Precarious(27)
“I didn’t want you to hear me,” I protest.
He wraps his arms around me. “You’re fuckin’ freezing. Come on, we need to get you dry.”
God, I’m cold, and my legs are aching so badly they actually hurt. Krypt takes me back to the cave and sits me down. He lifts the blanket and then hesitates before saying, “Clothes off.”
My eyes widen. “I . . . I . . . I . . . beg your pardon.”
He leans in closer. “I didn’t fuckin’ stutter. Clothes off.”
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. I mean, he must have, right? He can’t expect me to strip.
“Either you do it, Ash, or I will.”
“I’m not showing my naked body to you.”
“Nothin’ wrong with it, so I don’t see why.”
Oh he’s being funny. I glare up at him. “There is something wrong with it. My ass does not look good outside of these jeans.”
He grins. Asshole.
“I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Trust me, buddy,” I snort, shifting, “you don’t wanna see what I’m packing. I am not one of your skinny little Barbie dolls.”
“What makes you think I want skinny little Barbie dolls?”
I glare at him. “Don’t you?”
He kneels down in front of me, smirking. “You’ll never know. Now get your clothes off.”
“Turn around.”
He rolls his eyes, but he turns around. I quickly strip out of my clothes and reach for the blanket. He lets it go easily enough. I pull it around me, and sigh at its warmth. He turns and stares at me for a moment before lifting my clothes. He lays them out over the other blanket near the fire. “Only you would wet your clothes when we need to get movin’.”
“Well, I didn’t know there was a damned river there.”
He raises his brows. “You deaf, sweetheart?”
“Fuck you.”
He grins and comes over, sitting down beside me. “You’re freezing.”
“No shit.”
He reaches over, taking my shoulders and pulling me closer to him.
“Ah, what are you doing?”
“I’m warming you up,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“No thank you.”
He chuckles. “Wasn’t askin’ you, babe.”
“You’re trying to cop a feel, and it’s not going to happen.”
He pulls me so close I’m tucked into his side, his big arm slung around my shoulder. I can smell the leather of his jacket crossed with the scent of him . . . just man. All man. It’s musky and a little dirty, and my body reacts to it. My skin prickles and I have to press my legs together as I feel my sex becoming damp.
“Fuck,” he growls. “I can fuckin’ smell you.”
“What?” I gasp, horrified.
“You . . . you smell like fuckin’ sex. It’s like your body just flipped a damned switch and let me know what you’re too scared to tell me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I breathe.
He makes a grumbling sound and scoots back, shifting so I’m between his legs. He wraps his big arms around me, bringing my back to his chest. I stiffen. Oh boy, this is some situation we’re in right now. I close my eyes, clenching them tightly. I’m trying very hard to think about anything else right now.
“Stop it,” he growls.
“Stop what?” I whisper. “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re makin’ me fuckin’ hard with that smell.”
Jesus.
Do I smell? Really?
I think it’s bath time for me.
He parts the blanket just slightly, slipping his hand beneath.
“Whoa, hand out,” I yell, only it comes out like a shaky, half-assed plea.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want my fuckin’ hand in there. I’m not goin’ to fuck you, babe.”
“That depends on what you consider fucking,” I whimper as his fingers find my belly.
“I consider it fucking,” he murmurs, his breath against my ear, “when my cock is deep inside you, and you’re screamin’ my name.”
“Okay then,” I breathe. “Well, I consider anything entering my body, fucking.”
I can nearly feel him grinning against my ear. “I don’t have to put anything in your body to warm you up, Wildcard.”
“H-h-h-how is this warming me up?”
His fingers slide up and down my belly, stroking the soft skin there, causing little shivers to break out across my skin. His hand inches higher, finding the swell of my breasts. He gently caresses the skin there, before sliding up and cupping my breast. I gasp and wiggle, but he uses his other hand to press firmly against my belly so I can’t move.