Take on Me

by Sarah Mayberry

  In turn, she told him about her parents’ deaths, how she’d been angry for so long afterward but had finally come to terms with their absence from her life. Splitting the bar of chocolate, they talked about work, swapping war stories and gossip and laughing till their sides ached over in-jokes.

  Finally their stockpile of wood dwindled and the fire began to fade.

  “Bedtime, methinks,” Sadie said. In the last dying light, she brushed her teeth and washed her mouth out with river water, being careful not to swallow. She could see Dylan doing the same on the other side of the campfire as she stowed her gear away and crawled inside the tent.

  Untying her shoelaces and sliding her shoes off, she admitted to herself that she was nervous. And excited. She was very, very attracted to this man. He was the most exciting lover she’d ever had, and he made her laugh almost as much as he challenged her creatively and intellectually.

  She frowned into the darkness as she unzipped her sleeping bag. Dylan’s very attractiveness scared her so much. If Greg hadn’t turned out to be a wimpy jerk, she’d be married right now. Would she have still found Dylan as attractive if her marriage had gone ahead? And if the answer was yes, what did that say about her feelings for Greg—and for Dylan?

  She pulled her knees up tight to her chest and rested her chin on them, fretting. She didn’t trust herself anymore. She’d put all her eggs in Greg’s basket, and he’d dropped them spectacularly. She simply didn’t trust herself not to make the same mistake twice.

  What did she know about Dylan, after all? Yes, he had a hard, sexy body, and he seemed to instinctively know how to please her. He was a successful writer, a sensitive observer of other human beings. But he was also thirty years old, and still single. Not once had he mentioned a serious relationship in his past, a failed marriage or a live-in girlfriend. What did that say about his ability—or willingness—to commit?

  The tent flap rustled, and she stiffened as Dylan entered.

  “I put the fire out, in case Smokey the Bear was on patrol,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Uncurling her body, she lay on her back and shuffled as far to one side as she could.

  “What are you doing?” he asked after a moment.

  “Making room so you can share the sleeping bag,” she explained.

  There was a small silence. “Let me get this straight—you’re asking me to share the bag?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Forget the bet. Unless you want to freeze to death?”

  The sound of him sliding into the unzipped bag answered her question. She rolled onto her side facing away from him. For a moment they were both quiet, then Dylan cursed under his breath.

  “I swear there are about a million rocks underneath me,” he said grouchily.

  “Think of it as therapeutic. Like a shiatsu massage.”

  “You obviously have a much better imagination than me,” he said.

  She tensed as she felt his arm slide around her waist as he snuggled up to her back.

  “Ah, Dylan?”

  “Yes?”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Conserving body heat. I’m sure Ranger Dan would approve. I believe the Native Americans call it spooning.”

  She couldn’t help herself—she laughed. And she didn’t push him away. It was much warmer with him curled against her back, even if it was doing crazy things to her heart rate.

  He felt so good. Hard, hot. Masculine. Her breath caught as she remembered how he’d looked naked. She curled her hands into fists and pressed them against her chest, just in case they took it upon themselves to reach out and touch him without permission.

  His breath tickled the back of her neck, and she shifted her position minutely, hoping he couldn’t feel how quickly she was breathing. Her new position brought her into firmer contact with his hips, and she stilled when she felt something very firm and hard nudging her bottom.

  “Dylan,” she said warningly.

  “It’s not my fault. You’re a beautiful, desirable woman, and I’m only human.” He shrugged. “Ignore it. It’ll go away.”

  As if to prove his point, he tightened his arm more securely over her body and snuggled in closer.

  Sadie stared into the darkness. Ignore it. He wanted her to ignore his erection, even as he pressed it against her backside.

  She tried counting sheep, but all she could think about was how easy it would be to turn around and slide her hand down between his legs to take him in hand. She licked her lips, imagining taking him in her mouth.

  “I can’t do this,” she said after five minutes of pure torture. “I can’t sleep with…that pressed up against me.”

  “Okay. I’ll take care of it,” he said.

  She felt an abrupt chill as he rolled away, then heard the metallic whisper of his zipper. There was a rustle of clothing, then his arm brushed hers as he began to move rhythmically.

  She froze. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “What do you think I’m doing? I’m taking care of it.”

  Instantly her mind filled with an image of how he must look—his own large hand wrapped around his swollen shaft, his eyes half-closed as he slicked his palm up and down, up and down. Desire flooded her like a tidal wave. There was no way she could lie here while he touched himself like that—not when she was the one who wanted to do the touching so badly.

  “Damn,” she muttered under her breath. Then she reached for the waistband of her jeans.

  She felt him still as she wriggled out of her jeans and panties.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What do you think is going on?” she asked, deliberately echoing his earlier words as she pulled her bra and T-shirt over her head.

  “I think—I hope—that you’re taking your clothes off,” he said.

  “Bingo. Now get your hands off my property,” she said, pushing his hands away from his erection.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. She heard the smug amusement in his voice and knew she’d played right into his hands.

  “Laugh it up, buddy,” she said, getting a firm grip on him. “Wait till you can’t walk tomorrow.”

  “A risk I am more than prepared to take.”

  She felt him lean toward her, and she automatically angled her head to meet his kiss. His tongue was hot and wet as he invaded her mouth, and she moaned encouragingly as his hands slid over her breasts.

  He alternately plucked at her nipples and smoothed his palms over her breasts as they kissed, long, slow, deep kisses that made her ache to have him inside her. She could feel how wet she was, ready for him to fill her, and she shifted her hips impatiently.

  “We’ve got all the time in the world,” he whispered in her ear as he began to nibble his way down her neck.

  “You’ve got too much clothing on,” she said, tugging impatiently at his T-shirt. He obliged by pulling away from her for a moment to struggle out of his T-shirt and shorts. The hot press of his naked skin against hers was so welcome that she laughed with relief.

  “Amen,” he said, ducking his head to pull a nipple into his mouth. She smoothed her hands over the planes and angles of his shoulders and back, slowly working her way around to his belly. Trailing her fingers through his hair, she found his erection again. Gently pushing him away from her breasts, she encouraged him onto his back. Stopping first to tongue his flat nipples to full arousal, she began to blaze a trail down his chest.

  “Sadie,” he said warningly as she slithered lower.

  “Shut up.”

  Holding him firmly in one hand, she ran her tongue across the velvety head of his erection. She could feel his belly tense beneath her other hand, and she smiled to herself and took him fully into her mouth.

  He made an inarticulate, needy sound, and she began to swirl her tongue over the head of his erection, sliding her hand simultaneously up and down his shaft. He tasted amazing, and she gloried in her power as he shifted restlessly beneath her hands.

&nbs
p; “Enough,” he said suddenly, his hands clamping onto her shoulders to pull her away. Before she knew what was happening, she was on her back and he was on top of her, his hardness nudging at her wet, swollen entrance.

  She lifted her hips, silently encouraging him to take her. But every time she tried to force his penetration, he retreated a little, and she knew he was grinning, despite the fact that she couldn’t see his face.

  “You enjoying yourself there?” she panted.

  “Oh, yeah. But not nearly enough yet,” he said. She felt the faint friction of his body sliding down hers, and then his hands were curling around her inner thighs, pushing her legs apart. The first, hot dart of his tongue on her sensitive center almost set her off, and she fisted her hands into the sleeping bag and groaned.

  “Let it go, baby. No one’s here to hear you.”

  As though he’d given her permission to do something she’d always wanted to, Sadie began to vocalize her pleasure. She moaned. She cried out. She talked dirty, encouraging him as she came closer and closer to orgasm.

  “Yes. I want you inside me, Dylan,” she finally demanded, sliding her hands into his hair and trying to pull him away.

  “Go away, I’m busy,” he said, his voice muffled by his close contact with her body.

  “Get up here now!” she ordered, giving his hair a far from gentle tug.

  “Ow. That hurt.”

  She had his attention now, and she sat up so she could reach his erection.

  “Where’s that jumbo box of condoms?” she asked impatiently as she slid her hand up and down his shaft.

  “Would it be really crass for me to mention a certain bet at this stage in proceedings?” He laughed as he reached for his backpack.

  “What do you think?” she said, her breath catching in her throat as she heard the telltale crinkle of a foil packet. Any second now, and she would have what she craved.

  He settled his weight between her legs, his erection pressing against her slick inner lips.

  “I think that you are almost too hot to handle,” he said, then he flexed his hips and plunged inside her.

  She bit her lip and tried to contain the cry of ecstasy that came to her lips, but it was too much, and she was already falling apart, her muscles pulsating around him. His voice whispered in her ear as she quivered and clutched at his back, encouraging her, pushing her further over the edge. And all the while he thrust inside her, his butt tensing and relaxing, his breath coming in panting gasps.

  As the last ripples of her orgasm left her, she rocked her hips back and wrapped her legs around his hips. Locking her ankles together, she answered each of his thrusts with one of her own, hands clawing at his shoulders, teeth bared as she began to climb toward release yet again.

  His hands slid up and down her body, tracing the curve of her hip, dipping into the crease of her backside, smoothing over the sensitive skin beneath her arms. His head dipped, and she felt the wet firmness of his tongue on her nipples, and suddenly she was coming again, her head thrashing from side to side, her back arching as she cried out his name.

  She felt him tense, too, then his big body shuddered, and he pressed his face into her neck and whispered her name as he came.

  He slumped on top of her, spent, and she soothed circles on the smooth skin of his back, relishing the weight of him between her thighs. She felt completely, utterly satisfied.

  After a while, he rolled off her and Sadie sighed. A long moment passed and slowly she registered that his breathing had deepened. She nudged him with her elbow.

  “Don’t go falling asleep,” she said.

  “Don’t worry. Sleep is the last thing on my mind,” he said.

  “Just as well. Because like I said, I will not sleep with you,” she said, mocking her earlier promise.

  “I got that. And I respect it, believe me.”

  She knew he was smiling. She was, too—the broad, smug smile of a satisfied woman who knows she’s about to get more of the same.

  Getting lost, it turned out, definitely had its advantages.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Dylan woke with a crick in his back from the rocky ground and a numb arm from where Sadie had fallen asleep resting on his shoulder. Lifting his head, he stared down at her face. Even in sleep her mouth was curved into a smile, and he wondered how he’d ever convinced himself she was uptight or shrewish. As he watched, her eyelids fluttered and her mouth opened on a soft sigh. He knew the exact moment that she came to full consciousness—she tensed, then immediately rolled away from him.

  Smiling wryly to himself, he clenched and unclenched his fist a few times to get his circulation going, and waited for her to say something.

  “What time is it?” she finally asked in a very subdued voice. Not quite the same saucy vixen who’d kept him awake all night with her passionate demands—but he’d expected as much.

  “A little after six, I think. If we start out soon, we might be able to catch the others at the camp before they pack up and come looking for us.”

  “Okay.”

  He watched as she fumbled around for her clothes, trying to gather them while holding a corner of the sleeping bag to her chest for modesty.

  “But first, I figured we should have another swim,” he said, rolling to his knees.

  She froze and stared at him, her eyes widening as he backed out of the tent and stood in the clearing, stark naked. He could read the longing and regret in her face, and knew exactly what she was going to say. He didn’t want to hear it.

  “Dylan—” she began, but he reached in to grab her ankle.

  “After our swim,” he said.

  In the end, he had to carry her down the bank and toss her into the deepest part of the river, and they splashed around and swam and floated for twenty minutes before clambering out of the icy water. She was shivering as she tried to pat herself dry with yesterday’s T-shirt, and he pulled her close, warming her with his body. Being close to her had its usual inevitable effect and soon they were kissing and he was backing her into the tent and sliding into her with a sigh of relief. This was what he craved, only this, he thought as he buried himself inside her. He was utterly captivated by her—the little hitch she got in her breathing when he entered her, the greedy way she eyed his body, her amazing responsiveness. Moving languidly, he prolonged each thrust, glorying in the slide of his body inside hers. Her head began to move restlessly from side to side, and he captured her mouth with a kiss. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and dug her fingers into his butt, urging him to go faster, harder, deeper. He resisted, keeping it slow, building them slowly, savoring the pleasure.

  Only when she was sobbing and he was shaking did he step up the pace, and within seconds she came apart beneath him, her cries of ecstasy echoing in the clearing. He held her close as he found his own peak, her name on his lips as he lost himself inside her.

  They lay staring up at the peak of the tent for a while before she finally stirred.

  “When we go back to L.A….” she said, her voice heavy with regret.

  “I agree. We should probably keep things under wraps. No need for everyone to know our business,” he said easily.

  She blinked, then stared at him.

  “We can’t do this again,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing on earth.

  “Haven’t I heard that before? Wait, it’s coming to me…. I’ve got it—that’s what we said the first time, yeah? And the second time. And again last night. Seeing a pattern here?” he asked.

  She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, looping her arms over them. He resisted the urge to touch the delicate vertebrae of her spine. Sometimes she seemed infinitely fragile, even though he knew she was as tough as nails.

  “What are you suggesting? An affair?”

  “Do we have to label it?” He shrugged. “We like each other. We have great sex. I want to see you again. Isn’t it that simple?”

  She shook her head.

  “It sounds simple. I want to believe it’
s that simple. But I’ve never done anything like this before, Dylan. I’m a boring old monogamist from way back,” she said self-deprecatingly.

  “Is that a roundabout way of asking if I think we have a future?” he asked. He always made a point of laying his cards on the table up front—that way no one could complain that they didn’t know the score.

  “No. God, I’m supposed to be married. I just…I don’t know,” she said.

  He sat up beside her, mirroring her position.

  “I’m not looking for commitment,” he said baldly. “You should know that going in. I won’t ever lie to you.”

  She nodded. “So…it’s just sex?” she asked.

  “Mostly, yeah. It’s pretty amazing sex though, wouldn’t you agree?” he said lightly. He smoothed a hand down her bare, vulnerable back, and she shivered in reaction.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said ruefully.

  He slid his hand up to her nape and captured the back of her head. Pulling her close, he kissed her, a thorough, deep, intense kiss that sent both their pulses racing.

  “You can’t walk away from chemistry this good,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “No,” she whispered back.

  He felt a surge of triumph. He had her.

  As if making a decision had lifted a burden from her shoulders, she brightened visibly as they packed the tent and made their way back to the fork where they’d taken their first wrong turn. Two hours later they crested a rise and ran smack-bang into the rest of the team, obviously on a rescue mission.

  “You’re alive!” Claudia said, rushing forward to capture Sadie in a fierce embrace. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  Grace grimaced at Sadie’s mystified expression. “Hey, what did you expect? We make up drama for a living. By midnight, we had you in a coma, dying from snake bite, trapped by some hill-dwelling cult, or dead from a grizzly bear attack.”