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Authors: Maureen A. Miller
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past the veil of water, but he aimed toward Megan’s voice, feeling his hamstring ache when he budged his knee forward.
Out of that murky pall he sensed her touch on his arm. “Are you alright?” she repeated, the wind stealing her voice.
“Yeah, never been better.”
He reached for Megan. Whether it was to support her or stabilize himself, he wasn’t sure. He gripped her upper arms and managed to blink away enough moisture to see her inquisitive eyes staring up at him.
Megan’s hair was soaked. She watched him like a doe studying an intruder, drops clinging to the ends of her dark lashes.
“Now don’t we just look ridiculous?” he said in a voice that was gruffer than usual.
Megan cleared her throat, but didn’t let go of him. “It’s just hard to get a footing on this —”
As if to validate her appeal, Megan used the leverage of her grip on him and tried to stand up. Even the slight pressure of her body made his knee slide. He grappled for control and started to list. The motion drew Megan with him. She fought against the tug, but the slick pool undermined all her efforts.
In one graceless move, Jake landed on his back, deep in the muck. Still connected, Megan followed and sprawled awkwardly on top of him.
Lifting his head enough to get his ears out of the mud, Jake forgot about the storm. He forgot about the debilitating mire. Misery was replaced with the heady sensation of Megan’s slim body molded to his.
Slick and lubricated by mud, she slithered and slipped, vainly searching for a way to stand. Every effort ended with her splayed right back on top of him, each budge grinding her hips against his. Jake swallowed a rough groan, his hands sliding down Megan’s back to keep her still, but anxiety made her squirm all the more.
This was the most exquisite rainfall, a sultry torrent that washed over him, every supple move making him impossibly harder.
To still the maddening motion, his hands shot down to her fidgeting bottom. Azure eyes sprang open and stared at him. Shock and fear brightened her gaze. For a moment she didn’t move. She watched him until her gaze dropped to his mouth, where she lingered long enough to bring heat to this arctic rain.
“Hold still,” she whispered. “I’m going to try and stand up.”
Jake felt Megan’s legs scissor with his. He suffered as the length of her thigh nudged between his, and he could barely resist kneading his fingers into the fine swell of her bottom.
“It doesn’t appear I’m going anywhere,” he replied.
Megan planted her hands on either side of his shoulders and prodded her knee up for leverage. Water quickly pooled into the fresh indentation, and when she budged, she lost her balance and her chin smacked against Jake’s chest.
“Ugh.” In a torrent of writhing limbs, she swayed first one way, then another, but ended up elbow-deep in the mire.
Jake’s husky voice arrested her. “Megan.” His fingers splayed across her bottom, and the instinctive nudge of his hips was enough to halt her activity. “Please don’t move.”
Megan froze. She heard the thick sound of Jake’s voice and felt the hard length of him between her legs. A strangled moan caught in her throat when his palms pressed her tighter against that sweet torture.
Her limbs grew numb. Blood fled them to pool low in her body. Without even thinking, she joined in the pressure of his hands and rashly ground into him.
“Megan,” Jake said thickly as he lifted his hands and surged his fingers into the muddy tangle of hair. His thumbs caressed her cheeks to quell her motion, and then he raised his head.
Megan felt the warmth of Jake’s breath, the sweet sense of his mouth so near. Drugged by his aura, her eyelids dropped closed, awaiting something unknown—awaiting fire in this deluge of rain. But just before his lips could touch hers, just before she could feel that contact that she irrationally wanted so badly, she shoved off and rolled onto her side. She lay
Out of that murky pall he sensed her touch on his arm. “Are you alright?” she repeated, the wind stealing her voice.
“Yeah, never been better.”
He reached for Megan. Whether it was to support her or stabilize himself, he wasn’t sure. He gripped her upper arms and managed to blink away enough moisture to see her inquisitive eyes staring up at him.
Megan’s hair was soaked. She watched him like a doe studying an intruder, drops clinging to the ends of her dark lashes.
“Now don’t we just look ridiculous?” he said in a voice that was gruffer than usual.
Megan cleared her throat, but didn’t let go of him. “It’s just hard to get a footing on this —”
As if to validate her appeal, Megan used the leverage of her grip on him and tried to stand up. Even the slight pressure of her body made his knee slide. He grappled for control and started to list. The motion drew Megan with him. She fought against the tug, but the slick pool undermined all her efforts.
In one graceless move, Jake landed on his back, deep in the muck. Still connected, Megan followed and sprawled awkwardly on top of him.
Lifting his head enough to get his ears out of the mud, Jake forgot about the storm. He forgot about the debilitating mire. Misery was replaced with the heady sensation of Megan’s slim body molded to his.
Slick and lubricated by mud, she slithered and slipped, vainly searching for a way to stand. Every effort ended with her splayed right back on top of him, each budge grinding her hips against his. Jake swallowed a rough groan, his hands sliding down Megan’s back to keep her still, but anxiety made her squirm all the more.
This was the most exquisite rainfall, a sultry torrent that washed over him, every supple move making him impossibly harder.
To still the maddening motion, his hands shot down to her fidgeting bottom. Azure eyes sprang open and stared at him. Shock and fear brightened her gaze. For a moment she didn’t move. She watched him until her gaze dropped to his mouth, where she lingered long enough to bring heat to this arctic rain.
“Hold still,” she whispered. “I’m going to try and stand up.”
Jake felt Megan’s legs scissor with his. He suffered as the length of her thigh nudged between his, and he could barely resist kneading his fingers into the fine swell of her bottom.
“It doesn’t appear I’m going anywhere,” he replied.
Megan planted her hands on either side of his shoulders and prodded her knee up for leverage. Water quickly pooled into the fresh indentation, and when she budged, she lost her balance and her chin smacked against Jake’s chest.
“Ugh.” In a torrent of writhing limbs, she swayed first one way, then another, but ended up elbow-deep in the mire.
Jake’s husky voice arrested her. “Megan.” His fingers splayed across her bottom, and the instinctive nudge of his hips was enough to halt her activity. “Please don’t move.”
Megan froze. She heard the thick sound of Jake’s voice and felt the hard length of him between her legs. A strangled moan caught in her throat when his palms pressed her tighter against that sweet torture.
Her limbs grew numb. Blood fled them to pool low in her body. Without even thinking, she joined in the pressure of his hands and rashly ground into him.
“Megan,” Jake said thickly as he lifted his hands and surged his fingers into the muddy tangle of hair. His thumbs caressed her cheeks to quell her motion, and then he raised his head.
Megan felt the warmth of Jake’s breath, the sweet sense of his mouth so near. Drugged by his aura, her eyelids dropped closed, awaiting something unknown—awaiting fire in this deluge of rain. But just before his lips could touch hers, just before she could feel that contact that she irrationally wanted so badly, she shoved off and rolled onto her side. She lay
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