Rescued by Love(39)

Running out of the water was worse than being in it. Shivering, she dried off with the washcloth, wishing she’d packed a bigger towel, and tugged on her shirt and sweatshirt. She realized she’d forgotten her bra and made a command decision to forgo bras for the rest of the trip. That seemed like prize enough for making it through an achy body and frigid bath. Her feet were muddy, which presented another problem. She couldn’t put on her underwear without getting it muddy. Bare-assed, she carried her boots and towel to the water’s edge. She spied a log and headed for it, telling herself she could figure this out like she did everything else.

She set the towel and her boots on the log, which was only about six inches from the water’s edge, and stepped into the water to wash off her feet. See? Easy. After rinsing them off she stepped over the muddy shore and onto the log. She wobbled, but managed to sit on it while she wiped off her feet. She swatted at something crawling up her leg, then her hip, then—holy shit—there were ants everywhere—crawling along her butt, her thighs, her lower back. She ran into the water, holding her shirt up to her neck and swatting at the offending bugs, shrieking at the top of her lungs as she tried to scrub them off.

By the time she got back to her campsite, hair drenched, sweatshirt not much drier, she was frustrated and achy and angry at herself for not thinking ahead enough to have her morning routine figured out before plunging into it. That would never happen again.

She changed into dry clothes, brushed her hair and tied it back in a ponytail to avoid any other creatures latching on to her, tied a rope from one tree to another and hung her wet clothes on it, and started a small fire to boil water for coffee.

Lots of coffee.

She nibbled on an energy bar and skimmed through the journal pages she’d written in last night. Though she’d started out writing about her hike up the mountain, she’d ended up writing pages and pages about her feelings for Jake. Once she began, her emotions had flowed like a river. Her feelings were real and frightening. And unfair to Jake. She had to learn to handle them like she handled everything else in her life. Head-on.

Setting the journal aside, she took a selfie for Jake, adding the caption Wilderness beauty at its best. Day two has arrived, and I’m ready!

She stared at the words she’d typed. They were not at all what she felt. It took all of her courage to delete what she’d written and give voice to the truth, but once she started, it got easier with each word. I’m sorry I chickened out of our conversation and hung up. I’m sure you want to come up here and drag me by my hair into a cave and make me listen, but I have to learn to listen to myself before I can listen to anyone else. I miss you. Truly I do. Thanks for being patient with me. She sent it off and opened the journal again. Her phone vibrated seconds later with a text from Jake, and she couldn’t open it fast enough.

If you find the secret to making my sexy girl listen, please share it with me.

She smiled, relief consuming her. Feeling luckier than she ever had, she typed a response that she knew would make him smile, too. Where’s the fun in that? She added hearts and a smiley emoticon, and then typed, Turning phone off again to conserve battery. NOT hanging up on you. xox.

Feeling more at ease, despite her rough start to the morning, she made coffee, reveling in the way Jake seemed to understand her. As the hot liquid warmed her from the inside out, she realized he sounded as though he knew her better than she knew herself. It was time for her to get to know Addison Dahl.

She pressed pen to paper, more of her heart pouring out.

I never imagined that wanting my independence so badly would make me afraid to let any piece of it go. Thinking of her grandmother, she wrote, You taught me to own my pride, my lust, my anger, and I wear those things like badges of honor. And now I’m here alone, and I can’t stop wishing Jake was here with me. I’m greedy for him. For his time, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands on my skin. Even for our banter, because that’s what makes us who we are. I can’t pretend those feelings that I’ve never had before haven’t consumed me since our very first kiss. But giving in terrifies me, because I look back at you and Mom and I know I can’t survive the kind of relationships you had, and I’m afraid of backsliding. Of letting him in and then becoming the very person I fear.

She closed the journal and drew in a deep breath, wondering if she was destined to spend her life fighting to retain the independence she’d worked so hard to claim—or fighting against it.



JAKE STEPPED FROM the shower to answer his vibrating phone after a late run Tuesday evening. He wrapped a towel around his hips as he read Addy’s text, and headed in to the bedroom. How’s my Neanderthal?

He stood at the end of his bed and texted, Just got out of the shower after a long run. Miss you. You okay?

She responded immediately. I was until you put THAT image into my head.

Wish you’d been in it with me. He ran a hand through his hair and took a selfie, capturing the cocky grin she teased him about straight down to the towel around his hips and sent it off with the text Does my girl want to play?

He sank down to the bed and her answer arrived the second he hit the mattress. He drank in the selfie she’d sent, of her body from the neck down. She was lying on a blanket wearing a blue sweatshirt, unzipped to expose the smooth skin between her breasts. No bra. Nice. Her hand rested on her thigh, her finger tucked just beneath the fringe of her cutoffs.

“Oh yeah, baby, you want to play.” He leaned back against the pillow, relieved that she was safe, and typed another text. Slide those fingers into your panties and send me another pic.

He was hard just thinking about her touching herself. He took off his tented towel and fisted his shaft, giving it a long, tight stroke. His phone vibrated and he opened the text one-handed, admiring the image of her, shorts unzipped, her hand pushed down between her legs. His pulse spiked, and he stroked himself again as the next image rolled in of Addy with her shorts off and her fingers resting on her sex.

“Fuck, sexy girl. You’re killing me,” he said as he texted the same words. Then he took a picture of his hand wrapped around his cock and sent it. You wanna play? I’m all in, baby. He grabbed a bottle of lotion from the bedside table, poured some in his left hand, needing his right to text, set the phone on his abs where he could see the picture of his dirty girl, and wrapped his hand around his shaft again. His phone vibrated with a picture of Addy’s sweatshirt unzipped, her beautiful breasts on display and one nipple between her finger and thumb.

“Fuck,” he ground out, stroking himself harder. He put his phone on speech-to-text and said, “Fuck, Addy. Call me.” He took another picture of his slick, swollen cock, with a glistening bead at the tip, and sent it off.

His phone vibrated with another picture of Addy’s naked body from neck to knees, her back arched, knees bent, one hand flat above her mound, her slick fingers on her clit. Another picture popped up of her from the waist down, two fingers buried inside her. He imagined his hand as hers as he stroked himself to the image of her getting off to thoughts of him. It’d been too many days since he’d kissed her, touched her—made love to her. Another picture of her popped up, the same as before, from the waist down, but her back was bowed off the blanket, all her muscles straining. Fuck, he could taste her come on his tongue, feel her body quivering against him. One more look was all it took. Warm, white jets streaked over his stomach as he grunted out her name, images of her flying through his mind—her smile, her hips, those glorious breasts. Squeezing out the last of his release, he collapsed, breathless, against the pillow.

He wiped his hand on the towel, took a picture of the evidence of the power she held over him, and texted, This better not end up on your fucking Tumblr page.

Damn it. She’d just blown his mind, and now he was thinking about that damn Tumblr page. She always blew his freaking mind, regardless of whether she was running scared or playing sexy, naughty games. He’d already spent too many days without her. How would he last for the remainder of her trip?

His phone vibrated again with a picture of Addy’s sweet face. The moonlight glowed behind her, giving her an angelic appearance. Her eyelids were at half-mast, and the rosy flush burning her cheeks took his breath away. The unmistakable look of a girl falling hard for a guy glimmered in her eyes. A text bubble appeared below her image. Another first with my boyfriend. Who needs Tumblr when I have the perfect cock to rock?

Could she have said anything more satisfying? He needed her in his arms like a fish needed water. He walked into the bathroom to wash up, then put on a pair of briefs and called her. She answered on the first ring. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi,” she said in a sleepy, seductive voice that made him want to climb through the phone and hold her.

“That was only the hottest surprise ever.” He tugged on a T-shirt and went out to the terrace. “How’s my girl?”

“Better now,” she said breathily.

Stretching out on the outdoor bed and wishing she was snuggled up against him, he said, “Yeah, me too, but I miss you even more now. What’d you do today?”

“Wished I had a hot tub to soak in.”