Page 65 of Always Be an Us

"Maybe. Or Old Man Shoreton's."

"I'll get a fire going," I tell her. "You get out of those clothes and off your feet."

She shivers and nods. I hear her shuffling behind me, as I head to the fireplace, arranging the leftover wood and kindling into a respectable pile.

Then I search the small space for a box of matches, finding one in a closet beside the couch. I also discover an old mattress there with no sheets. I drag it out, lay it beside the fireplace, and start the fire.

"Alright. If the storm doesn't let up, we can at least sleep here for the night."

I turn around as I speak, and then nearly choke on my saliva.

Emma is sitting obediently near the door, her hair wet and flat against her face.

She stripped down to her underwear, a pink bra, and black cotton panties. Not the sexiest pair I've ever seen, but the effect on me is explosive.

Desire pumps through me.

When I gave the order, I was simply focused on her safety and avoiding hypothermia. I didn't consider what seeing her near-naked body was going to do to me.

But now my heartbeat vies with the storm raging outside.

"Um...you should probably take those off too." She licks her lips and looks away, gesturing towards me. "I don't want you to get hypothermia either."

"Yeah." My voice is rough, as I immediately sweep my shirt off my head. Emma's eyes flare open in heat as I start unlacing my sweatpants, before pushing them down too.

I strip down to my briefs, and we stand there staring at each other like two hungry beasts trying to pretend we weren't starving for each other. Then I walk to her, and slowly pick her up, nearly groaning at the feel of her skin against mine. I slowly lie with her on the mattress, with her back against my chest.

"Body heat," I murmur in her ears, and she shivers.

And for the next few minutes, I try to do the decent thing. I try to pretend that we can just lie here platonically together without it meaning anything.

But pretty soon, I realize it's impossible.

Every shred of me is hungry for every shred of her.

And before I can stop myself, my hand splays over her stomach and I close my eyes, trying to fight the urge to do more.

Chapter Nineteen

Emma

Declan's fingers drift, spreading across my stomach. My skin starts to hum at the points of contact, and my heart begins a steady thump.

I've been hyper aware of my body, ever since he curled up behind me, and his heat pressing against me. My heartbeat sounds so loud that I’m surprised he hasn’t heard it yet. It's all I can hear, and all I can see is the storm raging outside through the windows, the whistling wind slamming against the wood. It all echoes the tornado within me.

I feel crazy.

Declan hasn't even done anything yet, and I want to moan from the tension and pressure building up inside me, the sheer anticipation making me want to beg. His index fingers trace circles around my stomach and my sharp intake of breath wrecks the intimate hush of the room. Declan's subtle touch makes goosebumps break out over my body, his touch awakening something needy and desperate inside me.

It lulls me into a trance, and I forget the storm outside and the dirty mattress pressed against my side. I forget the scent of mold and wood, the fireplace spreading heat over my skin.

I'm surrounded only by him.

Without even knowing it, I’m moving into his touch in a slow, subconscious way.

His chest is so warm behind mine, so solid. I remember it pressed against mine as he carried me through the forest effortlessly. Ironically, I came out here to save him, but the reverse happened instead.

If I'd fallen and tumbled down the hill, God only knows what would have happened to me. Probably something worse than a sprained ankle.

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