Surviving Love - K.F. Breene Page 0,63

me doesn’t make you Rambo all of a sudden.”

“You’re talking to someone who served in as a Green Beret. Do you really want to push this argument?”

Sara grunted, hand still holding his. He turned his face to show her his victory smile and got a scrunched nose for his efforts.

Mike three—Sara zero. Just like old times.

They passed into the shade of a cluster of trees, the coolness making them both sigh. A few more steps and they beheld the best sight a dehydrated, thirsty wanderer could: a flowing stream.

“Can we drink it now?” Sara asked in desperation, taking a step toward the small ravine.

Mike shook his head as he scanned the area, mind whirling. “The water looks clear, but we’re at least halfway down the mountain. There’s no telling what’s been leaked into the water further up. There’s animal waste to think about, bacteria. No, we need to boil it.” He turned to her. “Let’s find some shelter for the night, get a fire going, and then we’ll be ready for the water. We’ll use whatever daylight we have left to search for some food.”

“No more walking today?” she asked with a sagging body.

He leaned toward her, her feminine aroma competing with sweat and sun-warmed skin. He had no idea it would be such a pleasant elixir.

His hand found the rise of her butt as his face dipped in close, wanting to sample. Ignoring the painful pit of his stomach and the monster headache—all he felt was his pounding erection. He moved closer, inches from her now, his hand falling to her firm butt.

“Hello? I’m dying of thirst,” she reminded him, a crease working into her brow. Heat had seeped into her gaze, though. Hot and eager. Her body leaning in, sexually welcoming his touch. But there was still a glimmer of fear. Of uncertainty.

She wasn’t ready. But she was closer. The waiting continued. For now.

He wiped his mind clean and nodded, back to business. “Let’s get some shelter.”

Chapter 15

Sara waited while Mike scouted the area, her mind foggy and her stomach aching. She was nauseated from the intense hunger, not to mention the confusion settling over her brain from fatigue. This was all nothing to her dry, cracked lips and desperate yearning for one—just one—drop of water. She couldn’t remember ever being so thirsty in all her life.

Her feet stumbled as she followed Mike down the ravine, her eyes stuck on the flowing water greedily.

“It’s actually a lot deeper than I thought. Hmm.” Mike’s beautiful eyes scanned the bank they were approaching, settling on a fallen log crossing the stream ten paces to the right. He looked back in the direction they’d come.

“Must be our lucky day.” He scanned her shoes before looking back at the log.

As he led her by the hand to his intended crossing, she asked, “Why don’t we just stay on this side? Hang out near a tree or something.”

“I’m hoping the other side has something more to offer in the way of food sources. It can’t be any worse, so the risk is worth it.”

Sara waited as he gracefully stepped up onto the log, his substantial muscles working in perfect harmony. He bounced a couple times with each step, making sure the wood would hold. It didn’t take him long to effortlessly cross, stepping onto the far bank with an expectant expression.

“It’ll hold. Just keep your balance and come on over.”

“Oh sure, no problem.” Sara’s brow furrowed in dazed concentration as she stepped up onto the log. It wobbled, throwing her balance to the right. She stepped back onto the bank, her arms windmilling.

“You can do it, baby,” Mike said earnestly.

“Don’t call me baby—it’s weird,” she said as a shock of butterflies assaulted her stomach. It was also extremely distracting.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, a grin tweaking his lips.

Arms out to the sides, she stepped up again, prepared for the wobble this time. Her body quivered as she kept her balance and stepped out further. The fast-moving stream gurgled below her, rushing under the log in a clear, beautiful gush. Just looking at all that water—that delicious, clear water…

Her tongue seemed to thicken with her pressing thirst, her throat tightening up and all her focus homed in on that water. She was so thirsty. So unbelievably thirsty.

She stepped on the edge of the log—more of a branch, really. No more than the size of her thigh.

“Good job, almost there,” Mike said, reaching out to her.

The warmth in his voice, and the timbre, had her eyes