Jace
The darkness is thick all around, and trees loom on both sides of the narrow trail. The beam of my headlamp shows only the few steps in front of us. We joined the trail about twenty minutes ago, and according to the map, it should lead to the cabin.
I memorized the map in the car so I wouldn’t have to get it out in the rain.
I hope like hell I’ve got it right and we’re not following an animal trail by mistake.
I pause to check the compass, and Kayla crashes into the back of me.
I reach an arm around to steady her. She straightens up, and in the beam of my headlamp, I catch her expression.
Her face is pale, and water drips from the hood of her jacket.
She gives me a weak smile and a thumbs-up.
She’s tired but strong, which is what I need her to be.
We can’t be far away from the hut, and then we can dry off and rest.
The compass is still pointing north, so I’m reassured this is the correct trail and not some animal path. Things could get interesting if we’ve wandered down a bear trail.
We start moving again, and about ten minutes later the hut comes into view.
The wooden slats are bowed with age, and vines creep along the one window frame.
The door isn’t locked, and I step inside with Kayla close behind me.
The cabin is one room with a bench running down one corner in what seems to be a kitchen area.
There’s a wooden table, a single chair, and a thin roll of old carpet on the floor.
Rain hammers the tin roof, but for the first time in what seems like hours, it’s not getting us.
I turn to check on Kayla; it’s been a hard few hours getting here, and I don’t know how much experience she has with hiking, although this would be classed as extreme even for a seasoned hiker.
She pushes off her hood, and her hair is wet underneath.
Her rain jacket has done a poor job of keeping her dry.
She slides off her backpack and tries to undo the rope, but her fingers are white and trembling, and she fumbles.
“You’re freezing.” I take her hands in mine, and they’re like icicles.
“It’s just my hands.” But as she speaks, her teeth chatter.
Hypothermia is a real risk, and I move quickly to make her warm. I undo the rope tying us together and lean my pack against the wall. From it I pull a warmer pack. I rip the foil package open and rub it in my hands to release the heat.
“Hold this.”
Kayla holds out her hand, and I place the warmer in her palm and put the other hand on top of it. Then I enclose them both in my hands and rub her skin to transfer the heat.
Her fingers are small and delicate against my meaty hands. I lift them to my lips and blow warm air onto her skin. She shudders, and our eyes lock, and a different type of heat dances between us.
If I could harness that heat to keep her warm, I would, but there are more practical ways to combat hypothermia than a heated stare.
“Take your wet things off. We need to get you dry.”
“How about you?” she asks, between her chattering teeth. “You need to get warm too.”
Her thoughtfulness is sweet, but I promised Kayla I’d keep her safe, and I intend to. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’m tough as nails. I can handle a little rain.”
“That was more than a little rain.”
The fact that she’s joking with me is a good sign, but I still need to get her dry and warm pronto.
“Clothes off. Now.”
She raises her eyebrows. “And you accused me of being forward.”
She puts the heat pack on the bench and fumbles with her jacket zipper. After a few moments, she looks at me with frustration.
“My fingers are too numb. Can you do it?”
I swallow hard. She’s asking me to undress her, and even though we’ve just walked through a rainstorm, she might have hypothermia, and we’re stranded in a cabin with no outside communication, my fucking cock stirs to life.
I hope to hell she doesn’t notice what an asshole my cock is as I crouch in front of her. Her soaked leggings cling to her and give off a musky scent that’s all Kayla. My cock pushes against my wet pants, making this even more uncomfortable than it already is.
I swallow hard and take the zipper in my fingers, trembling with something other than cold.
I manage to get the jacket undone and slide it off her arms. Underneath she has on a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt which has gotten wet through the light jacket.
No wonder she’s so fucking cold. I should have checked her outfit before we left, but I was too eager to get out of the car and away from the river.
The wet t-shirt needs to come off, so I hook my thumbs under it. “You okay if I take this off too?”
She nods and I pull the t-shirt over her head, exposing her pale belly and some kind of stretchy white fabric bra that is the most un-sexy underwear I’ve ever seen, but on Kayla it looks erotic as hell.
Her hands immediately fly to her stomach, covering it up. Unnecessary, but I don’t mind because it gives me a view of her perfect breasts pushing to get out of their bra and the creamy cleavage that I bet feels silky smooth.
I must be staring, because she coughs, and I remember that I’m trying really hard not to be an asshole and drag my gaze away from her tits and to her face.
“That’s going to need to come off too.”
She nods shyly, and if she wasn’t so cold, I bet her cheeks would have a pretty pink blush to them. But she is cold and shaking, so we have to move quickly.
I spin her around to find the clasp for the bra and to make sure I’m not facing her when it comes off, because seeing her breasts might be too much for this reformed asshole to handle without having to run my hands over them.
But the bra has no clasp like a normal bra, and I spend a few seconds running my hands over it looking for the hidden release.
“How the fuck do you get into this?”
She giggles, and I welcome the sound. It’s better than the chattering of her teeth. But her body shudders with cold as her hands move to the front of her bra.
“The clasp is at the front.” She tries to undo the clasp but gives up in frustration. “You’ll have to do it.”
Oh fuck. I’m really in trouble now. But I need to get her out of that wet bra and into something dry and warm.
“Are you okay with that?”
I come around to face her again, and she peers up at me.
“Yes.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and I try to keep my fingers only on the clasp and not stroke her creamy skin, like I long to do.
“There are three clasps down the front seam.”
“Three? This is tougher than ranger selection.”
She giggles again, and her body shudders. Her skin has tiny goosebumps, and I try not to notice them as I fumble with the bra. I undo the first clasp and it opens up the top of the bra, exposing more cleavage. My cock goes rock hard, and my mouth goes bone dry.
The second clasp pops open, and the sides of her breasts are exposed, and they are as luscious and full as I imagined they would be.
I try not to lick my lips, but it’s hard to hide the effect this is having on me.
The bra is holding on by one clasp, and when that goes, it’s going to fall open and expose her completely, and I don’t want Kayla to feel uncomfortable.
“I’m going to close my eyes when I do this last one. Let me know when I can open them.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as my fingers brush her soft skin. Pre-cum seeps out of my dick, and closing my eyes was a bad idea. Now her spicy scent teases my senses, and my fingers zing with every accidental touch.
The clasp pops open and I feel the bra fall open, and I pull my hands back and try really hard not to peek.
A moment later Kayla tells me she’s decent, and when I open my eyes, she’s standing with the offending bra, now open but held over her breasts, which does fuck all to hide them. The only thing I can’t see is the nipples.
“My fingers are too numb to get my clothes.”
Her clothes. Right. To stop her from getting hypothermia.
I compartmentalize the topless beauty standing before me and focus my mind on survival.
In Kayla’s pack, I find a clean t-shirt and a sweater. I forget about a bra; I’m not grappling with one of those again. Keeping my movements efficient, I help her put on her dry clothes.
Then we deal with the bottom half.
It’s torture sliding her leggings off, and luckily for her, by the time I get to her underwear, her fingers are working again. She manages to get dry underwear on and a new set of leggings, and while she does that, I pull my sleeping bag out of my pack.
“You bought your own sleeping bag to a retreat?” she asks.
“Force of habit.”
I lay my bedroll on the floor. It’s thin, but it’s all we’ve got, and Kayla climbs into the sleeping bag and pulls it tight around her. Her teeth are still chattering, but color has returned to her cheeks and she can use her hands again.
Now that she’s squared away, I change quickly into dry clothes. Then I hang our wet things as best I can around the room.
I check my phone, and there are two check marks indicating that somewhere on our hike, we moved through a patch of signal and my text made its way to Grant.
There’s no reply, but at least he knows we’re together and we have a plan for shelter. I send another one to let him know we made it to the hut and we’re safe, but it doesn’t go through. I’ll walk out later to try to find signal.
When I glance down at Kayla, she’s asleep. The sleeping bag is pulled up to her chin, and her hair is fanned out, drying around her.
I pull my backpack over to the wall next to her and sit down so I’m leaning against it.
The carpet doesn’t stretch this far, and the wooden floor is hard and cold.
If I really was an asshole, I’d throw Kayla out of my sleeping bag, or at least claim half.
But when I look down at the sleeping beauty, something inside me shifts.
This isn’t a ranger mission where every man takes care of himself.
This is the woman I promised to protect and keep safe through the storm.
More than that, this is a woman whose scent drives me wild and who I’m starting to learn has hidden depths under her calm surface. Depths that I want to explore.
She looks peaceful and worn out. It’s been a long day, and sleep is the best thing for her.
I’m happy to relinquish my sleeping bag to her.
I’m trained to sleep anywhere, and I don’t need to be comfortable to get some shut-eye.
I’m going to stay right here, next to Kayla, so I’m here when she awakes, no matter how uncomfortable it is.