Butterfly Ops

by Jen Doyle

  With the exception of yesterday’s fluky half hour away from the team, they’d barely had any time alone together even though being with just Brooks, Malek, and the guide, Joe, would make it a lot easier to get away with the little things. So if Ian had to put up with a little achiness because of holding her all night? He could certainly manage.

  He shifted and rolled over, wincing as his back hit the ground. Or, rather, where the scratches Lyndsey had given him the day before hit the ground.

  Not that he had any overall problems with Lyndsey’s digging her nails into his back—no problems with that at all. It would, however, be at least another day or two before the raw skin stopped stinging.

  Life with Lyndsey. He laughed to himself as he sat up. Not something for those with a low pain tolerance.

  It was just past sunrise, the sun low enough in the sky that it could barely be seen through the trees. Brooks and Malek were still in their tents; Lyndsey was nowhere to be seen. He figured she’d probably gone back into her tent after he’d finally fallen asleep. For as happy as he’d been to be holding her, he didn’t peg her as an outdoors fan. The tent wasn’t much better, but at least it was closed in.

  He did a few stretches. Though another hour of sleep was perfectly justifiable, it wasn’t really attainable—once Ian was up he was up. It was in his blood. These kinds of missions always made him feel his Minnesotan roots, back to a time when a day’s work was dictated by the rising and setting sun, not an alarm clock and the morning news on one end, prime time TV on the other.

  He rolled up his sleeping bag and grabbed his pack. Careful not to wake the others, he walked down to the shore about fifty yards away and splashed water on his face. He was about to get out the comm to check in when he noticed Lyndsey further down the beach. Her back was to him as she moved slowly, gracefully; outlined in shimmering gold thanks to the rising sun.

  For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t so much that she was stunningly gorgeous. That was just extra; the cherry on top. What really got him in a heart-stopping, poetry in motion kind of way were the things that weren’t right there on the surface. Like how soft her hair was when she bent down over him and let it fall across his face, or the way her eyes grew darker every time she smiled, deep in the night. The way her smooth skin yielded when he held her in his hands, only a hint of the steely muscle underneath.

  He walked towards her slowly, watching as she did her yoga. Her eyes were closed and her focus was turned within. He sat down far away enough not to disturb her; close enough to talk should she notice he was there. Which she did within seconds, of course.

  “You’re up early,” he said when she turned to him.

  “I know,” she answered smiling, not breaking her routine. “It’s this whole back to nature thing. Messing with my biorhythms. It’s really not like me.” She brought her arms up over her head and arched her back. “Care to join me?”

  “Um, no. I think I’ll pass.” He had tried yoga with Abby once. Hadn’t even managed Downward Dog before collapsing on the floor, laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

  “Oh, come on,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Zach and I do this all the time.”

  There was an image he’d rather not dwell on. Then again, there were very few images involving Zachary that Ian had any particular interest in dwelling on. “Really.” He shook his head as he stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his hands. “Not for me.”

  “What is for you?” She turned to him and then came over. Sinking down, she swung her knee over his legs and straddled his lap. “Oh,” she said, pushing against him and smiling at his quick intake of breath. “So watching isn’t so bad.”

  “Watching isn’t my preference.” He glanced towards the camp as her arms went around him and her mouth went to his neck.

  “They’re still asleep,” she mumbled.

  It was beyond tempting. Her tank top and yoga pants didn’t leave much to the imagination. But he just couldn’t do it. Not in broad daylight; not with Brooks and Malek’s tents in sight, even if just barely. Not without knowing when Joe would choose to show up or which direction he’d be coming from.

  She pulled at him a little, forcing him to straighten up against her; took his hands and placed them squarely on her hips.

  No.

  Unh-uh.

  Yesterday had been about as risqué as Ian got. He was still a little surprised he’d taken it that far, but the high of coming off the rapids and the way she had smiled and pulled him down… Plus, there was no way any one of those boats could have made it down the river in anything less than twenty minutes.

  That had been a nice twenty minutes.

  He closed his eyes as Lyndsey ran her hands up underneath his shirt.

  He looked back at the tents.

  They really were pretty far away. And Joe didn’t actually ever show up until later each morning, when they were all gearing up to leave. So maybe not completely out of the realm of possibility. Maybe something on the subtle side. Maybe if he just eased his hand down past the elastic of her pants…

  She gasped as his fingers brushed against her, began to play. “Ian?” she said in surprise. “I didn’t think…” Another gasp and her hands dropped to his waist; she leaned her head against his chest.

  “Mmm,” he said, smiling. “You were just teasing?”

  “Not…just…teas…” Her voice trailed off as he nuzzled her neck, his fingers moving ever so slowly. “I would’ve happily…” She turned her head and kissed him, her tongue invading his mouth.

  He let her set the pace, grinding against him and going faster as her breathing became more rapid and her kisses less focused. She drifted away from his mouth and brought her hand up to the back of his neck, keeping his face close to hers.

  Shifting forward and murmuring his name, she clutched him, clenching bunches of t-shirt instead of skin. He spread his hand, smiling as her eyes eased open.

  “Ian…” she said in this incredible, throaty voice that almost made him forget about Brooks and Malek and Joe and the whole out in broad daylight thing…

  Reaching down and grabbing his wrist, she stopped him. “That’s not enough.” She let go and traced her fingers down the back of his hand; looked up at him from under her eyelashes. “That’s not the part of you I want right now.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Any control he’d had earlier was completely gone. She was driving now, and he was just along for the ride. Which was blatantly obvious, seeing as she now had possession of his hand and was leisurely dragging it up past her waist, over her stomach, and underneath her tank top until it was resting on her breast.

  “Ian…” she whispered, rubbing up against him. His breath quickened, and she leaned forward and spoke softly in his ear with laughter in her voice. “You know this top is coming off. Just let me know if it’s here or in those trees over there.” She cocked her head at the grove fifty feet away.

  He looked again at the campsite—still no sign of life from Brooks or Malek. He looked back at her—all sex and sensuality, running her hands down his chest, hooking her finger into the waistband of his pants…

  It could be argued that this was not one of his better ideas; but hell, as long as it wasn’t in broad daylight, totally out in the open...

  They barely made it ten feet in. His back was to a tree, the pain in his shoulder totally forgotten as she stripped out of her clothes and pushed his pants down. He lifted her up, ran his hands down her arms. She smiled at the look on his face as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in slowly. Sinking down onto him and rolling her hips. Easing back up, never fully letting go. Moving so damned slowly—her hands running down his chest, pushing his shirt up over his head. Her fingers lazily playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

  “God, Lyndsey…” he groaned, grasping her waist and pulling her closer.

  “Mmm?” she asked dreamily. “Faster?” She gave him an evil smile and said, “Only if you’re good to me
.”

  He grinned and bent down, happily putting his mouth to her breast—tasting her, feeling her; giving her the attention she deserved.

  She closed her eyes; let her head fall back. “Okay,” she gasped. “Now fast.”

  His hands went to her waist and he turned them so she was the one braced against the tree. He drove into her, instinct taking over as she responded. He could feel her arms as they went around his neck and every part of her body as it melded into his. Her skin was everywhere—soft and warm. Her scent was entrancing—sweet and intoxicating. Her voice was…

  Christ. Her voice was husky and hoarse and raspy and, at the moment, urging him to go deeper and harder. Telling him not to stop. Telling him not to ever stop.

  And especially not to stop right now, because right now she was ready to…

  She shuddered and cried out, clutching him so tightly he thought he’d break in two. Her body went limp, her head fell to his shoulder, and for a few moments she was nearly still—breathing heavily, deeply, her breath hot and moist, driving him crazy. So fucking crazy, the way she was just resting there, knowing full well that it was pretty much unbearable to have her trembling and quivering against him. Agonizing, in fact, as she turned her head and her lips brushed his scar, her teeth skimmed his skin. She was grazing, biting gently. He had to fight to keep his knees from buckling; he reached his hand out to steady himself against the tree.

  And then she was in motion again—seizing control. Riding him. Taking him in.

  He buried his head in her hair. He was beyond rational thought, his body quaking at Lyndsey’s every move. Her skin, her scent, her voice enveloped him; her arms and legs encased him. She wrapped him into her shroud, sheltering him. Absorbed the blast when it came.

  It was a full minute before he was able to speak. Or, to be more specific, croak: “Well, that’s not a bad way to start the day.”

  She gave him a good, long kiss before saying, “You think we have time for a dip in the lake?”

  “As in a quick rinsing off dip?” he asked, highly aware that her bare chest was heaving against him.

  Her face was the picture of innocence as she slid down his body. Very slowly. “What other kind is there?” She reached down to grab her clothes and began to dress.

  As he pulled his pants back on, he said, “I can’t imagine.”

  With an impish smile she turned and ran back to where she’d left her toiletries kit on the beach and then rejoined him; they made their way through the trees, finding the water on the other side, stripped and jumped in.

  19

  No, Lyndsey thought, dunking her head underwater. Not a bad way to start the day at all.

  She came up out of the water and focused on where Ian was standing on the rock ledge above her. It was almost too pretty of a picture to be real, this idyllic little cove they’d stumbled upon. Unlike on the other side of the trees there was no beach here; just rocky ledges leading up to high cliffs surrounding a pool of deep, azure water.

  “Don’t I get a good-bye kiss?” she asked, resting against the ledge and looking up at him as she watched him get dressed.

  “No.” Grinning, he pulled his shirt on. “Every time I come into the water, it seems to take me a long time to get back out.”

  True. This was his third attempt to actually get his clothes back on. Didn’t mean she had to accept it though. “Oh, come on. All I have left to do is wash my hair.”

  “That’s what you said an hour ago.” He buttoned up his shirt and then crouched down, reaching his hand out to her hair as he reluctantly said, “I have to go check in. The longer I wait, the more shit I’m gonna get from Matt.”

  Matt, schmatt. She gave Ian a half-hearted pout. She would have turned up the wattage if it weren’t for the fact that he really did need to go—even she was feeling a little guilty about how long they’d been here. At least two hours, maybe three. All she knew for sure was that he’d started to get really antsy about twenty minutes ago. He was on the clock after all.

  Well, she supposed, so was she. She, however, was a consultant. Her clock had better hours. “How long do I have?”

  Ian looked at his watch. “Those guys are probably just waking up. We don’t need to leave for another hour. Take your time.”

  Lyndsey had always thought that military types woke up at the crack of dawn. Not so with Brooks and Malek. They’d probably sleep until ten, eleven o’clock every morning if Ian let them, as he’d done today. There was no rush, though; between all four teams, she knew they’d covered a lot more ground than Ian and Matt had expected in the first week. She’d even overheard Ian and Matt talk about cutting the trip short since they’d made such good time. To her great surprise, she was actually disappointed. She’d come to count on Ian being one of the first things she saw in the morning. Opening up her tent and seeing him there as he made breakfast or got the gear together or started up his own morning workout routine.

  With a playful smile, Lyndsey looked up and said, “You know where I’ll be if you change your mind.” She blew him a kiss, watching as he disappeared into the trees and headed back to the campsite.

  She wasn’t planning on it being too long before she followed him. Bathing in a lake—no matter how pristine or beautiful it was—was not exactly her idea of fun, especially when park regulations required that soap and shampoo be used sparingly and not while actually in the water. Having Ian’s company had made it a lot more appealing—it hadn’t exactly been hard to convince him to help her soap up and rinse off in the shade of the trees. Nor had it been much of a surprise when one thing led to another, and, well… It had been a nice morning.

  This time—seeing as she was all by her lonesome—wouldn’t take too long. She enjoyed the view as he headed down the path, and then pushed off the rocks. After an invigorating swim to the other side of the cove and back, she floated for a little while, soaking in the morning’s sunlight and letting the water ripple over her, completely at peace. She couldn’t believe how much she was loving this trip. Maybe after getting back to Boston they could get away for a weekend and go whitewater rafting up in Maine, just the two of them.

  She almost laughed out loud. Her thinking camping sounded like a good thing? Enticing even? Zachary would most certainly get a kick out of that one. Not that she’d be mentioning the sex part. Come to think of it, she wouldn’t be mentioning any of it since Zachary would probably figure out the sex thing in all of two seconds.

  There was a rustling on the ledge behind her. She smiled as she turned and said, “Came back for a little more…?”

  The words died in her throat as she realized it wasn’t Ian who had come to join her again, but instead a big—no make that huge—bear, rifling through her bag and making noises that did not sound at all friendly.

  Really?

  This was not part of her plans. What was supposed to happen next involved something yummy to eat.

  Well, maybe not so yummy given the military-provided MREs. Eating, though—that was key. Sex first, then food. That was the natural order of things. Bears did not figure in.

  So incredibly irritating. Plus she was starting to get cold.

  If it weren’t for the irregular shore jutting out in so many places—meaning she had no idea how far it would be—she could just try and swim back to the campsite. Of course there was also that whole being naked thing. She could just imagine walking up the beach without any clothes on: Hi Brooks, hey Malek. Ian and I were talking about things like tactics and strategy. There was no nudity involved. By the way—could you hand me that towel?

  Right.

  “Hey!” she shouted, trying to remember what you were supposed to do about bears. She thought it was one of those they’re-more-afraid-of-you-than-you-are-of-them type deals. So maybe yelling was the way to go. “Smoky! Get away from my things!”

  The bear looked at her curiously before dismissing her as harmless and turning its attention back to the bag. So much for that approach.

  It wasn’t
as though she’d never come up against something as strong as a bear before. She’d prefer to have clothes and shoes on, and a knife would be good, but she could do it if she had to. Still, it would be much nicer if this one would just go away.

  After ten minutes of sitting and waiting, it became very clear the bear wasn’t planning on going anywhere. It seemed very interested in Lyndsey’s toiletries bag and it was settling in.

  “Yogi! Don’t you have a family to get back to?”

  Now she was really getting cold—it was one thing to take a quick bath in the lake, or even a longer one if Ian were around. But sitting solo for however long it had been—half an hour?—when the temperature had barely hit seventy degrees was no picnic.

  Had she really been here for half an hour, or did it just seem like it? Regardless, why hadn’t Ian come to find her yet? She had certainly been here longer than it took to wash her hair; she’d think he’d start to get worried. Of course, if he did come to get her, he’d probably come weaponless. Not a good thing to stumble upon a bear unprepared, especially if you didn’t have weapons or superpowers.

  A horrible thought struck her. What if it was the other way around? What if the bear had stumbled upon the campsite first? If Brooks and Malek were still asleep and Ian had been preoccupied talking to Matt, none of them would have had a chance. What if they were lying there dead—no, at least try and think positively—wounded, waiting for her to come find them and get help.

  “Here’s the deal.” She slowly pulled herself out of the water and edged around towards her clothes, which were on the ground a few feet away from where the bear was sitting. “I’m going to just get my stuff while you stay right there.” She got to her clothes and eased them out of reach of the bear, ignoring the low growl coming from the animal as she quickly put them on.