Page 86 of Mountain Rescue
“Wow,” she said between gasps for breath. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the pounding of his heart.
He chuckled, his lips vibrating on her skin. “Yeah, wow.”
Would he miss her when she left, and how long would it take her to stop missing him? She’d admitted to herself that this was a man she could love, but she was afraid her heart had taken that as a green light to belong to him. What if she never stopped missing him?
“You okay?” He leaned away and ran a critical gaze over her. “Oh, hell. I’m sorry.” He gently rested the tips of his fingers on her jaw. “You’re hurt, and I’m a selfish bastard. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I wanted you to. Needed you to.” Her jaw was throbbing, but she’d forgotten about it until now.
His gaze lowered to her feet, and he scowled. She leaned over and peered down. Drops of blood were on the floor from her cut feet.
“I’m sorry,” he said again as he stepped away.
“Please don’t be. Honestly, I didn’t even feel them.” She did now. They were throbbing along with her jaw.
“Are you sure?” His eyes searched hers. “I should have taken care of you before taking what I wanted.”
“Dallas, you did take care of me.” She reached for his hand. “You gave me what I wanted and needed.” This man...did he have any idea how big his heart was?
“Okay.” He swiped a hand through his hair as he scanned the room. “I’m sure Jack put a first aid kit somewhere.” He opened the cabinet under the counter, closed it, tried the linen closet, and when he didn’t see one there, he pointed at her. “Don’t move.”
She sighed at his retreating backside.You have a sexy as all get-out butt, Dallas Manning.He sure did, but the scars on his back, arms, and legs brought tears to her eyes. Her feet and jaw were nothing compared to what was done to him. How had he endured that kind of pain and suffering without losing his mind?
And the scar on his face that had to have been made by a knife? She couldn’t imagine how much it must have hurt. Strangely, although it was prominent, she hardly noticed it anymore.
There were so many things she wanted to know about him but was hesitant to ask. She didn’t want to bring up bad memories with her questions. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t suffering from PTSD. She’d never seen him jumpy or depressed. The one time she’d witnessed his nightmare, which she knew was of his time in captivity, he’d been fine the next morning. She wasn’t even sure if he remembered having one.
He returned, holding a bag of frozen corn and a red box. “Found it.” He set the box on the counter, then handed her the frozen corn. “Hold this to your cheek.” He picked up his boxer briefs and slipped them on.
Well, that was disappointing. She much preferred him in all his naked glory. He reached for the first aid kit, stilled when his arm brushed her breast, then picked up her T-shirt. “Put this on. Your titties are too distracting.”
She burst out laughing. He shrugged, his expression just too cute, that of a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She couldn’t resist messing with him. She stretched her arms above her head, then shook like a wet dog, making her breasts jiggle. “Ah, that felt good.”
“Rachel.”
The way he growled her name sent real shivers through her. “Yes?” she innocently said as she blinked up at him.
He pushed the shirt into her hand. “On. Now.”
She smirked. “Something bothering you, cowboy?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Something was bothering Dallas all right. He’d had to have her and hadn’t given a second thought as to what she’d been through or her jaw and torn-up feet. Never mind that she said she’d wanted that, too. He shouldn’t have let his baser needs take control. She’d been through hell today, and he’d had every intention of bringing her back to the cabin and taking care of her.
She could have died at the hands of that bastard. The thought of a world without Rachel in it messed with his mind. He couldn’t deny that he was falling for her, and that also messed with his mind. To hide what he feared was showing on his face—that he was falling for her and not knowing how she’d react to that—he dropped to his knees, bringing the first aid kit with him.
At least she’d put her shirt on, and he could concentrate on her feet instead of her breasts. Because hooyah, her breasts were magnificent, and he wasn’t lying when he said they were a distraction.
The bottoms of her feet were a bloody mess. He closed his eyes and willed his rage down to a simmer. He really should have fucking killed Hargrove. He opened the first aid kit and took out a package of gauze, opened it, and then handed the gauze to her. “Wet this for me.”
When she gave it back to him, he gently cleaned the bottoms of her feet, then picked out the small shards of rocks embedded in both of them. How had she kept running on these shredded feet? He looked up at her.
“Have I told you that you’re badass?” And a very sexy one.
“I think it was Deke who told me that.”
He grunted. He should have been the one to tell her how badass she was.
