by Harloe Rae
His smirk appears at that name. “The canoe will be a good alternative for one wall at the most. We still need at least two more. Three would be better.”
I bob my head, glad to follow his plan. “Should I gather makeshift twine?”
He gestures to a wiry thatch of bushes. “Anything you can find is great.”
After a quick stretch, I get off my butt and begin the search for bendable vines. It takes all of thirty seconds until I’m distracted by Halder’s grunts and rumbles from the opposite side of our clearing. The performance he’s putting on deserves a standing ovation. The least I can do is stop and stare to show my appreciation.
He rips into several trees like a man possessed by the need to prove his worth. Heaps of fallen branches scatter the snowy ground. The forest massacre he’s creating is highlighted by dancing flames skittering across each jagged surface. All I can do is gape at him and the sheer power he oozes with every swing of his hatchet.
Without me realizing, night has fallen. Darkness forms a barrier around us. Just beyond that shadowed wall, the storm rages. All I feel is the bone-deep chill rattling through me. I hobble on icicle legs to the lumber pile, tossing three logs on the smoldering fire. Halder appears behind me with curls of heat wafting from his broad frame. He drops his jacket over my shoulders, and I huddle into the cozy warmth.
I glance at him as he steps next to me. “You’re very hot.”
He tugs at the collar of his thermal shirt. “Splitting wood has that effect.”
“Uh-huh.” A hum tickles my throat. “You look thoroughly, uh, spent.”
But that’s not an accurate assessment. The man is barely winded.
Halder wags his brows. “I have plenty more in the tank. Should I make the planks while you rest?”
“If anyone needs a break, it’s you.” I poke his sweaty chest, immediately wanting a more widespread exploration of the sculpted muscles flexing beneath my finger.
He bows into me, pressing harder until I flatten my palm against him. His heart thunders beneath my hand. “I’m good to go, sweetheart.”
Oh my, what’s riling him up all of a sudden? Probably the same tension that’s been broiling inside of me for the better part of thirty-six hours. I erase the remaining distance, sliding my lips over his for a quick kiss. “Okay, well, that’s probably for the best. We have a long night ahead of us.”
To punctuate my point, a booming flurry blasts through the trees. The flames in front of us hiss from the frosty intrusion. Halder squints at the quaking evergreens with a curse. He grips my waist and takes a step back.
“Stay put. I’ll bring the wood over so we can tie them.”
I nod, looming near the fiery pit in more ways than one. “Are we going to be okay?”
“Of course, Blakely. I’ll keep you safe. This is just a little storm.”
The cracking of overhead branches bellows otherwise. “Um, okay. If you say so.”
He makes one trip with an armful of makeshift beams before I snap out of my stupor. With both of us hauling lumber, the task doesn’t seem to take very long. Binding the pieces together is more tedious, but we’re done without sparing much extra energy. We carry the panels to the desired location for our shelter. Skipper is already in the optimal position for wind resistance. Halder gets the boards secured into an exquisite sloping formation that resembles something from a survival show I watched once. He reinforces the corners and ends with additional binds. If this task was up to me, I’d probably build a square box. Seeing his slanting construction confirms that my design would topple with the first decent gust of wind.
Once he’s done, we inspect our quaint quarters with a mutual sigh. I cross my arms with a grin. “This one is better than the last. That’s a damn fine structure.”
He matches my pose. “Yeah, I suppose.”
My eyes seem to roll all on their own at his nonchalance. “You can admit how awesome our lean-to is. Pat yourself on the back.”
“That won’t help us survive.”
“But it will make you feel good.”
“Nah.” Halder sears me with a panty-melting smile. “That’s what I have you for.”
“Indeed,” I blurt. “I’ll happily stroke your ego.”
A strangled choke escapes him. “You’re truly something else.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“As you should. Are you gonna be okay sleeping beside me?”
What is he insinuating? “Um, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You didn’t seem so sure yesterday. I don’t want to assume and get myself in trouble.”
“Well, it’s safe to assume much has changed since then.” I clutch his biceps, marveling at the firm definition. It’s only then I notice he’s still short a layer. I shrug out of his coat, passing the toasty material to him. “You need to stay warm.”
Halder glares at the garment as if the sight offends him. He yanks it on all the same. “Smells like you.”
I wince. “Is it bad?” I try not to curl in on myself. There’s no chance of a shower, whether I reek or not.
He slides a finger under my dipped chin. “Makes the weight bearable.”
For some reason, I don’t think he’s referring to the jacket. “Always glad to be of assistance.”
His gaze bores into mine. “Are you tired?”
A jaw-popping yawn chooses that moment to make an appearance. “I could lie down.”
Without responding, he jogs to retrieve the stuff we left behind. We unpack the bedding and get our space situated. Halder dumps several logs onto the fire while I inhale a slow drag of smoke-scented air and give myself an internal pep-talk.
“All good?” He pauses beside me when I don’t wedge myself into the sleeping bag.
“Do you want to share with me?” I’m bound to tackle and hogtie him if he refuses, but it’s only polite to ask.
His gaze bounces between me and the shelter. “Didn’t we already agree to that?”
I huff and thrust a hand forward at my intended target. “No, I mean in there.”
Halder visibly freezes. “In your sleeping bag?”
“It could be ours. Technically it already is. You’ve just given me dibs.”
“Why?”
I nibble on my lower lip. “Conserve body heat?”
“Is that the only reason?”
“I wouldn’t mind cuddling with you.”
A combination between a growl and moan rumbles up his throat. “I’d love nothing more than to keep you warm all night.”
I exhale a purr of my own. “That sounds better than just about anything.”
“If that’s the case, you’ve been living a deprived life.”
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, big guy.” I nod at our bed. “Hop in.”
Halder follows my command without missing a beat. It takes a bit of elbow grease, but we manage to finagle ourselves in without busting a seam. It probably doesn’t hurt that I’m mostly laying on top of him, my back to his front. The elements can battle against us, but we’ll only band tighter together.
I can feel every hard inch of him pressed against my hip. My earlier estimate wasn’t overly generous. If anything, I was selling him short. There’s no doubt Halder could cause some memorable damage with that piece of equipment. It’s some sick twist on a chastity belt that the temperature must be nearing negative numbers outside of our steam bundle. If the conditions were slightly more pleasant, I’d strip and offer myself as a willing volunteer to see what that bad boy is capable of.
My limits are being tested. There’s no other explanation. Halder seems to be edging toward his breaking point as well. But even with the torturous cliff, I don’t regret this decision. Not a tiny bit.
I burrow lower into the joint warmth we’re brewing. “Thank you for everything.”
The arm he has banded around me cinches further. “You don’t have to keep repeating that.”
“Yes, I certainly do. You deserve to hear my undying admiration a
nd applause.”
“Not sure I’m worthy of you saying it once.”
“It’s my goal to show how valuable you are.”
“Sure.” The curt response prods at my hackles.
It’s then I realize Halder is a stone pillar underneath me. His entire body is similar to a brick wall, the strain pulsing out of him. “Are you okay?”
One jerky nod. “Yeah, just fine. I’m a little…wound up.”
I pinch my features until an ache forms. “What does that mean?”
His exhale is gruff. “It’s been over five years since I’ve been this close to a woman, let alone spooning her against me. That leaves me in a tricky situation. I’ve been storing a lot of…extra reserves.”
“Oh, I see. Is there anything I can do?” I shift against him, and he groans.
“Try not to move,” he grits.
I remain motionless. “Better?”
“No, but I’ll survive.”
There’s no relief to be had, only further agitation of our shared arousal. We’ll combust. Eventually. I can only hope it’s during a mutually satisfying exchange of pleasure.
It’s a challenge, relying on steely resolve, but we relax into a comfortable position. The crackling flames mere feet away are all but forgotten. That priceless heat no longer feels necessary. All we require is the chemistry surging between us.
I drift off wearing a satisfied smile, regardless of the emptiness demanding to be filled.
Survival tip #18: Building a fire is easy with the right kind of wood.
Why am I hot and cold while sweating and shivering?
Without solving that riddle, a harsh twinge in my muscles drags me from the depths of slumber. Is that a spasm? But the burning under my skin distracts me before I can grasp a coherent explanation. I’m blazing hot and swimming in an abyss of lava. There’s a damn kettle dumping boiling water inside of me. A tickle of moisture dribbles along my hairline and traces down until I lose feeling of the path. Am I sweating? Nothing about this spike in temperature seems possible. Shouldn’t I be cold?
Last I recall, we fell asleep in the icy wilderness in the beginning of a blizzard. There’s no reason to believe that’s changed. We’re still stranded, and it’s freezing. But why is every inch of me on fire? My wits are barely lucid when realization filters in through the smoke. Dizziness attacks when I try peeling an eyelid open. A feminine whimper clues me in with a jolt.
Blakely is grinding her ass against me with languid motions specific to fucking. My cock greets her unconscious advances with a straining twitch. That hard length is more than ready to offer reciprocation for her brazen attempts. A buzz of unfiltered need zips through my veins, driving straight south to fuel the blistering demand. The roaring hunger in my gut has nothing to do with wanting breakfast. I have to find a way out before this thin strand of control snaps.
Struggling will only press us into a firmer grip. I can’t reach the zipper while acting as her personal cloak. Wiggling my fingers is a feat I can barely accomplish. We’re two sardines crammed in a container three sizes too small. There’s no easy exit from this tight squeeze without waking her. My eyes cross on their own when she bucks harder. Christ, this woman is about to make me bust in my briefs.
I’m panting without gaining any useful oxygen. Even my pores are clogging with lust. This is a hot-box to torment the worst type of sinners. My balls are bound to be navy after this. Blakely moans again, the sound so wanton and husky my toes curl on impact. Dousing the flames with her this close is laughable.
When she arches into me for the umpteenth time, a flash of white robs my vision. I grind my molars until a filling is likely to crack. My entire body jerks in reflex, and Blakely rouses with a mewl, stretching with a sharp bend to her spine. That reflexive movement effectively shoves her into the ideal position for my dick. If we were naked, one thrust would sink me to the hilt. Just the idea of entering her silky warmth has a shiver racing across the back of my thighs. I clench everything within me until the threatening tingle of climax recedes.
The greedy pang is consuming, but the cause of this madness stirs with a yawn. I can tell the instant that awareness settles into Blakely’s drowsy dreams. She goes rigid in my arms, a startled yelp escaping in the seconds to follow. Her baby blues peer at me through a curtain of mocha hair. Almost immediately, she scans the length of our provocatively aligned forms. I remain motionless so she can gather her bearings.
“Um, hello there.” Her throaty rasp circles my shaft with a velvet caress.
“Morning.” I shift to make a sliver of space, eliciting a strangled gasp from her.
Blakely’s eyes are a pair of pale saucers. “Oh, holy hornballs. No, no, no.”
“Is there a problem?” Other than the obvious predicament of our position, of course.
“Was I humping you?” My silence must tell her everything she needs to know. Blakely slaps a palm to her flushing cheek. “I’m such a hussy.”
I chuckle at the pitchy outrage in her tone. “You were sleeping.”
“Don’t provide excuses for me. I don’t deserve an escape clause after trying to maul you.”
“Would you prefer I use shame tactics?”
A squeak bounces in the air between us. “Gah, no. That sounds painful. I’m just a…tease. After you told me to quit moving and I tried my best. But here I am, rubbing on you fast enough to start a fire. You’ve already been, um, deprived enough without me antagonizing you.”
I give her hip a gentle stroke. That’s the most my restricted mobility allows. “Don’t worry, Blakely. I’ve had plenty of practice suppressing my urges. Hell, I can’t recall the last time the bite of arousal got to me. Those needs just ceased to exist. Until you appeared and recharged my system, that is.”
“How are you being sweet right now? You should be peeved.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re very…hard. I imagine that isn’t comfortable.”
“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Especially with her around. “Popping wood is a common practice for men.”
The rolling of her eyes is almost audible. “Yeah, okay. It’s natural and all that. But it doesn’t help that I’ve been bumping into you for who knows how long.”
“I doubt it was intentional since you weren’t awake. And yes, I’m giving you an out. Again. Feel free to take it. No harm has been done.” A grunt leaves me when she brushes against my dick. That noise seems to remind her of our less than spacious conditions.
Blakely opens the sleeping bag with a harsh tug and a blast of cool air neutralizes our volcanic sauna. I sigh, the exhale wheezing from my starving lungs. Another breath hisses out of me at the loss of pressure from my lower region.
Without leaving the loop of my hold, she turns to face me. She’s rumpled and wrinkled and all mine. For another moment, at least. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m much better now.”
“This kind of behavior isn’t typical for me,” she whispers.
“Does that make me a special case?”
She snorts. “Well, duh. That should be obvious without the lap dance.”
My bark of laughter cracks through the silence. If that’s her idea of a lap dance, I hope she never enters a strip club. “I’m not privy to your dating history. Not that I want to be.”
“It doesn’t involve any of that, or much of anything, to be honest.”
“Yeah, sure.” Her explanation smells worse than a crock of shit, considering Blakely is a total knockout. I’m sure the spike in my timbre is an obvious hint. But this shouldn’t be a common reaction to her. Any man with decent vision will be rubbernecking while she’s nearby. Much to my displeasure, the guards at Streebston always made lewd comments when she’d come around.
“You don’t believe me?” Several grooves dent her forehead.
Is she kidding? “I’m picturing guys falling over themselves for a chance with you.”
Her smile is brittle. “That couldn’t be fu
rther from the truth. Not that I really put myself out there to be available. I’m too invested in my career.”
“Wanting to be established isn’t a bad thing.”
Blakely drops her gaze from mine. “It is when I didn’t make space for anything else. I was out to prove my mother wrong. Being independent. Putting myself in dangerous situations, according to her standards. Living alone. I guess she was right to be worried.”
I pull a few brunette strands from her lashes. “This couldn’t be avoided, whether we were careful or not.”
“My mom would disagree. I’m here because I was being risky and not tucked away in her house. She’d prefer to keep me under a constant watchful eye.”
Foul sludge sloshes in my gut. “That’s no way to live. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
Blakely’s gaze scans our forest surroundings. “And this is an entirely different reality altogether.”
“Beats prison.”
“Pretty sure anything is a vast improvement after that.”
“Because of you.” I press a kiss to a rosy splotch on her throat. “So, dating a bad boy wasn’t on your list of ways to be rebellious?”
“Ha, very funny. I’ve been safe in that respect. But I’m not a virgin,” she blurts that last part. Blakely buries her face in the blanket. “And now I’m mortified. Again.”
“Seriously?” I tug the fabric down. She nods, keeping her eyes averted. I prod again with a murmur. “Why?”
She blinks at me, stretching the quiet for a beat too long. “It’s a proximity hazard with you. The most embarrassing stuff tumbles from my mouth without warning. Maybe I’m too captivated by your whimsical prowess.”
“Is that a thing?”
“With you?” The agreeable noise Blakely emits is seductive as fuck. “Big time. It’s a magnetic draw or some deeply meaningful explanation I can’t think of without a pot of coffee first.”
I nod along with her words, appreciating the direction of this conversation. “I feel the same way about you, Blakely. There’s nothing to ever be embarrassed about. I’m right there with you, along for this crazy ride.”
“You’re only saying that because I’ve become intimately acquainted with a certain part of you that probably holds a large deciding factor.”