As he spoke, Brad realized it was true. Chelsea might help everyone else with their problems, but she held herself back, hiding from herself. The reason she’d never experienced pleasure before was because she wouldn’t let herself. Whatever reason she thought love was only hurtful, whatever she’d wanted to tell him all during this trip, it was holding her back.
Kissing her shoulder again, Brad moved Chelsea’s forefinger, pressing it into the crease between her legs. “You’re safe. You can enjoy this.”
He slid his finger up and down, forcing Chelsea’s to wiggle against her.
To his delight, after a few seconds of him doing all the work, Chelsea flexed her finger, moving it slightly to the side to hit just the right spot.
Her breathing accelerated and she wiggled her hips, almost floating away from him.
Brad grabbed her thigh with his free hand, kissing her neck while his fingers took turns with Chelsea’s in flicking against her clit.
Every time she wiggled, Chelsea’s ass rubbed against his swollen dick. Brad felt his excitement mounting, and she hadn’t even directly touched him yet.
“Oh, yes. Oh, yes.” The whispered pleasure slipped from her lips and she took her other hand and grabbed her chest, yanking at the nipple. Her hand beneath his became more and more aggressive, obviously discovering that the pleasure of touching herself was worth her fear of embarrassment.
Trusting she could handle keeping herself stimulated, Brad sank his hand down, plunging one finger into her opening.
“Oh, Brad!”
The walls of her insides tightened around his finger, and he could only wish he’d stuck something else inside.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she cried, moving back and forth in rhythm with the thrusts of his finger.
He added another inside, and it was as though she could no longer handle the mounting pressure.
Chelsea flung her head against his shoulder, tipping it back as cries of release overtook her and she shuddered in his embrace.
The round flesh of her ass continued bumping him, and with a soft moan of his own, Brad joined in with her pleasure.
* * *
Chelsea stared at Brad across the fire pit, wondering who this new, amazing creature next to her really was. He brought forth something in her she never expected. And, yes, she understood why people were so sex crazed now.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to do something more for you?” she asked, watching as Brad pulled the food pot off the fire. “I know you said you... made it... but I didn’t do anything.”
It wasn’t natural for her to feel so insecure. Sex had always been sex before. It seemed having an orgasm had turned her into a mess. However, she wanted to give Brad the same gift he’d given her. She wanted him ready and willing for a repeat performance.
As though reading her mind, Brad finished stirring the noodles and then looked up at her, a smug grin on his face. “I’m good, sexy lady, but if you are offering to go for round two, I think I could be up for it after dinner.”
Picturing his long girth and remembering the feel of it against her ass in the water, Chelsea flushed and couldn’t stop a sudden fit of giggles. “I just bet you could.”
“In all seriousness, though, tonight is your night. I’ll do whatever you want once the chores are finished. First, we need to eat dinner so I can wash the pot and get water boiling to drink tomorrow.”
Chelsea sighed, but scooted closer to him and retrieved metal spoons from the plastic bag where she stored them. Water duty was such a pain, but boiling it was important. Otherwise, they could contract a serious sickness, forcing them to call for rescue. It took forever, though.
Once boiled, they had to wait for the water to cool enough that it wouldn’t melt the plastic liners inside their packs. It took four pots to fill their storage for the following day. That didn’t even include taking time out to use the pot for meal preparation or boiling what they would drink in the morning before hitting the trail.
While they were well hydrated, more so than she’d expected, Chelsea wished Brad had thought to bring more than one pot. Then again, she probably would have forced him to leave one behind, so maybe that didn’t matter. Live and learn.
Brad blew across the noodle on his spoon, cooling it. “What are you thinking so intently about over there? Everything okay?”
The trepidation in his voice touched her. He worried whether she regretted their time in the hot spring together. No matter what happened in the future, she’d never be sorry about that.
“I figured that next time we do a trip like this, we should pack two pots.”
“Really?” His eyebrows rose, as though he didn’t quite believe her. “I thought next time you wanted to bring fewer things along.”
Reaching for him, Chelsea gently stroked Brad’s face just above the area where his dark beard had begun growing. “I think you were right. We aren’t survivalists, not really. We’re barely finding enough fruit out here to satisfy my sweet tooth. We couldn’t live on it.”
“It’s the wrong season,” Brad said. “I’d hoped there’d be some early producers, but if they’re out here, I’m not having luck finding them.”
“And in the summer, when you said there would be more fruit, the resort will be full of people, guests and employees. That means we’ll both be slammed with work. Taking a few weeks off isn’t plausible then.”
“Hmmm...” He scrunched his eyebrows low, glaring at their food. “You said next time, so you can’t be brushing me off for not being a good survivalist.” He glanced up, his expression not clearing. “What are you saying, Chels?”
She rubbed her thumb against his face, hoping her feelings would somehow transmit from her gaze to his brain, and he’d know what she meant. “I’m okay if all we ever become are good campers. Especially if you continue to be my exploring partner.”
“Se-seriously?” The shuttered hope behind his eyes made her feel like a jerk for having made him work so hard to win her over.
“We’ll work everything out, Brad. You’ve already made steps to repair things with your family, so I know I don’t have to worry about you being unhappy all the time.”
He shook his head once sharply. “I can’t promise to be rosy twenty-four/seven. The truth is, I can be an asshole when I’m under stress.”
“Everyone can,” she said. “I don’t expect you to be perfect. I can’t expect that anymore. What we have here is pretty darn close, and that’s all anyone can hope for.”
“And are you ever going to tell me what has hurt you so bad?” he asked, brushing her hand away from his face to capture it in his. “Will you ever trust me enough to share why you’ve been searching for perfection and pushing love away?”
Chelsea blinked hard, trying to stave off her sudden tears. “Our food’s getting cold,” she said, “and we still need to boil water. We’d better eat.”
Chapter 18
He thought he had her. He thought Chelsea had surrendered to him, had decided to trust him.
Heart aching with disappointment, Brad carefully tipped cooling water into Chelsea’s water pack. What could be so horrible that she didn’t want to tell him? She’d been relatively open about the death of her parents and brother when explaining her fear of cars. Brad was certain her feelings of fear regarding love had to be tied up in losing them, but what made her feel like she couldn’t talk to him about it? Was she ashamed that, as a psychologist, she couldn’t fix herself?
Hell, for most of Brad’s life he hadn’t felt like he could do anything right. Having Chelsea enter the picture had helped him see what a mess he’d made of things. She’d forced him to look at himself, instead of blaming all his problems on his brothers.
Whatever her issues were, he wanted to do the same thing for her, wanted her to confide in him. He’d help talk her through to finding the answers she needed to heal herself from the past. However, he didn’t know if it would ever happen. He could tell she wanted to talk, but every time she started, she shut do
wn.
Even now, their evening had gone from one of eager anticipation of repeating their experience and making love, to him boiling water while she sulked inside the tent. Or whatever she was doing in there. He wasn’t certain and would never know if she didn’t open up and speak to him.
Finally finishing water duty as the sun slipped from view, Brad banked the fire and took in a deep breath, steeling himself to enter the tent. He wasn’t sure he could take another night of her facing away from him, refusing to acknowledge his presence despite his multiple attempts to get her to talk. She thought he had too many issues for her to handle a relationship together, but Brad wondered if she didn’t have just as many.
As he unzipped the tent to enter, something hit it from the inside, making it wobble on its flexible poles. When he stepped inside, Brad realized his backpack was in a different position than he’d left it. That must be what hit the tent.
“Were you going through my stuff?” he asked Chelsea’s back. “Not that I mind, but it seems peculiar, considering you bit my head off for getting food out of your bag.”
She turned, blinking owlishly. “I didn’t open it yet.”
Kicking off his shoes, Brad then crawled onto the cooling fabric of his sleeping bag. “Was there something you needed?”
“I... I needed to re—” Her eyes went wide, looking almost black in the waning light. “Did you bring condoms?”
The question seemed so far away from anything expected, Brad stared at her for several long moments before replying. “You were searching for condoms?”
“You said we could have more fun tonight.” Her tongue darted out, moistening the side of her mouth. “I need you, Brad.”
Even though he didn’t believe her about looking for condoms and figured something else was going on, the plaintive note in her voice tore at his heart. He couldn’t have her say she needed him and do nothing about it.
“Come here, doc.” He opened his arms, and Chelsea flung herself into his embrace, burying her head against his chest. He lay back, pulling her down with him. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing.” Her hand fluttered across his stomach, coming to rest below his beltline as she gripped the bulge there. “I need you, that’s all.” She squeezed him softly. “I need to feel that way again, the way you made me feel in the pool.”
He knew he should question her more, make her explain herself. Sex wouldn’t fix any of her problems, and he wanted to fix whatever had broken inside Chelsea Taylor.
However, when her hand continued its long strokes against his zipper, teasing his dick to life, all he wanted was to give her what she asked. He could worry about everything else later.
Putting on one of the condoms, Brad then took his time, not rushing to satisfaction. He stroked her with gentle fingers, mounting Chelsea’s pleasure until she cried out and her body shook with pleasure. During the sweet moment when he entered her for the first time, Chelsea gasped and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him all the way inside her and rocking her hips while she moaned louder than before.
Brad kissed her deeply as they moved together. Her luscious body surrounding him was the best thing he’d ever felt, and he hoped Chelsea knew how important this night was to him—how important she was to him.
* * *
Chelsea snuggled in Brad’s embrace, chilled by the night air across their sweaty bodies but unwilling to climb into her sleeping bag and lose contact with Brad. The even breaths making his chest rise and fall told her she’d exhausted him with their lovemaking. Hell, she was exhausted. He’d satisfied her two more earthshaking times before taking his pleasure. Only one thing kept her awake.
Brad hadn’t discovered her phone theft. She’d planned to return it to his bag earlier, but he walked in before she had a chance to do it. She’d also considered telling him the truth. To do that, she’d have to trust Brad would be level headed enough to understand and not become enraged. However, she couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk having him decide she was a liar and not worth his effort. Maybe she never expected anything to last long term, but she liked what they had right now and didn’t want to hasten its inevitable end.
She’d wait to make sure he was deeply asleep then sneak the phone back. Once she fixed that lie hanging between them, maybe she could relax and enjoy whatever was happening.
Despite his issues with his family, Brad was a wonderful man. She grew to like him more with every second they spent together. He honestly cared about her, wanted to get to know her and understand her on a deeper level than she expected anyone to want.
Every time she tried to tell him her fears, tell him why thoughts of a relationship terrified her, it was as if fear trapped her words. The logical part of her brain told her that talking would help her heal. After all, that’s what she did for a living—helped people talk through their fears and problems so those things no longer controlled their lives.
For far too long, Chelsea had thrown herself into her work, helping to fix other people so she could ignore the things about herself she didn’t want to examine. Talking to Brad would make it all real. There was also the fear that he would decide she wasn’t qualified to help others and might fire her. If he fired her for something legitimate like that, what could she do? It wasn’t sexual harassment if Brad discovered her secrets and decided she was a fraud.
Taking a deep breath, Chelsea forced herself to search deep and admit her real fears, even if only to herself. If she confided in Brad, told him everything about herself and her life, he might actually accept all that. He might smooth her hair away from her face, kiss her tenderly, and promise that everything would be okay.
But he couldn’t make that promise, not really. Chelsea knew all too well that everyone she loved left one way or another. It was out of Brad’s control as much as it was hers. If she let herself love him, he might disappear forever.
Chapter 19
Chelsea woke to light kisses across her face and someone shaking her shoulder.
“Come on, love,” Brad whispered. “You have to wake up. Time to pack our stuff and check out those lava rocks.”
Love? That was what Brad’s dad had called his mom at the dinner party. Was it a slip due to the familiarity of the word, or did he think of her in those terms?
Chelsea opened her eyes, forcing herself to smile in spite of the questions running through her brain.
Brad’s face hovered above her and he grinned, tenderly smoothing hair across her temple. “There you are. Good morning, doc.” He gave a flirty wink. “I think something must have really relaxed you yesterday. You passed out.”
Although she knew she shouldn’t, Chelsea couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around Brad’s neck and pulling him in for a good-morning kiss. None of the problems she’d considered last night were yet fixed, but he was so sweet, and the flicker of love in his eyes couldn’t be denied. She might be screwed up, but Brad cared for her in a way no man had before.
When they broke off the kiss, Brad lowered his weight on top of her, pressing his fuzzy cheek against her naked shoulder.
“Why don’t we just stay here?” he asked. “We have the hot spring and each other, which sounds pretty damned perfect to me. I thought the beach would be a romantic getaway to spend with you once we reached it, but this is good. Better, actually. I like it here.”
“The helicopter won’t look for us here at the end of our time,” she pointed out.
“It will if I call with our coordinates.”
If he called them? Damn. Chelsea had fallen asleep while waiting for Brad to be completely out. She’d never moved the phone to his bag.
“I’ll do it right now,” he continued, pushing away from her to sit up. “I’ll tell them to pick us up on schedule, but to come here instead.”
Oh, hell. He was going for his bag.
“Wait!”
Brad paused, turning to look at her. “You don’t like that plan?”
“I do,” she said, searching for a rea
son not to call. “But I thought we were adventurers? You said no one had explored the island beyond Quinn’s Grove, right? We can’t stop now. Right now, we’re at the highest point of the island, just before the lava rock barrier begins. We’ll remember this spot. We can come back another time to spend a romantic getaway.”
A smile broke out on Brad’s face, stretching wide. “You want to come back for a romantic getaway with me?”
“More than anything.” As long as something didn’t go wrong and take that opportunity away from her.
Brad whooped with happiness and spun back toward her for a kiss, pressing her against the ground as he covered her with his weight. “What do you say we extend the romance just a bit longer?” he asked, voice husky. “We’ll continue on to that beach if you want, but it can wait a few more hours. I love hearing you moan my name.”
* * *
Brad eyed the craggy lava rock around them with growing unease. Razor sharp shards jutted upward around them, and he had no doubt if one of them tripped and fell, they would regret crossing this dangerous path. However, the dagger-like rocks gave way to a path of black rock that was flowing in nature about fifteen feet out. He wasn’t an expert, but the smoothness of that dark path did nothing to calm his mounting nerves.
“I’m not sure, Chels. We shouldn’t chance crossing it. What if that area is deceptive? It could be hollow underneath. If it breaks with us on it, that could spell disaster.”
She paused alongside him, looking over the changes in the hardened lava. “Are you afraid there’s lava beneath it? I thought you said this wasn’t an active volcano.”
“Even a dormant lava tube is dangerous. It can collapse beneath our weight and drop us however far down it is to the bottom.”
Knowing from the helicopter surveillances that they would encounter this patch of land, Brad had viewed a few videos about what to expect from lava flows. However, most of the clips he watched had been about active volcanoes on the nearby Hawaiian Islands. After a cursory viewing, Brad had returned to survival stuff, more interested in learning what to do to survive the day-to-day portion of their trip. He wasn’t any sort of expert on what to expect out there, but the cramp in his stomach told him something was wrong.
Love's Ride (McCallister's Paradise Book 4) Page 13