Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,77
That was after we remembered to heat the water, of course. Trial by error and all that. Shrinkage doesn’t bode well for retaining a level of upstanding arousal to compete with her ceaseless appetite. I didn’t recommend a repeat until she convinced me by using parts of her body that beat the chill. There’s no denying that I’m a weak man when it comes to her.
“I’ll have to find more creative ways to repay you,” I growl against her lips.
She shivers in my hold. “I’m not sure that’s necessary. You’ve already done plenty.”
“Just the beginning, Lee.” There’s no truer statement.
What we have is developing into something truly special. Not that I would be a decent judge on the matter. Never being part of a loving couple, I have very little to go off. The way she’s staring at me now, and the resulting pounding in my chest, is all I need to know.
Blakely’s smile could break apart a hurricane. “That’s really good. I’ve grown very fond of having you around.”
I trace the shell of her ear with my nose. “My attachment to you is probably bordering on obsession. Does that freak you out?”
“Not at all. I’m thrilled to be the object of your fascination.” Her expression sobers, a fog stealing the light from me. “Do you think we should move to a different spot after this?”
“Maybe?” I exhale a plume of steam. “I’ve been avoiding my negative nature, but this site isn’t doing us any favors. Other than the fish supply and excellent sightseeing, of course.”
She nudges me. “And our love-nest.”
A growl fit for a lion rumbles in my chest. “There’s no forgetting that.”
“Will we find another cavern?”
I blindly gesture at the mountains cocooning us. “Without a doubt.”
“Okay, we should go elsewhere then.”
“You’re the boss, Lee.”
“That’s not what you moaned last night,” she reminds with a nip at my bottom lip.
Rocking into her is a reflex I’ve quit bothering to rein in. The semi I’m sporting gives her a growing hint at what she’s doing to me. “Unless you want to end up over my shoulder with a backward view of this field, I’d watch what comes out of that sinful mouth next.”
Blakely walks her fingers down my torso. “Promises, promises.”
I snag her wrist, halting the teasing descend. “Let’s get this done so we can leave.”
“Let’s not be too hasty. There’s always a chance, right?”
A slow nod with a weak smirk is all the response she gets from me. Faith is a fickle bitch. That’s why I’d given up my sense of justice, along with any semblance of trust in things going my way. Until Blakely slid in beside me. She makes it impossible not to believe that better days are just beyond the horizon. But even that isn’t enough out here.
My restored sense of hope has been waning further with each passing hour we remain suspended in wait. I’m not the only one feeling the burden of being held captive. Shadows never fail to steal the sparkle in Blakely’s baby blues when we abandon our efforts as evening falls. Another shot missing the target.
Her thick sigh of defeat hooks into me, dragging my spirits lower. I want to be found—there’s no question about my motivations. But more than that, I want Blakely to get her life back. She has so much waiting on her. The clients she helps on a daily basis are probably losing their minds. Those vital services are missing a key component. They can thank Stefano for her extended absence.
I push some stray hair off her forehead. The future unravels in my mind like a midnight vision most would cower in the shadows from. Blakely’s outlook is far from grim. What’s waiting for me at home? My parole officer, with a hefty punishment for skipping town. Whether by choice or the satisfaction of a rogue ex-con being caught, he’ll be ready to have me return into the fold. I’m sure the authorities will join in, waiting with a stack of violations that require endless amounts of community service. Or jail time. I shudder at that daunting possibility. That’s a decrepit bridge I’ll need to be dragged across if things come to that.
All I have is the sickly putrid stench of revenge to reclaim. Getting my innocence granted by any means necessary will once again be the fuel that drives me. Clearing my name, and criminal record, will be gratifying. That relief will pale in comparison to being welcomed home by loved ones. There’s no one to