Hot sex with Dallas . . .
For the second time in a few days, which was highly unusual.
Her stomach flipped over. She had to be careful. Dallas had unloaded a lot of information about himself, and while his honesty gave her some peace, he wasn’t the ideal person to get more involved with. After all, how was freeing herself from the CIA any good if she jumped right back into a dangerous world? A world on the other side of the law.
No. Anything serious with Dallas would be a step in the wrong direction. Plus, the CIA would probably watch her once she left, and that could further implicate Dallas and his brothers.
She rubbed her palm over her forehead. Geez. It was too early to dive this deeply into life decisions. Coffee first. Then she could remind herself of all the reasons staying in Dallas’s orbit for more than a yearly sex session would be suicide.
Lifting her head, she scanned the interior of the plane. The bed that Eli had slept in was gone, and she sighed with relief. She didn’t want to have to sneak by his sleeping form. She tossed back the covers, slipped on her boots, and made her way to the door. Prying it open, she peered at the firepit they’d made last night.
Darkness still clung to one end of the sky, and the orange she’d seen from the plane lit the other. Dallas sat on an overturned bucket near the flames, water boiling in a pot in front of him. His gaze snapped to her as if he’d sensed her, and his mouth moved into a soft grin, doing all kinds of things to her belly.
“Coffee?” he called from next to the fire.
She nodded. Folding her arms across her chest, she walked down the plane’s crooked stairs and surveyed their little cutout of the jungle. “Where’s Eli?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Probably doing his business.” He pulled the pot off the fire and poured the water into two stainless steel mugs.
She also had personal business to tend to, but the thought of doing so in the jungle made her skin crawl. “Where exactly does one find a suitable bathroom without worrying about having something poisonous bite their . . . delicate areas?”
Dallas threw his head back on a laugh. Even though she was pretty sure he hadn’t brushed them, his teeth still gleamed like shiny pearls. He passed her one of the cups and nodded at the powdered creamer and packets of white sugar that she usually wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.
“I mean, if you want privacy, you’re going to have to go behind the trees. Just make sure to clear a spot and check the ground and overhead. And take a stick with you.”
She ripped open a sugar packet and grimaced. “Sounds lovely.”
His grin melted her tension. “I could go with you if you want.”
She wrinkled her nose. “No, thanks.” The only thing worse than going to the bathroom in the jungle would be doing it with an audience.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She sipped the warm brew. Normally instant coffee wouldn’t be her thing, but right now it was divine.
The shrill ring of a phone split the air, and birds squawked angrily. Dallas dipped his hand into the pocket on the side of his cargo shorts and waved the bulky device at her. “It’s Dare. One sec.”
He tapped a button and brought the screen to his ear. “Hey.”
A male voice rattled something off, but Gemma couldn’t make out what Dallas’s brother was saying. A beat passed.
“I checked this morning. We’ve got a long day ahead of us, but hopefully we’ll reach a town before nightfall.”
Gemma swirled the liquid in her cup and fought the overwhelming urge to sink to the ground and not move. They had at least twelve hours of daylight. That was a long-ass walk. Yesterday’s had been far shorter and she’d almost died of fatigue.
Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t have a choice. Staying in the jungle wasn’t an option. The sooner they got off their asses and put one foot in front of the other, the sooner they’d be out of here.
She got to her feet. Dallas looked at her, a question in his eyes, and she pointed to the bushes. He nodded, and she set down her cup near the fire and strode off. Monkeys cackled overhead. The orchestra of the jungle was becoming familiar and almost . . . calming. Even though they were stranded, they weren’t really alone.
Oh, lord. Was she getting jungle fever?
She brushed aside leaves as she waltzed into the foliage. Mosquitos buzzed, promising to bite her ripe flesh as soon as she pulled down her pants. After finding a tree, she took a minute to inspect the ground and the branches overhead. Then she broke off one of the sticks and kept it beside her. With one last look to ensure Eli wasn’t close by, she pulled down her pants and did her business.
Not wasting a moment, she cleaned herself with leaves—praying they weren’t poisonous—and stood. When she returned to the fire, Eli was there eating a protein bar and holding a cup in the hand that was in the sling. Dallas hung up the phone as she approached.
“Well?” she asked.
He slid his gaze over her body and back to her face. “Did you make out okay?”