5. Skylar
CHAPTER 5
SKYLAR
W hat was a peaceful night turns into chaos as the storm hits hard and fast. Rain lashes the campsite, the strong force of the winds threatens to tear our tents from the ground. Lightning lights the sky in brilliant flashes, followed by deafening cracks of thunder that seem to shake the very mountain beneath us.
I struggle to help secure the camp, my injured ankle protesting with every step. The wind whips my rain-soaked hair into my face as I fight to hold down a flapping tent.
"Skylar!" Grayson's voice cuts through the storm's roar. He appears beside me, his strong hands joining mine on the tent stakes. "Get inside! You shouldn't be out here with that ankle!"
"I can help!" I shout back, stubbornly refusing to leave.
His face is a mask of determination and... is that concern? "That's an order, Hayes! Go!"
Before I can argue further, a particularly violent gust of wind rips the tent from our grasp. I lose my footing on the slick ground, crying out as my injured ankle gives way. Grayson's arms are around me in an instant, steadying me against his chest.
For a moment, the chaos of the storm fades away. I'm acutely aware of his warmth, the solid strength of his body against mine. His gray eyes meet mine, filled with an intensity that steals my breath.
"Please," he says, his voice softer now despite the raging storm. "Get to safety. I can't... I need to know you're okay."
The raw emotion in his words stuns me. I nod wordlessly, allowing him to guide me to the sturdiest tent—his own. He helps me inside, his touch lingering for just a moment before he turns back to the storm.
"Grayson!" I call out, suddenly afraid to let him go. He pauses, looking back at me. "Be careful."
A ghost of a smile flickers across his face. "Always am, sunshine."
As he disappears into the tempest, I wrap myself in the sleeping bag that smells faintly of pine and something uniquely Grayson. Despite the storm's fury, I feel oddly safe here, surrounded by his things.
I don't know how long I wait, straining to hear any sound beyond the pounding rain and howling wind. My mind races with worry—for Grayson, for the rest of the group, for our safety on this suddenly treacherous mountain.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the tent flap opens. Grayson stumbles in, soaked to the bone and looking utterly exhausted. Without thinking, I rush to him, helping him peel off his dripping rain jacket.
"Is everyone okay?" I ask, handing him a towel from his pack.
Grayson nods, running the towel over his face and through his rain-soaked hair. "Everyone's accounted for. We lost two tents, but the rest are secure. The storm's starting to ease up."
Relief floods through me. "Thank goodness. I was so worried..."
My words trail off as I realize how close we're standing. In the small confines of the tent, I can feel the heat radiating from his body, see the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes.
Grayson seems to become aware of our proximity at the same moment. His eyes lock with mine, and the air between us suddenly feels charged with electricity that has nothing to do with the storm outside.
"Skylar," he says, his voice low and rough. "I..."
But whatever he was about to say is cut off as a violent shiver runs through him. The sight snaps me out of my daze.
"You're freezing," I scold, grabbing another towel. "Here, you need to get out of these wet clothes before you catch pneumonia."
He raises an eyebrow at my bossy tone, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, ma'am."
I turn my back, giving him privacy as he changes. The rustling of fabric behind me sends my imagination into overdrive, and I feel heat creep up my neck.
"It's safe to look now," Grayson says after a moment, a hint of teasing in his voice.
I turn to find him in dry clothes, his hair still damp and tousled. The sight makes my heart skip a beat.
"Better?" I ask, aiming for a light tone.
He nods, then looks around the small tent with a frown. "I should go check on the others, make sure everyone's settled for the night."
"Grayson," I say, catching his arm as he moves to leave. "You need to rest too. You can't take care of anyone if you run yourself into the ground."
He looks down at my hand on his arm, then back up to my face. Something flickers in his eyes—vulnerability, maybe, or a longing that mirrors my own.
"Stay," I whisper, surprising us both. "Please."
For a long moment, he's silent, and I fear I've overstepped. But then he nods, almost imperceptibly.
"Okay," he says softly.
We settle into an awkward dance, trying to find comfortable positions in the cramped space. Eventually, we end up side by side, our shoulders touching as we lie on top of the sleeping bags.
The storm continues to rage outside, but in here, it feels like we're in our own little world. The tension between us is palpable, a living thing that fills the small space.
"Thank you," I say into the darkness. "For keeping us safe out there."
Grayson is quiet for so long that I think he might have fallen asleep. But then he speaks, his voice low and husky in the darkness.
"It's my job," he says. "To keep people safe on this mountain."
I turn my head to look at him, barely able to make out his profile in the dim light. "Is that all it is? Just a job?"
He's silent again, and I can almost feel him wrestling with how to respond. Finally, he sighs. "No," he admits quietly. "Not just a job. Not with you."
My breath catches in my throat. "What do you mean?"
Grayson shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, filled with an intensity that makes my heart race.
"I mean that you've gotten under my skin, Skylar Hayes," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You and your endless optimism, your determination, your infuriating ability to make me smile when all I want to do is scowl. You make me feel things I thought I'd buried a long time ago."
I reach up, cupping his cheek in my hand. His stubble is rough against my palm. "Is that such a bad thing?" I whisper.
He leans into my touch, his eyes closing briefly. "It scares the hell out of me," he admits. "I don't... I'm not good at this, Skylar. At letting people in. The last time I did..."
"What happened?" I ask gently, sensing the pain behind his words.
Grayson takes a shaky breath. "I lost someone. On this mountain. My brother. We were climbing together, and I... I couldn't save him."
My heart breaks for him. I sit up, wrapping my arms around him without hesitation. He stiffens for a moment, then melts into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
"It wasn't your fault," I murmur, running my fingers through his hair. "The mountain can be cruel, unpredictable. You can't control everything, Grayson."
He pulls back slightly, meeting my gaze. "That's what scares me about you," he says, softly. "You make me want to try. To risk it all again."
The air between us is electric, charged with unspoken longing. Slowly, giving him every chance to pull away, I lean in. Our lips meet in an achingly tender kiss, which quickly ignites into something more passionate.
Grayson's arms tighten around me as he deepens the kiss, pouring years of pent-up emotion into it. I respond with equal fervor, my fingers tangling in his hair as I press myself closer to him.
When we finally break apart, both breathless, Grayson rests his forehead against mine. "Skylar," he says, his voice husky with emotion. "We shouldn't... I'm your boss. This is?—"
I silence him with another kiss, softer this time. "Don't," I whisper against his lips. "Don't push me away, Grayson. Not now."
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine in the dim light. I can see the conflict warring within him—desire versus duty, longing versus fear.
"I'm not good for you," he says, but his arms tighten around me, belying his words. "I'm broken, Skylar. Damaged goods."
I reach up, tracing the scar that runs along his jawline. "We're all a little broken," I tell him softly. "But maybe... maybe we can help put each other back together."
For a long moment, he's silent, and I fear I've said too much, pushed too hard. But then he lets out a shaky breath, leaning his forehead against mine.
"You make me want to try," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "God help me, Skylar, but you make me want to risk everything."
This time, it's Grayson who initiates the kiss. It's deep and passionate, filled with all the longing and fear and hope that's been building between us. I melt into him, my body molding against his as if we were made to fit together.
Outside, the storm continues to rage, but in here, in this small tent on the side of Fire Mountain, we've found our own kind of shelter. As Grayson's hands begin to explore, sending shivers of pleasure through me, I know that whatever happens next, nothing will ever be the same.
His hands explore every inch of my body, igniting a fiery sensation within me. I crave his touch, the way he makes me feel alive. His lips meet mine once again and I surrender completely to him, lost in him.
He makes light work of undoing my bra and he helps me out of my panties. “Skylar,” he says thickly. “Lie down, I want to taste you.”
My body shivers at the hungry look in his eyes. I lie down on his sleeping bag, leaning up on my elbows as I look down at him. His head goes between my legs, and I gasp when his tongue swipes against my folds.
God, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve felt something so amazing.
“Mmmm,” he groans low in his throat. “Delicious just as I knew you’d be.”
I throw my head back as he licks, sucks, and finger fucks my pussy. I’m barely able to hold on, my entire body alight with fire, the need to feel him inside of me is strong. I’ve never needed anyone the way I need Grayson right now. I’m whimpering, trying my hardest to keep the moans and whimpers to a minimum, not wanting anyone to hear us.
“Grayson, please,” I plead with him. “I need you.”
He doesn’t respond, instead, he pushes another finger inside of me. I gasp, he’s stretching me.
“Come for me, Skylar,” he instructs. “I want to feel you come.”
My back bows, my fingers clench the sleeping bag and I cry out as my orgasm topples over me. His name is a strangled cry.
Grayson positions himself between my legs, his cock rubbing against my folds, causing me to groan. I look up at him, his muscles taut, his hands on my hips, and his eyes dark with need. “Please,” I whisper to him.
“Sky,” he snarls as he thrusts deep inside of me. I cling to him as I cry out, his cock stretching my pussy as I try to get used to his thickness.
“Gray,” I whimper, needing him to move.
Thankfully he moves, slowly pulling out of me before he thrusts back in. The rhythm is agonizingly slow. “Christ, you feel so fucking good.”
“Please,” I moan, clawing at his back.
His thrusts get deeper, faster, harder and I fuck him back, unable to stop myself, I’m so lost in the pleasure, so caught up in the intensity of what I’m feeling that I’m fucking him without a care.
His lips descend on mine, and he kisses the breath from me, his tongue tangling with mine. I return it. The passion is something that I never could have expected, but then again, Grayson is a man of little words. He’s so different than I had thought.
He tears his mouth away from mine and rains kisses along my neck. I gasp, my fingers clawing at his back as we continue to fuck. When his mouth moves down my neck and he pulls my nipple into his mouth, I wince in pain, biting back the pained cry.
“Gray,” I whisper as I feel my orgasm rising. “I’m so close,” I breathe.
He releases my nipple, his hands on my hips tighten, he pivots his hips and fucks me even harder. I’m so damn close.
“Come for me, Sky,” he growls as he tilts his hips and fucks me harder and deeper.
My orgasm hits me like a tornado sweeping through my body and I cry out, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as my legs shake around his hips.
He grits his teeth, his eyes on me, and he pistons into me a few more times before burying himself deep, shoving his head into my neck and groaning long and hard.
I hold onto him, not ready for us to lose this connection.
But I’m worried about what will happen next. He’s my boss and I’m his employee. Tonight was never on the cards, now I’m scared about the aftermath.