“Yes.” She didn’t have a firm grasp on what was happening between them, but she wanted to be close to him.
“Okay.” He rose and patted his leg for Puck. They strolled toward the tree line, and Joss admired them both.
Sleek, smart, and so, so sweet. How could anyone meet the pair of them and not fall a little bit in love?
She sure wasn’t that strong. But it wasn’t fair to Shep for her to make her feelings too clear. He obviously wouldn’t understand that she could care about him and still care about her music more. Not that she was seriously considering a long-term relationship after knowing a man for less than three days. But North Carolina was hardly a music mecca. And he’d made it clear this was his forever home.
It suited him. Suited him and his dog.
Joss crawled into the tent. Shep’s sleeping bag was arranged just so on his thin air pad. He would need all that space, so she moved to the far side of the tent and used her pack as a pillow.
The day caught up with her, and she let sleep take her under.
It was full dark when Joss blinked out of sleep at the feel of an arm wrapping around her torso and a hand covering her breast. She opened her mouth to scream when she realized where she was. Safe. With Shep.
Maybe he’d just rolled over in his sleep and done what tended to come naturally when two people slept together. But then warm lips brushed the back of her neck.
He was kissing her neck. Kissing her with the softness of eyelashes sweeping a cheek. The sensation made Joss’s heart swell and stilled her breath. “Shep?” she wheezed out.
He froze. “This wasn’t okay, was it? You were asleep. That means no consent. Consent is important. Consent is required.”
She caught his hand before he could pull away, pressed it firmly to her chest. “It’s perfectly normal for lovers to touch one another, sometimes even when they’re sleeping. Of course, you really want to make sure he or she is awake for the main event. But a kiss or caress is fine.”
“But you did not say yes.”
“I’m saying yes now.” Her words propelled them both to action, and it was a crazy tangle of arms to shed their clothes inside the small space. Joss flung her shirt, and it landed on Puck. He gave a disgusted grunt and curled up tight in the corner, his back to them.
Joss giggled. Seriously giggled. “My bathtub back in LA is bigger than this tent.”
“Next time, you can say yes in your bathtub,” Shep said, putting his hands all over her recently bared breasts.
But would he be there for her to say yes to? Joss didn’t want the truthful answer to her own question, so she asked, “How do you want to do this?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re telling me you don’t have a plan? That you didn’t have the whole thing mapped out in your head when you were kissing me?”
“Maybe.”
“Then lead on, General Kingston.”
“I like that.” And she liked hearing the smile in his voice. “You may call me the General.”
“Great,” she teased. “Now I find out that you’re into dominance.”
“No,” he said as he handled protection. “I am going to be into you.”
He was good to his word, flipping Joss onto her back and somehow settling himself between her legs as if he’d choreographed the whole thing as the most efficient ballet ever danced. Sleep was still fogging Joss’s brain, and she instinctively ran her hands up his arms to rest lightly on his shoulders.
Then she remembered and tried to pull them away.
“Don’t,” he said. “I like it when you touch me.”
“Even like this?” She purposefully skimmed her fingers up and down his biceps.
His big body shuddered, one all-over earthquake. “Again. Just a little more pressure.”
This time, she pressed with her nails, outlining his triceps muscles, bulging from holding his weight off of her. He shuddered again, and a guttural groan rolled from his throat.
That sounded promising. Joss used her short nails to trace the same path. Shep’s hips jerked, and his erection rubbed against her lower belly. Even more promising.
She lifted and opened her knees, offering herself. “Come inside me.”
She wasn’t prepared for what he did next. Shep didn’t shove his way inside.
He slid. Slowly. Sinuously. Sensuously.
Joss’s eyelids drooped with the pure pleasure of it. “Oh. Oh, yes.”
When he was fully seated, he lowered himself to his elbows and pressed his cheek to hers. And if his gentle entrance into her body hadn’t twisted something inside her, this would have.
“Okay?” he asked.
“So okay.”
He rocked into her. Slow, lazy strokes that wiped her mind, stoked her body, and stripped her heart. It was deep and dreamy and so intimate that Joss wasn’t sure if she wanted to wallow in it or run away from it. The power of it engulfed her because she knew that Shep was touching her in a way he’d never touched anyone in the past.
With a long stroke down his strong back, she shifted her touch from his shoulders to his butt. Work of art. Each cheek was an overflowing handful of perfection.
As he slid in and out of her, his muscles flexed and relaxed. With her fingertips, she pressed into the hills and hollows. Shep’s rhythm picked up tempo. Not too fast, just enough to let her know he was affected by her touch.
“I like the way you feel, Shep Kingston,” she breathed, turning her face into his neck. He smelled so good—like cool water and woodsmoke. “I like the way you feel against me, inside me.”
Gently, she set her teeth against the cords in his neck and nipped.
That quickened his rhythm as if she’d spurred him in the sides and hollered Giddy-up! Three powerful pumps, driving her head up against the wall of the tent.
“Slow, easy, slow,” Shep chanted to himself like some sort of sexual mantra. His hips slowed again, rolling into hers with the movement of ocean waves. Inexorable, incessant, unstoppable.
The coiling tension in Joss’s belly twisted and spread—up, down, all around. He was taking her to a different place, a location that didn’t exist on this plane, in this world. Her heart thrummed against his, whispering a prayer and sending out a plea.
Be with me.
Care for me.
Accept the real me.
“Shep, I… oh…” The sensations, the feelings swept up, over, and simply swamped her. Overloaded her until her body and brain were blindly tossed into a primitive mode of seek and connect.
It curled through her, sensation breaking over sensation. Her orgasm was nothing less than indulgently luscious. Like the finest chocolate melting on her tongue. She didn’t want it to end—didn’t want the flavor and texture to fade. She wanted to taste it forever even as she swallowed it all.
Still, he moved against her, rocking his hips in an ongoing pattern of pleasure. Her fingers digging into his glutes, he surged against her like those ocean waves whipped up by high winds. Crashing against her until she surrendered fully, and he did the same.
* * *
Puck barked—a raw, sharp sound—and Shep shot out of the most satisfying sleep of his life like a marble fired from a giant slingshot. Joss was draped across him with a boneless pressure that was more comforting than the thickest blanket in his home. Her little body was putting off heat, making Shep sweat.
Making it feel as though a dragon was licking at his skin.
Murky shadows danced and flickered outside the tent. Just a full moon.
He shut his eyes against the light. Puck nudged his shoulder and whined, a sound of fear and concern. Shep’s eyes popped open again. He shouldn’t be able to see anything outside the tent because the moon was a waxing crescent.
The illumination wasn’t anything so benign.
He grabbed Joss by the shoulders and shoved her to the side. “Wake up. Right now!”
“Wha…” She thrashed against him in her sleepy confusion, catching him just under his l
eft eye with her fist. “Don’t—”
Another shake and a light tap on her cheek. “Now, Jojo. Our camp is on fire.”
By this time, Puck was on his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the zipped tent flap and whining. The flames outside were higher than the dog was tall.
Joss was flailing, trying to find her clothes and put them on.
“We don’t have time for you to get dressed,” Shep said. “You and Puck have to get out of here.” He flicked open his multi-tool and cut an inverted T shape into the opposite side of the tent. He wriggled halfway out the hole to determine if the fire had surrounded them.
Almost, and the flames were climbing higher with every second that passed. They didn’t have time to waste. They needed to be on the opposite side of that fire wall. He crawled out of the tent and immediately reached back in and dragged Joss out into a naked, confused heap. “Puck, outside!” he said.
His dog lunged out, but tried to back up when he saw the fire.
“Sit.”
Puck’s haunches hit the dirt, but he didn’t look away from the circle of flames around them.
Shep swept an arm inside the tent to hook his pack, Joss’s guitar, and anything else handy. How was he going to get Joss and Puck out of this fire without hurting them?
The pieces of microfiber he and Joss had used to wash and dry with earlier were still damp. Shep dumped what was left of their maple water over Joss’s head and over Puck’s head and back.
“What the hell?” Joss asked.
He thrust one of the microfiber cloths at Joss. “Put this over your head and face.”
“But—”
“Do it.”
He tied the other around his dog’s head like a do-rag. When he turned to look at Joss’s progress, she was fumbling, and the cloth kept falling to the ground.
“Come here,” he demanded. He used his length of cord to tie it over her head.
“Now, take Puck and run.”
“Through the fire?”
“There’s a narrow gap.” He pushed her forward. “That’s the only way out.”
“What are you going—”
“Shut up and do it,” he yelled. “Drop to the ground and roll when you get to the other side. Do it now.”
Joss’s eyes were huge in her pale face, and Shep wrapped her fingers around Puck’s collar. Then he snapped his fingers and said, “Release, Puck.”
Following Puck, Joss ran toward the ring of fire. Shep’s stomach tried to claw its way out of his body as he watched them plunge into the tiny gap in the orange and white wall and disappear.
If anything happened to either of them, he… He didn’t know how he would survive.
Shep glanced around for anything he could use to fight the fire, but he just didn’t have enough supplies to kill it from inside. He needed a water source.
He gathered up the clothes and shoes scattered on the ground and shouldered his pack and the guitar. Then he ran like hell.
19
His hair is burning. It was the only thought Joss’s brain would produce as Shep lunged through the flames surrounding the tent they’d been sleeping inside less than three minutes earlier. He released his grip on his pack and Fiona, and then, as he’d demanded she do, he dropped to the ground and rolled, but his movements didn’t extinguish the licks of fire on his head.
Joss stumbled toward him and did the only thing she could think of—she whacked him with a small cedar branch, slapping him in the head with the green needles.
Smack, smack, smack.
Smack, smack, smack.
Smack, smack, sma—
The branch was wrenched from her hands. “Jojo, it’s okay.”
No. No, it wasn’t. He’d forced her and Puck to leave him behind. What if he hadn’t been able to escape? He could’ve fallen. Broken a leg. Been burned to death.
Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the ground. Her face found a safe resting spot in her palms, and she blocked out everything. The night, the fire, Shep.
“We need to move back,” he said and grabbed her by the arm to drag her up. “Closer to the waterfall. I have to put out this fire. If the fire spreads this way, you and Puck can climb down and get in the water.”
They made it to the ledge, but Joss was fairly certain she hadn’t carried her own bodyweight. She dropped down to sit, and Shep was right there, squatting in front of her and running his hands all over her body. “Are you okay? Are you burned anywhere?”
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. Check Puck.”
Shep did the same with his dog. “Roll, Puck.”
Puck lay down and rotated to his back so Shep could inspect his paws.
“Is he okay?”
After inspecting each paw, Shep gave Puck’s release command and the dog rolled to his stomach. “His paws might be a little sore for a while.”
“I’m so sorry. I could’ve carried him.”
“How much do you weigh?”
“What?”
He eyed her. “A hundred pounds or so? Well, Puck is seventy-five. If you had tried to carry him, you would have been unsteady and possibly fallen into the fire. You’re both better off because you didn’t carry him.”
Shep grabbed the bladder and climbed down the ledge. He returned with water, but when she would’ve stood to help him put out the fire, he said, “Stay here with Puck. I don’t want him to accidentally stumble into the fire.”
To hell with that. Joss hurried into a pair of shorts, one of Shep’s T-shirts, and her shoes. Then she tethered Puck to a sturdy bush and gave him a down command. She grabbed all the clothes she wasn’t wearing and climbed down to dunk them. When she made it back to the campsite, Shep had doused some of the fire.
With the wet clothes, she slapped at the remaining flames, knocking them down. Shep glanced at her, and his face hardened. “I told you—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “And let’s make sure this thing is out.”
It took them several more trips down to the water and back again to refill the bladder and rewet the blackened clothing. Silently, they worked side by side, with Shep kicking up the last smoldering areas and Joss smothering them with her clothes.
From the scorched circle around Shep’s half-burned tent, Joss realized the fire hadn’t been as huge as it had looked. Dangerous, yes. But the whole thing was no bigger than her living room rug.
Finally, Shep grunted his satisfaction with their fire-fighting efforts and said, “We need to check on Puck.”
Back at the ledge, Puck was still lying near the shrub, so Joss turned to Shep and demanded, “Come here. I want to look at your head.”
“I’m fine.”
“Now, Harris Sheppard Kingston, or I am going to lose my shit this very second.”
He blinked and sat with his back to her so she could paw through his hair like a flea-seeking orangutan. In the pale early morning light, she muttered to herself as she checked him for scalp burn. Except for the spot around his crown, his gorgeous hair was unscathed. And even that scorched area was just burned down to a crewcut. It stunk. Hell, they all stunk. But that was it.
Joss pushed Shep away and huddled into herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and shoving her face into her knees. She didn’t want to see Shep’s head or his face.
She didn’t want to see anything, especially not the memory of the fire’s menacing glow.
“We need to assess what to do next.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to reassess. I want to sit right here until a search and rescue group comes and—”
“We can’t do that because—”
“Dammit, Shep! I need a minute here!” She immediately felt like crap for yelling at him, but she couldn’t manage both of them right now. Holding herself together was stretching it.
“Okay. Then I’m going to go look and see if I can figure out how the fire started.” A strong hand passed gently over Joss’s bowed head. “Puck, stay with Jos
s.”
She heard him stride away, and a sudden chill swooped over her skin. How was that possible when they’d almost burned up a few minutes ago? Joss abandoned her armadillo impersonation and stretched out on the ground to curl around Puck, absorbing his warmth and his steadiness. “Puck is a good boy. The best dog in the world. So strong and brave.”
He raised his head at the praise, his ears lifting as well. Joss stroked the silky fur to comfort them both. “Nothing fazes you, does it? Not dead bodies, raccoon men, or raging fires.”
Puck dropped his head, resting it in the crook of her neck. It didn’t escape Joss that the position gave him a perfect view of their destroyed campsite. He would see the second Shep walked back this way. He would see if anyone else snuck up.
Joss stayed snuggled up with Puck until he lifted his head and his mouth stretched into a doggie smile. Because she knew it was Shep approaching, her stomach relaxed a little.
“Your shirt—well, my shirt—is on backward,” he pointed out.
For whatever reason, that made her smile. “And the clothes you grabbed didn’t seem to include a pair of underwear.” Hell, she’d just run through fire naked; she could handle going commando for now.
“You used everything else to help put out the fire. I was mad when you did that.”
“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t any way I was going to let you put it out alone.”
Shep sank down beside her and sighed. “I never imagined you would have to be this brave. Jojo, I’m sorry about the fire.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I thought I made sure the campfire was out last night.”
“Of course you did.”
“Then why did our camp burn?”
Joss squinted, recalling the arc of the fire, how it looked as Shep jumped through it, as she beat him with a branch. “Doesn’t it seem strange that it would’ve burned in a circle around us instead of in a line? That wouldn’t have happened if it sparked from the campfire, would it?”
“Why didn’t I think of that? Are you saying you think someone set it?”
“Yes, and I’m wondering if whoever did this is the same person who… who…”
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