“I don’t think so. I don’t know much about Bison. Maybe we should head back. Leave them to their space.”
“Yeah. Good idea.”
He doesn’t move. His hand squeezes my waist. My heart pounds, and my breath comes faster. We should have talked about last night. We should have figured out what this thing is. Jude’s other hand sweeps my hair away from my neck. My eyes shut as his head dips and his lips press against the side of my throat.
At the sound of my whimper, his hand on my waist tightens, then moves around to my stomach. The tip of his pinkie finger toys with the waistband of my jeans. I keep my eyes on the bison as he tastes my skin, his lips skimming up to my ear. He nips at the lobe, and more of his fingers dip beneath my pants. He doesn’t go any lower, spreading his fingers across my abdomen.
My hands are shaking and everything inside of me tightens up, not in fear or worry. The desire is so overwhelming I can barely stop myself from falling to my knees.
“Fuck, Krista,” he groans into my neck.
I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t resist this pull. I draw away from him and turn around. His eyes are hooded with lust as he stares at me. He still has the end of my ponytail in his hand, weaving it around his fingers. He’s watching, waiting.
I step forward and put my hand around the back of his neck, reaching up. Our lips slam together. Jude groans, cups the back of my head and the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. My back arches as my mouth opens for him.
This is no tender meeting of our mouths, this is raw, desperate, his tongue thrusts against mine as his hips grind forward. I’m lost. All awareness of my surroundings disappear. All I feel is him.
All I smell and taste and desire is Jude Smallwood.
My brain barely comprehends the sound of voices. I’m practically climbing up Jude’s body when he leans back and curses. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, but slowly, I realize his annoyance isn’t at me, but the group of people who’ve appeared over the ridge.
“The fucking timing,” he groans.
I’m still half lost in his eyes, in the feel of his arms still holding me up.
“Excuse us folks. Do you mind taking our picture?”
“Are they fucking kidding?” Jude groans.
I rub my lips together and look over his shoulder. Yeah, assholes. Who approaches a couple doing what we’re doing and interrupts them?
I’ve never wanted to kill a group of hikers quite like I do now.
Given who I’m with, he can’t very well go help them out with the photograph.
“Grab the bag.” I give his arm a squeeze and walk around Jude, in a way shielding him.
And not from being recognized. The thick length of him was pressed right up against me while we kissed. My damn panties are soaked. I was on the verge of stripping those pants right off him when this group of jerks interrupted.
Walking closer to the group, I put one arm up to shield my eyes from the sun. The guy who asked is smiling at me.
“I’m sorry, but no. We can’t take your picture. But have a nice day.”
I whirl around and grab Jude’s arm, seeing the full-on shock on his face. The people behind are all stunned. Jude breaks into a grin as I tow him away from the assholes who ruined the moment.
Well, there is no one to interrupt back at the RV.
Except it’s a half-hour walk away. A fact I realize when we get to higher ground, and I see it parked at the edge of the wall in the distance.
“Shit,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut.
Jude’s hand slides down my arm and he grips my hand. His expression is determined when he speaks.
“Doesn’t matter how long it takes to get back. There is no way this is over.”
Chapter 12
It takes longer than planned to get back to the campsite, because it’s harder going. The tension has been growing between us, and where he’s been able, Jude has kept hold of my hand. We didn’t pause to take anymore pictures.