, her clothes had plastered themselves to her body. She pressed her spine to the tree, dropping her head to study her muddy shoes. “I might have made a tactical error not putting on a jacket when you did.”
“Wait here. I want to check out the distance from the cliff.”
While he was gone, another burst of lightning hit, and then the shuddering boom of thunder so close it rattled the ground beneath her feet. The rain hadn’t let up, and she took a moment to be impressed in a sort of distracted way. Like most things out there in the Sierras, thunderstorms were oversized and amazing to behold.
A set of boots came into her vision, attached to a pair of long denim-covered legs. A single finger, warm and callused, lifted her chin, and two sharp green eyes held hers. He had a five o’clock shadow going, which only upped his sexy factor, giving him a