Page 59 of Captured By the Scaled Outlaw
I playfully push him away, flustered. “A-anyhow, we should check to see if your leg—” I start, sliding out from underneath him.
Lowell stops me, pressing me back to the ground.
“Let’s stay like this for a while,” he says, swaying his hips against mine. The noise it makes is absolutelyfilthy.
I blush even harder, the intimate nature of us lying against one another while still being joined post-climax has my abdomen bursting with nerves. The feeling grows no less affectionate when Lowell collects me into his arms, pressing my head against his chest in an embrace.
“Lowell…” I protest, soothed by his slow and steady heartbeat.
“Nah, let’s relax. If I’m bleeding, it was well-worth it,” he snickers.
I stop resisting his crushing strength and succumb to his grasp with a natural ease.
“You’re impossible.” My cheek molds to his pectorals, creasing as Ismile against him.
As I exhale, I realize I’m more exhausted than I thought. My arms and legs liquefy as I relax, an unfamiliar comfort and security I haven’t felt in years washing over me like a soft quilt on a chilly night.
I nod my head against the hard muscles of his chest. “Fine, we can stay like this, but only for a little bit.”
Lowell hums, gently stroking my bicep with his thumb. “Yeah, of course. Only for a little bit.”
Within a few minutes, I quickly drift off into a deep slumber. I dream of a warm bath with lavender flowers scattered across the top, a cup of citrus tea, and the resounding relief of finally being home. Even in my delirious sleep-state, I recognize that this sensation hasn’t come from my mind’s recreation of my childhood home, but rather from an internal all-encompassing peace.
Although I don’t wake up during the night, I know for certain that Lowell and I stay cuddled together for the rest of the night.
Chapter 20
“Turn the key.”
My lips press into a line. “And if it doesn’t start?”
Lowell sighs, rolling his eyes. “Then we die. Our corpses will rot in this damn desert for all eternity, vultures picking at whatever is left of us. No one will ever know what became of us.”
I frown. “That’s not inspiring my confidence. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”
With a snort, he shrugs. “Nah, not really, so lighten up. We won’t know anything for sure until you turn the damn thing.”
I hate how nervous I feel. I’m one twist of the wrist away from knowing if I will ever see my old life again — if I’ll ever feel the softness of my own bed sheets, the city’s buzzing of vehicles, or the soft chattering of residents. My stomach churns, almost not wanting an answer.
Lowell doesn’t seem bothered at all. Then again, his regard for his life has always been shallow.
I can’t keep stalling.
Tentatively, I twist the key.
Lowell and I flinch in unison as the engine rattles to life, the screams of mechanical whirring overshadowing the hollow howling of the sandstorm.
I smile widely, my vision obscured by lifted eyelids.
“It’s working! I can’t believe it’s actually working!” I shout, jumping as high as I can from a crouched position. Giddiness tints my cheeks pink, the joy of success something I truly needed.
Lowell smiles warmly as he curiously looks me up and down as I thrash in excitement.
We are one step closer to surviving this sandstorm. One step closer to my life, my job — my grin drops to a sullen look. I suddenly remember that although we have been allies for the past few days, I am still an enemy of Gaia 4. Once I leave, we’ll remain on opposite sides.
The thought shouldn’t upset me, yet after all that’s happened, it drops a weight on my chest.
“You should turn it off before it loses gas,” Lowell says, the corners of his mouth still curled.
