Page 45 of Brawler
She startled, dropping the bundle in her arms. The square of cloth spilled open, scattering its contents across the ground: round guavas, spiny starfruit, glossy nuts, and a handful of bitter greens. In her other hand, dangling from a length of twine, three hare-sized jungle rodents, mottled brown and limp. A snare hung from her belt, proof enough of how she’d caught them.
He stopped dead. His mouth dropped open. Relief, fury, and something hotter tangled in his chest like live wires sparking.
Her eyes narrowed, chest rising sharp with indignation. “Dammit, Brawler. What the hell is wrong with you? You scared the hell out of me.”
He barked out a laugh, raw and incredulous. “I scared the hell out of you? What the fuck, Shortcake. You vanish, and I come back to find your clothes at the pool like you’d been dragged off. You want to talk about scaring someone? Didn’t I just tell you I don’t like it when you disappear?”
She planted her fists on her hips, that pixie face pinched into annoyance, though her cheeks still glowed from the heat between them. “I’m sorry! You did! But you left in a huff after what we shared. So you needed space, fine, but I was starving. We need meat for Beast, food for us. I’m not the type to sit around waiting for the big, strong man to provide. I’m a jungle pixie, remember?”
His blood surged hot. He closed the distance in two strides, looming over her until she had to tilt her head back. “You think this is funny? I tell you to stay put, and what do you do? You swap out SD cards, swoon over paw prints, and nearly tumble yourself into an early grave. I tell youagainto stay put, and I find you scribbling in your goddamn journal while I’m losing my shit, thinking someone has you. Then…” His voice cracked harsh. “Then you turn me inside out in the pool, and I don’t know which way is up anymore. So I take a perimeter check,try to claw back some peace, and what happens? You’re goneagain.”
Her eyes snapped, fierce green fire threaded with glints of gold, a blaze that dared him to come closer and tangle with her. “You’re bossy! I don’t need your permission to go on a shopping trip. I don’t like to be controlled!”
“Bossy? A shopping trip? This isn’t civilization, Emily, and I’m telling you like it is. It’s not aggression or control. It’s me scared shitless because every time I turn around, you’re gone.” Her breath caught, and he felt it like it was his own, a sharp hitch in his chest that didn’t belong to him. The blaze of her defiance wavered, thinned by the ripple of recognition sliding through her. She heard him. For one beat, her stubborn fire cooled, and what pressed against him wasn’t anger at all but the quiet throb of understanding.
Then the flare came back, chin high, arms crossed, ready to battle him again, but he couldn’t shake the sweet aftertaste of that flicker. Couldn’t ignore that, for a split second, she’d let him feel that his fear had reached her.
“This is the jungle, and it’s filled with danger. I’m trying to protect you. What is it about that you don’t understand?”
Her frown softened. “I’m not used to it. Okay? I take care of myself.” She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “We needed provisions, and I’m holding up my half of the bargain.”
He blinked. “What bargain is that?”
She shoved at his chest, hard. “You’re stepping on the nuts, you stubborn, overprotective oaf. Move.”
He caught her wrists, grip firm but not cruel. Beast, unsettled by the rising voices, twined between his legs, pressing close as if to fuse them back together. The movement threw him off balance. He staggered, trying to correct, but momentum betrayed him.
They went down hard into the leaf litter, tangled in limbs and curses. When the dust settled, Emily was straddling him, her palms splayed against his chest, breathless, wild-eyed.
This time she didn’t scramble off.
Her breath hitched, eyes widening as the realization struck them both. The air charged between them, the weight of their argument burning away under something far more dangerous.
His chest heaved, tangled up in her heat and his own spiraling emotions. “This isn’t a fucking supermarket, oh great fairy queen. This is the goddamned jungle.”
Her growl tore out, low and furious. “I know it’s thegoddamnedjungle. You think I’m some clueless scientist, bumbling around with my little notebook? I have been in and out of this jungle for six months, and initially, I collected data for six weeks on my own. No hill tumbles. No merry band of special operators claiming my airspace. I came with you because you scared me into it. Now my dissertation, my work, my very life is in jeopardy. The one time I try to help, to contribute, you bark at me like I’m a goddamn recruit. You ungrateful, lunatic bastard.”
He glared up at her, pulse hammering. “What fucking bargain?”
Her fingers fisted into the sides of his vest, dragging him closer until her hair brushed his jaw. “The one where I only have so much to give. Without you, those men would’ve raped me, killed me. I know that. You’re my shield, my net, my protector. But stop looking at me like I don’t know how to survive.”
The words gutted him. He closed his eyes, the fight draining out of his body even as tension still thrummed through every muscle. His voice came low, ragged, breaking against the weight of it. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not essential, Em. If I’m not the one holding it all together, then who the fuck am I?” His throat worked, the rasp cutting deeper. “I don’t know how you got under my skin so deep, but I can’t breathe sometimes.” Hedragged in a breath, sharp and uneven, as if it hurt to say the words aloud. “So yeah, fucking forgive me for being a raging, lunatic bastard when I think you’re in danger. I can’t…bear that.”
Her breath caught, eyes shining with something that wasn’t just fury anymore. She whispered, voice breaking, “Who did this to you? Who made you believe you weren’t enough just as you are? Tell me, and I’ll hunt them down and glitter-burn them alive.”
His breath hitched. God, she was beautiful and outraged, furious about the stupid confession that had burned in his chest since she’d saved him on that cliff. He fought to leash his desire, but she already knew. His erection pressed hard against her belly, and he wasn’t fooling her for a second. Did he even want to?
Her eyes caught his with a fierce magnetism. The fire there wasn’t just anger. It was knowing. Appreciation. Hunger. A recognition that whatever stood between them was no longer a spark but a blaze, changing the ground under their feet. The weight of it punched through his chest, leaving him raw, unarmored, undone.
Something in him caved, collapsed under the weight of emotions he’d carried too long. He fisted the back of her head, rolled her beneath him, and took her mouth like a starving man. She was volume, she was strong, she was too much, and he still couldn’t get enough, drinking her in until he thought he might break.
That citrus scent clung to her hair and skin, fresh and sharp. He groaned into her lips, softer strands tangling through his fingers. Her mouth met his with equal heat, equal desperation. He shouldn’t even be touching her, sweat, dirt, blood on his skin, but he needed her warmth, needed her to burn out the fear that his jungle girl was exactly right for him.
His hips surged against her pelvis. She answered with a jackknife thrust, a groan that went straight through him. His hand slid up, molding her breast into his palm, small and delicate against his callused grip. She pulled at his vest, frustrated, arching beneath him, red hair fanned like spilled fire across the jungle floor.
His breath locked.Christ, what thefuckwas he doing?
The operator in him roared awake. They were in the open, exposed, vulnerable. Fighting like caged animals while danger prowled the trees. He tore himself away, chest heaving, and grabbed for his rifle.
