Page 21 of Down and Dirty

“Me?” I asked, crawling backward off of his body. “Sure. Are you?”

He sat up with me, matching my movement until his lips were an inch from mine. The intense stare of his eyes held mine. “I’m fine.”

I don’t know what possessed me. Maybe it was the fact that he stopped me from breaking my neck, or heck, maybe it was that he’d shared his hot dogs. Whatever it was, I could always blame a temporary lack of sanity.

I pressed my lips to his, and his hand rested on my neck, easing me back down to the position we’d landed in. He rolled me onto my side, his hold tender and sure.

He kissed me back.

His fingers twisted in my hair as I clutched him tighter, pulling him closer to me, unable to get enough. Our legs entwined, and I gave in to his hold, letting him take what I wanted to give him.

The heat of the night was nothing compared to the sparks from his touch, the demand in his kiss.

He eased away, breaking the connection, and we both struggled to calm the desire racing through us. He rested his forehead against mine. “It was better than I imagined.”

I sat unmoving, unbelieving that had just happened. Heat climbed through my body and into my cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” My words were a whisper between us.

“I’m not,” he answered as he leaned in to kiss me again.

His lips had just touched mine with a soft caress when screams rent the night air.

He shot to his feet, scanning the area around us. “That sounded like it came from all directions.”

“It did,” I said, pushing myself off the ground and brushing off the leaves and weeds still clinging to my clothes from our fall. “Rumor has it that these woods are haunted. No one can explain the sounds.”

His gaze went down my body as if searching for wounds as tension struck his shoulders.

I shouldn’t have kissed him. I hadn’t even decided if I liked him. I touched his arm as I passed. “I think I will get a couple hours of sleep.”

He only nodded and led me back to our tents. I climbed into my sleeping bag and released my first pent-up breath while silently berating myself for starting a kiss that I’d measure all future kisses against. Damn him and damn me.

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