Stirred Up

by Isabel Morin

  Maybe her moan had sounded a little too…authentic?

  “Sorry. That was just really good,” she muttered.

  He said something under his breath that sounded like “keep it together” but she wasn’t entirely sure.

  He cleared his throat. “You stopping at one?” he asked, as if in challenge, his eyebrow raised.

  “Hell no, I’m not stopping at one,” she said, pulling out another marshmallow to begin all over again. Only this time she’d keep her delight a little lower key.

  After her third s’more she fully understood the saying about too much of a good thing and decided she’d had enough. Jason had stopped at two and was probably better off for it, though he’d cracked open a beer. He handed one to her and they pulled the canvas chairs closer to the fire.

  “We have now arrived at the scary stories portion of the evening,” he said, his voice pitched low. Then without warning he gave a horrible, creepy laugh that had her jumping out of her chair. He almost fell to the ground laughing.

  He told her every scary story he could remember, plus some she was fairly certain he’d made up. It was late before he wound down and they sat in front of the dying fire. None of the campsites around them were occupied, and it felt as if they were all alone in the world.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking into the fire instead of at him.

  “For what?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “For all of this. It’s perfect.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She shivered then, the chill of the desert at night finally penetrating the fire’s heat.

  “We probably ought to call it a day,” Jason said, though he sounded reluctant. “We’ll have time for another good climb in the morning if we don’t sleep too late.”

  “Good idea,” she said, though sleeping late was the least of her worries. Falling asleep in the first place was more likely to be the problem.

  They took turns doing their business at the rustic toilets and then met one last time in front of the tents. He handed her a flashlight.

  “Give a call if you need anything,” he said. “I’m just a few feet away.”

  “Thanks, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said, trying to appear unconcerned.

  “Okay. Sweet dreams.”

  Her throat squeezed at those quiet words spoken in the flickering light.

  “You, too,” she said, her heart twisting over something she couldn’t define.

  Bending low, she crawled into her tent and zipped it closed, leaving the door open just enough to see him gaze into the fire a few seconds longer before dowsing it with dirt.

  She lay there awhile thinking about Jason, but she must have eventually fallen asleep because she woke up more terrified than she’d ever been. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her breath came fast and light, like she’d had a nightmare, but she couldn’t remember dreaming anything scary. Then something howled right outside her tent and the hair on her arms stood on end.

  After a few more howls, some farther away than others, she had sense enough to realize that there wasn’t anything right outside the tent. But one of the beasts making all that noise was close. Maybe a matter of feet away, maybe yards, but surely within striking distance. She wracked her brain, trying to remember if she’d ever heard of people being dragged from their tents by wolves or hyenas or whatever it was out there. Surely Jason would have warned her if there was danger? He’d sworn she wouldn’t die on this trip.

  No, wait. He’d only promised she wouldn’t fall to her death. He’d never promised she wouldn’t be torn apart by wild animals.

  Fumbling with the zipper to the door, she crawled out of her tent and scurried over to Jason’s, feeling the whole time like she was in the eye of some predator.

  “Jason. Jason, open up,” she whispered, afraid that if she were too loud, whatever beast was making that noise would come for her.

  “Cheryl?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He unzipped the tent and poked his head out. “What’s wrong?”

  More howls.

  Without waiting for an invitation, she pushed her way in, falling on top of him in her rush to get inside. He caught her by the waist just as her hands made contact with the hard muscles and warm skin of his chest.

  Chapter Nine

  She was basically sitting in his lap, though his lower body was in the sleeping bag, and she felt the surge of his desire immediately, followed quickly by his sharp intake of breath.

  She froze, barely breathing as she looked at him in the moonlight filtering through the circle of netting at the peak of the tent. There was so little between them and the wilderness outside, just a whisper of protection, and not much more than that between the two of them.

  For a few brief moments there was only the breeze against the tent, and then Jason was crushing her to his chest as his mouth took hers.

  There was no working up to this kiss. From the first moment it was frantic and uncivilized, one big hand fisted in her hair while the other held her hip tightly to him, his mouth demanding she open for him as his tongue plunged into her, deep and carnal. She was straddling him, the sleeping bag bunching between them until she was desperate to feel him without any interference.

  It was awkward and cramped and delicious, as if they’d broken free of the roles and expectations, the restraints and disappointments of real life and were in some space and time where nothing mattered but their bodies pressed together.

  Another howl pierced the air, only this time it seemed more like the expression of her own need.

  With a growl of frustration Jason turned them until he was above her, somehow kicking the sleeping bag away until all that separated them was his boxer briefs and her camisole and shorts. All the heat and strength of those disciplined muscles, everything she’d been denying herself now pressed her into the ground.

  Instantly her legs parted, making room for him, and his hips settled over hers as once again his mouth took hers, his hands slipping beneath her back to press her more fully against him. She was desperate to feel him, to feel everything she’d been avoiding for the past two months. Her hands raked his back and cupped his ass, pulling him more snugly against her as she widened her thighs.

  Jason’s breath was harsh in her ear, the ragged sound of his slipping control driving her beyond the point of all thought. One big hand found her breast as his mouth slid to her throat, devouring her as he worked his way lower. Movements increasingly frantic, he pulled the fabric of her camisole aside and took the taut peak into his mouth, his groan of pleasure and hunger searing through her.

  She bucked against him, the pleasure nearly unbearable, and he responded with a slow grind of his hips that had her whimpering, the sound joining with another distant howl.

  Pulling him back up to her she took his mouth, making demands of her own, drawing his tongue into her, needing him to fill her.

  He groaned, his voice dark with need, urging her on. “Show me what you want.”

  The moonlight lit half his face, casting the other in shadow. The calm, patient man she knew was gone, replaced by this dark lover whose body consumed all the space around them.

  Her hands went to his underwear, tugging the waistband until the hard length of him sprang free. With a low growl he sat back on his heels and without delicacy dragged her shorts and underwear down her legs in one rough motion.

  “Yes,” she moaned, hips rising to accommodate him.

  Then his mouth was back on her breast, sucking, rolling the peak with his tongue, and her whole body writhed in answer. He leaned on one forearm while his other hand journeyed over her belly, pausing a few moments as if to enjoy the way she moaned for him.

  “Jason, please,” she gasped, so beyond herself, she thought she might scream if he didn’t touch her in the next two seconds.

  His laugh was dark and shaky, as if he were amazed himself. “I wouldn’t stop for anything,” he murmured, and then his finger slipped into her wet heat and found her, both
of them groaning together.

  “Christ, you’re so wet,” he gasped, two fingers sliding into her as his thumb stroked her throbbing clit. “I always knew you’d feel this good,” he crooned, his fingers driving her higher and higher.

  She was strung out and mindless, her body arcing like a bow pulled back to let fly. But she didn’t want to go alone. She needed him inside her, needed him to fill her up and drive into her with all that animal force.

  “You have no idea how much I want to be inside you. But I didn’t bring anything,” he said, his voice tight above her. Even as he said it his mouth was on her throat and he ground his hips into hers, as if needing to get closer.

  It took her body a minute to catch up to her brain, but once it did she froze. In an unwelcome rush the argument they’d had about her stripping came back to her, and she stopped straining against him. They didn’t have condoms, and the reason neither one of them had brought anything was because she shouldn’t be having sex with him.

  Every cell of her body was primed for him, desperate to continue what they’d been doing. But her instinct for self-preservation was stronger.

  She pressed both hands to his chest. “Stop. I can’t do this.”

  Jason froze above her, panting, his whole body rigid, as if it took incredible will not to move. She couldn’t see his eyes, could only hear his breath rasping above her, and for a moment she felt like whatever had been howling outside had found its way in and now hovered above her.

  He was silent so long, she began to wonder if she should say something. Was he so angry he couldn’t manage to speak to her? Finally he stood up and yanked his boxers back into place.

  “Shit.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t–”

  “Please don’t apologize. Just give me a second.”

  Neither of them spoke, and the tent filled with the sounds of their breathing.

  “On second thought, I’ll be right back.”

  Bare-chested, wearing only his boxers, he climbed out the door. Cheryl watched without speaking as he grabbed the sneakers sitting outside the tent, pulled them on and strode away. After a few long strides he broke into a run and disappeared into the shadows of the cliffs.

  ***

  Jason ran for fifteen minutes, not caring whether he twisted an ankle on the uneven ground. Hell, let him break it. It would hurt less than his hard-on and it might be a nice distraction.

  There was no telling how long he ran, but eventually he slowed to a walk, the desperate haze of his desire fading, replaced by doubt and worry. It was useless hating himself for his lack of self-control, not when he’d been woken up in the middle of the night by Cheryl’s practically naked body falling into his arms. He wasn’t a saint, and he’d been too out of it to think straight.

  What killed him was knowing she’d stopped him because she still hadn’t forgiven him. It was there in the sound of her voice, in the way she made him stop even though she was as excited as he was. They didn’t have a condom, but that didn’t mean everything had to scream to a halt. He’d have bet anything that if this had happened before their argument she’d have gone for it, or at least handled it differently.

  She still didn’t want to be anything more than friends, and he was going to lose even that if she knew he wanted more. Which meant he had to convince her that none of this meant anything.

  There was a light coming from Cheryl’s tent, but as soon as he got within calling distance it went out. His stomach clenched at her obvious desire to avoid talking to him tonight, but he couldn’t let this wait until morning.

  Kneeling down in front of the tent door he took a deep breath. “Cheryl?”

  She didn’t reply, and he could almost hear her holding her breath.

  “I know you’re awake,” he said, patiently. “I saw your light a minute ago.”

  The zipper moved and the tent door opened to reveal Cheryl, dressed once again in her camisole and shorts. She was biting her lip, her eyes uncertain.

  “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. You took me by surprise is all. I was dead asleep and–”

  “I know,” she groaned. “It was totally my fault. Please let’s just forget it.”

  She wasn’t mad at him, then. He let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. “So we’ll just chalk this up to a weird almost full moon thing and act like none of this happened in the morning?”

  “That would be great,” she said, her sheepish, hopeful smile tugging at something in the vicinity of his heart.

  Another howl sounded somewhere off in the distance, but she didn’t blink an eye.

  “Will you be all right by yourself?” he asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “It’s much safer in here than I realized,” she joked. “But what is that?”

  “Coyotes, and they don’t bother people, so there’s no danger.” He sat there for another few seconds, reluctant to leave her. “Okay, well, let me know if you need anything,” he said, standing up.

  “Goodnight, Jason,” she called after him.

  He crawled back into his tent, suddenly realizing he was still wearing only his boxers and a pair of sneakers. Now he was cold as well as embarrassed that he’d sat there talking to her without putting any clothes on.

  He lay down and tried to clear his mind, but all he could think about was how she’d felt in his arms, under him, wet and moaning and perfect. Better than anything he’d imagined, and his imagination had been pretty optimistic when it came to Cheryl.

  He tossed and turned until his sleeping bag was a twisted mess, and then fell suddenly to sleep in the middle of odd, jumbled thoughts about escaping from his sleeping bag to check on Cheryl, who was trapped in her sleeping bag while the howling coyotes stalked around her tent.

  He woke up sometime after sunrise and lay there, blinking up at the blue sky. He could tell it was way later than he usually slept while camping, but since he didn’t hear anyone else moving around, it looked like he’d managed to wake up before Cheryl.

  Climbing out of the tent, he breathed in the incomparable scent of the start of a new day, the chill in the air washing over him like a dip in a fast-running river. Sticking his head back into the tent he pulled out his jeans and flannel shirt and dressed as the birds sang around him. Time to get to work. When Cheryl woke up, there’d be a fire to keep her warm and some fresh-brewed coffee waiting for her.

  The fire was just beginning to catch when the sound of a tent door unzipping sent his heart into his throat.

  Christ, she was gorgeous, even pale and tired and rumpled with sleep. She’d pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt, and her hair was in two messy braids. She looked, basically, like every guy’s fantasy of the girl you wanted to take camping.

  “Hey,” he said. A brilliant opener. “Coffee’s almost ready.”

  “Good. I’ll need all of it,” she said, offering a shy smile.

  “I hope the howling didn’t keep you up long.”

  “Not too long,” she said, a corner of her mouth tilting up in a self-mocking smile. “Eventually I was so tired, I decided I didn’t care if they came and got me while I slept.” She reached up, stretching towards the sky with a groan. “I feel good now though. Nice and rested.”

  “Are you one of those people who needs to be awake for a while before you eat?”

  “I just need a few minutes and some coffee. All this fresh air has me kind of hungry.”

  Jason grabbed a tin camping cup and poured her coffee out of the French press he’d brought. It was a bit fancy for camping but it made great coffee fast.

  Cheryl took the cup in both hands, breathing deeply before closing her eyes and drinking. “Now that,” she said, “is a good cup of coffee.”

  She was smiling at him, like he was everything she needed in the world. Too bad she only looked at him like that over his coffee-making.

  “You up for some pancakes?” he asked.

  “Oh my God
, yes. I can’t remember the last time someone made breakfast for me.”

  She said it so casually, like she didn’t realize how revealing it was. But it said everything to him, and all he wanted in that moment was to prove himself to her so he could go on making her pancakes and coffee and anything else that would make her eyes light up.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

  “No, I’m good. You just relax.”

  Heading over to the picnic table he laid out the fixings for breakfast. Cheryl wandered around the campsite with her coffee cup as Jason mixed up the batter and the world came to life around them, the sun making its way above the red cliffs, creating more light and shadow. Then it rose another inch and touched off a thousand brilliant sparks in her hair.

  Suddenly he felt like he was hanging off the side of a cliff, just a thin rope keeping him from falling to the rocks below. Lightheaded, hyperaware and yet filled with a sense of unreality.

  “Wow, this is incredible,” she said, glancing from the cliffs to him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “It really is.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked. “You have a weird look on your face.”

  “I just need some coffee, that’s all,” he said, taking a nice big gulp even though he knew it would be too hot.

  He could feel her eyes on him as he tested the griddle, finally deciding it was hot enough to start cooking. Cheryl grabbed her camera and proceeded to document their surroundings, taking pictures of their tents, the jeep, the sun coming over the mountains.

  He made a face when she pointed it at him.

  “As you were,” she directed. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

  He still felt silly, but he complied. He wanted her to have pictures of him. She wouldn’t be taking photos of him if he didn’t mean something to her. Would she?

  “Breakfast is served,” he announced a little while later, setting the blueberry pancakes, sausage and maple syrup on the camp table between their two chairs.

  Cheryl sat down and took a bite, her eyes going round with appreciation.