With a spark, the lovely little flame whooshed brighter and higher, leaping to engage the paper, and then the bark. As she watched, the small sticks of kindling began to smoke, then glow as the flame caught.
She began laughing, so beside herself with delight she thought she might cry, too. She turned to see Cam striding toward her, a wide grin on his face. With a whoop of joy, she jumped up and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. He caught her, lifting her off the ground and giving her a little whirl.
“It worked!” she half shrieked, clutching those broad shoulders and wrapping her legs around his hips for support.
He didn’t say anything. His hands gripped her butt, pulled her tightly against him. A rock hard erection pushed urgently into the softness and heat between her legs. Startled, she looked up, her laughter dying in mid-note. She saw his vivid gray eyes, glittering with heat and hunger, and then he kissed her.
22
HIS LIPS WERE COLD, BUT THERE WAS HEAT IN THE KISS, a compelling hunger and expertise that drew an immediate response from her. The usual alarm sounded deep in her brain, but somehow it was less urgent, and for the first time in a long, long time, maybe forever, she ignored it. Instead she coiled her arms around his neck and kissed him back, parting her lips at the insistence of his and allowing the smaller penetration of his tongue to entice her to play.
A confusing mixture of guilt and pleasure filled her. She hadn’t meant to precipitate this, hadn’t meant to go down this road, yet now that she was on it she wanted to stay.
She should take her legs from around his hips, she knew, and withdraw to a less blatantly sexual footing, but she didn’t. Feeling the strength of his response was exciting, and the beckoning pleasure of what awaited her, if she just relaxed and let go, was a siren song of temptation. Even beyond that, and underlying it, was the simple pleasure of being held, the very human need for physical contact. She had been starved for so very long and suddenly she couldn’t deny herself any longer.
She had slept in his arms, and he in hers, for two nights now, and though their physical closeness had been a necessity to share their body heat and stay alive, knowing that didn’t lessen the elemental trust and sense of connection formed during those long, dark hours. She’d never had that before, never wanted it. The best way to safeguard her emotions was to keep people at a distance, to rely only on herself; she’d learned that in lessons both early and hard.
Yet here he was, close and strong and warm, and she didn’t want to let him go.
He was the one who broke off the kiss, lifting his mouth and looking down at her with a heavy-lidded gaze. The bruises under his eyes and the scrapes on his face should have diminished the potency of that look, but somehow didn’t. Hot intent burned there, promised more. His hands still gripped her bottom, still moved her against his swollen penis in a slow rhythm that made her heart pound and her breath come in gasps. Then the corners of his mouth kicked up in a rueful smile. “I hate to break this up,” he drawled, “but I’m about to fall down.”
She stared blankly at him for a second, then realization dawned. “Oh, damn it! I forgot! I’m sorry—” As she spoke she hastily unwrapped her legs from his waist and slid to the ground, her face turning hot from sheer mortification. How could she have forgotten how weakened he was? Just yesterday he’d barely been able to move around under his own steam!
He staggered a little and she quickly jammed her shoulder under his arm, grasping him around the waist to steady him. “I can’t believe I forgot,” she mumbled as she helped him toward the fire.
“Personally, I’m glad you did. I enjoyed the hell out of it, but what little blood’s left in me went south and I got light-headed for a minute.” He winked at her as she helped him sit down in front of the fire. The only thing to sit on was the trash bag of clothes they used to close the entrance to the shelter, but they were using her clothes for everything else, so why not a seat?
“God, that feels good,” he groaned, holding his hands out to the flame, and with a start Bailey looked around.
She’d forgotten about the fire, too. How could she? Excitement over the fire was what had sent her running to him in the first place. But as soon as he’d kissed her, zap, everything else in her mind had vaporized. What if the flame had started flickering out, what if she’d needed to adjust the position of the suitcases to block the wind? This fire was precious; she should have been watching it, tending it, not jumping into Cam Justice’s arms and riding him like a rodeo bronc.
“I am such a numskull!” she muttered, watching the smoke spiral upward before being dissipated by the wind. The greener limbs had begun to sullenly burn and the smoke was heavy, far heavier than it would have been with a really good campfire, but miraculous for all that. “I should have been watching the fire.”
“But we wouldn’t have had as much fun,” he pointed out. “Stop beating yourself up. You aren’t responsible for the world.”
“Maybe not, but if this fire had gone out, neither of us would have been a happy camper.” Standing as close as she dared, she cautiously held her hands out. She could feel the heat of the fire on her face and it felt so good she almost moaned. People took things for granted, like heat, and food, and water. She didn’t think she would ever again travel without a pack of waterproof matches in her luggage, as well as a few other necessities she could think of, like a satellite phone. And long, insulated underwear. And a few dozen packages of field rations.
“We’d have lived. We’ve lived without one for two days. This just makes us a little more comfortable.”