Surely the arsehole was doing this on purpose. Well she wasn’t going to let him get to her, and she wasn’t going to give up. “What are you waiting for? I’m not getting any younger,” she taunted as she did her version of racing by him where he’d slowed to video her progress. She barely got the words out before she went down hard on a slick rock taking the skin off one palm and the opposite elbow.
He waltzed up to her, shoving the phone in his pocket. “You okay? You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” She shoved to her feet and did her best to bound off. But as they approached the summit, the zombie shamble was slowing to the baby elephant walk.
This time there was no view from the top as the mist closed in. Before she turned to begin the descent, he grabbed her by the arm. “Falls on an assent are way more forgiving than falls on a downhill. Slow up and pay attention. The worst injury I’ve ever had was on a descent. People have ended up in hospital, even died from falls going down.”
When she only nodded and tried to pull away, he yanked her back and held her gaze for a moment. Then he heaved a sigh. “I’m going first. You follow. Right behind me. I mean it.”
She nodded again and still he restrained her. “I want to hear you say it, Michaels.”
“I’ll stay right behind you,” she managed between gritted teeth. “Satisfied?”
***
Satisfied? Not by a long shot, he thought, as he began the descent moving slowly enough that he could almost feel her breath on his neck. Yes, he knew she was anxious to go faster, anxious to prove herself. That was one of the things he respected most about her. But she was reckless, just like he had been in those early days when he’d discovered the power of his own body, when he had been desperate to push the limits, to see what he could do. That was back when he thought he was invincible. But he was nowhere near invincible, and the hardest challenge he’d ever faced was breathing down his neck right now, and would be up close and personal for the next five weeks. How the hell was he supposed to keep his distance when already he could barely think of anything but finishing what they’d started in the pub?
When he’d agreed to the position, agreed to Claire’s scheming, he’d never imagined it could be so difficult.
Does Wolf have ice in his veins?
Melt Wolf’s icy heart, Lauren!
Heartless Wolf or just plain scared?
Christ, he hoped she hadn’t seen the morning’s Twitter feed, though PR was her business, so of course she would have. At least she had the good grace not to say anything. There was way too much truth being bandied around and way too lightly for his liking. Suddenly he lost his footing and would have fallen back on his arse if she hadn’t grabbed him beneath the armpits, literally falling forward onto him. Together they formed a Three Stooges sort of a wedge that kept either of them from going completely down.
“You okay?” Her breath was warm against his ear.
“Fine.” He was glad she couldn’t see the reddening of his face that was not from heavy exercise. “I told you descents are serious stuff,” he said, keeping his voice even, which was no small task as she placed her hand in the middle of his back and shoved both of them upright with the leverage of their bodies.
He was grateful when she said nothing. He didn’t dare look back at her, didn’t want to see if she was gloating. “You ready to go on?” He asked, which was a stupid question, since he’d been the problem, not her.”
By the time they reached the foot of the fell, the mist had cleared and the sun was out. The camera crew met them for the last bit of the descent.
When they reached the Land Rover, he nodded for her to sit down on one of the campstools that had been stowed in the back, then he grabbed the first aid kit. When she tried to protest, as he knelt in front of her and took her leg into his hand. “The Land Rover’s new. I don’t want you bleeding all over the upholstering.”
She gave a sharp hiss as he gently ran the antiseptic pad over and around the abrasion, and he chuckled softly. “The cleanup’s always the worst bit. Most of the time the injuries don’t hurt because of the endorphins and the adrenaline. Now let me see your palm.”
She did as he asked and watched while he cleaned it. “You said the worst injury you ever had was on a descent. What happened?”
His back stiffened in muscle memory. There were bones that still ached in the cold and rain, there was flexibility he’d never gotten back. But he tried not to dwell on what was the past. “Spinal injury coming off Swirl Edge on Helvellyn.” He hoped she didn’t notice the twitch of the muscles along his jaw as he recalled that awful day, a day that had been so exhilarating right up until he fell.
Thankfully the camera crew returned from shooting their descent route just in time to keep her from asking further questions.
Misty stuck a microphone in their faces. “How did you find your first fell run, Lauren?”
“Exhilarating. I had no idea it could be like this. It was truly amazing.”
The stiffness in Wolf’s spine became almost painful and the clench in his stomach nearly doubled him over. He’d thought one hard run would end it for her and she’d change her mind about fell running and choose something more traditional for her challenge, like a 10K or an obstacle course race or even a long walk. He hadn’t expected her to react the same way he had after his first fell run. And the truth was, she had done extremely well, if more reckless than he’d have liked. That shouldn’t surprise him. He had been reckless. That had been the cause of his fall. Being Claire Amos’s bad boy trainer on telly was one thing, but putting Lauren at risk- especially when he could see the all too familiar spark in her eyes—that was another thing entirely. He’d talk to Claire tonight. Surely between the two of them they could convince Lauren to choose something safer for her challenge.
Chapter 8
Explosions and Truths
Wolf was waiting for her at the bottom of Walla Crag, and the look on his face said he wasn’t here to wish her a good morning and bring her coffee and Danish.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He spoke softly, but the barely controlled anger in his voice was obvious to her and more than likely to the cameraman struggling to keep up.
“I’d have thought it was obvious,” she said, not breaking her pace, forcing him to fall into step next to her. “If you won’t help me train, then I’ll do it on my own.”
“I told you, you’re not ready for actual fell running yet.”
“Why because I fell a couple times on my first run? As I recall, you fell too, and it’s not like I haven’t had more than my share of bumps and bruises training with you. Besides. I’m taking your advice. I’m being cautious on the descents.”
“Damn it Michaels,” he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him, stopping her in her tracks. “I told you, you don’t train without my approval. You sure as hell don’t go off running on the fells alone. I’m your fucking trainer,” he exploded.
“Then fucking train me,” she jerked her arm free. “I told you what I wanted, and you ignored me.”
“Get that goddamn camera out of my face,” he yelled at the poor cameraman, then turned his wrath on her. “I haven’t ignored you. I told you ad nauseum, you’re not ready, and I’m not about to bring you out here and get you injured.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re not even taking me out walking let alone running. What the fuck, Wolf?”
“Are you questioning my authority, because—”
His cell phone rang a shrill jungle birdcall, and he jerked it from his pocket. Even Lauren could hear Claire’s unhappy voice on the other end.
“Both of you, not another word. Get back to the Wolf’s Lair, and meet me in the Closet. Stat.”
New training technique? Wolf and Lauren and the F-bomb toss.
Why's Wolf holding Lauren back?
Great form, Lauren! Come on Wolf! She is SO ready!
“You want to tell me what’s going on.” Claire spoke without so much
as a greeting. “I like tension between the two of you, but something else is happening here. What is it?”
“She can’t go running off on the fells alone like that. It’s dangerous. She has no navigation skills, no experience, no common sense.” He tossed his head toward Lauren without looking at her.
“I wouldn’t have to go off on my own if he would do his job,” she retorted
“She’s not ready.” In her peripheral vision Lauren could see the white-knuckle clench he had on the chair arms.
Claire gave them both a tight-lipped once-over and then addressed them. “He’s right, Lauren. You don’t know the fells well enough to go up by yourself.” Before Wolf could gloat she turned her gaze on him. “Lauren is ready, and you know she is, Wolf, so what’s going on?”
“The Bob Graham Round is sixty-six miles, forty-two peaks and twenty-seven thousand feet of ascent in twenty-four hours. How the hell can you say she’s ready?”
“I’m not stupid. I don’t expect to complete the whole thing for my challenge, but I can surely do one, maybe even two legs to get the feel for it. Then I can come back and tackle the whole thing when I am ready.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, Wolf.” Claire’s evil eye was now fully trained on Jennings. “Have you not discussed this option with Lauren?”
His silence was answer enough.
Just before Lauren could tear him a new one for not letting her know about his Closet discussions, Claire made an executive decision. “Here’s what will happen, you’ll train Lauren for one, possibly two legs of the Round. That’s the challenge she’s chosen, that’s the challenge she’ll get. Her choice gives us the exciting possibility of a fabulous follow-up down the line when Lauren is ready to tackle the whole Twenty-four hour challenge. But for now, we’ll get through the next five weeks and make the best of it. And there’ll be no more F bombs in front of the camera. Are we clear?”
They both nodded, Wolf looking like he could bite the corner off the computer desk.
“Good. Now go have breakfast and get on with it.” She cut the connection.
Wolf exploded up from his chair and practically tore the door off the hinges leaving without so much as a backward glance at Lauren.
***
For the next three days the training was brutal, and all of it was inside the hothouse environment of the Wolf’s Lair. There was nothing for it. A storm had blown in and there were high winds on the fells. Wolf ran her up and down the three flights of stairs within the facility endlessly, pausing on the landings for countless squats, press-ups and lunges. She could see the point to all that he did, and she could feel the steady improvements in stamina and strength. But she still didn’t like it – not when she wanted to be outside. For his part, Wolf had barely spoken to her since their little conference with Claire in the Closet. On the level of what the cameras saw, he was still the drill sergeant trainer, who excelled at torturing Lauren in ever creative ways. But she felt the change, felt the strain in the way he touched her, in the way he watched her, in the tightness in his voice that hadn’t been there before.
On the fourth day they awoke to clearing skies. “It’s only a lull in the storm,” Wolf said as they shoved their way into the Land Rover drinking their breakfast as they went. “The clearest spot seems to be over in the Honister area. With any luck we can manage a long run and still be back before the weather turns again.”
By the time they arrived at the car park of the Honister Mines, the sky was already overcast.
“We should go back,” he said.
“Would you do it?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she pushed. “I want to know, would you do it?”
“If it were just me, yes. I’d do it.”
“But you don’t think I can.”
“That’s not the point.”
“You either do or you don’t. Which is it?”
His lips pressed to a thin line, and he turned to hold her gaze. “If you’re with me, if you listen and pay attention and do exactly what I tell you, then yes, you can do it.”
She threw open the door and grabbed up her rucksack before he could say anything else. “You said it yourself, if I want to run on the fells I have to get used to a little weather.”
***
She was doing well—really well. Not that he was surprised by that. She had gone from being Claire’s reluctant victim to being a sponge that soaked up everything he taught her. He could have never imagined she’d progress so quickly once she finally made the decision. He had damn near convinced himself that he was being foolish. Countless people ran on the fells every day and the chance of serious injuries remained low. Clearly she loved it and she was good at it.
But then the rain started. By the time the mist descended and the wind decided to join the party, they were in the middle of the route on the backside of Fleetwith Pike. Returning the way they’d come was as difficult as moving forward.
“We’re roping up,” he yelled into the howl of the storm. “With the wind and the rain, I’m not sure we could hear each other if we called out, and being separated and lost in this soup could be fatal.” He secured a rope around her waist and then his, wishing like hell he’d endured her wrath and kept her out of the storm, safe back at the Wolf’s Lair.
She didn’t argue. He might have taken a smug bit of satisfaction from the lack of colour in her face and the shine in her eyes he recognised as fear, but he figured the same shine was in his eyes as well. They trudged on as the wind rose. Twice she slipped and fell all but dragging him down with her. The wind had become a constant roar and the rain in their faces stung like needles. There was no running. They were lucky to manage one foot in front of the other.
They were right at the stone bothy before he saw it in the mist. The relief at the sight nearly took his breath away. He tugged the rope, pulling her to him. He’d never been so thankful to see anything in his life. At least here he could keep her safe—that is if he didn’t kill her for forcing the issue.
“Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?” He shoved her inside a little more roughly than he’d intended and she tripped and fell. When he reached to help her up she elbowed him away.
“What the hell’s the matter with you? Do you just not know how to behave in human company or is it just me you hate?”
“Oh believe me, it’s just you, and I would be fine around you too, Michaels, if you weren’t such a pain in the arse.”
For a terrible moment hurt washed over her face, and he felt it like a gut punch. Then she swallowed hard and let her pack slide from her shoulders. “Why? What have I done? I mean I know I’m not your ideal client, but Jesus. Neither of us wanted it this way. I’ve tried to make the best of it. I don’t know what else I can do. Why are you so fucking mean?”
“Because I want you safe, because I don’t want you hurt and because you drive me crazy.” He slammed his pack down hard. “Damn it, Lauren, can you not see I want you so damn bad I can hardly stand it.”
For a moment they both stood unmoving, mouths open for words that didn’t come, as though they’d been freeze framed on the spot.
Then before she could do more than offer a little gasp of surprise, he all but launched himself at her. Her breath came in a harsh grunt as he forced her back against the wall. And before either of them could engage any sort of logical thought process, they were seriously mouth to mouth—teeth clashing, tongues thrusting and probing, lips bruising. In the semidarkness it was more about feeling than it was seeing, and the feel of her stiffened nipples pressing through their mutually wet clothing was enough to make him forget his own name. They were both goose fleshed and shivering, and it did nothing but make their need more raw. He was painfully hard and, as she lifted her legs around his waist, the press of her centre rubbing up against his erection—which wasn’t the least put off by the weather—was nearly enough to make him come.
He swallowed a harsh curse. “Christ, we can’t do this. We can’t do this, Lauren.”
&n
bsp; “I know. We’ve got to stop.”
The whole exchange happened between efforts to eat each other’s faces off. He tripped and fell backward over his pack and she yelped as he pulled her down on top of him.
They both tugged condoms from zipped pockets at the same time and burst out laughing. “Great minds,” he said. Then he slid her shirt off over her head. She did battle with her bra until he gazed up at her goose-fleshed breasts, and she leaned forward as he cupped them and took them in turn into his mouth.
The friction of the rake and shift of her crotch against his erection was maddening, and the thrust and grind between them became flat out dry humping as she fumbled with the condom.
“Get ‘em down,” she ordered and lifted her hips enough that he could battle with his shorts and pants until his bare butt pressed against cold rock. The discomfort was swiftly forgotten as, from a cat stretch, she shimmied out of her own shorts and knickers and kicked them violently off over her shoes. With a little awkward fumbling they managed the condom. As he fingered her open, she cursed his cold hands, but that didn’t stop her from sheathing him deep and tight. It didn’t stop either of them from freezing on the spot to breathe and steady themselves to keep it all from coming to an end way too soon. One deep breath, then another, and they began to thrust and shift and groan their pleasure. Her breasts swayed and danced with the hypnotic rhythm of their urgency, and he grabbed onto her hips to sheath himself still deeper inside her. All breathing stopped, muscles strained, joints popped and everything was suspended in the moment somewhere between the howl of the wind and the lash of the rain. Then they came, falling into each other with grunted epithets and tight whispers of each other’s name.
British Bad Boys: A Bad Boy Romance Boxed Set Page 19