Chapter Five
Nightfall
Jameson Bishop
The cabin door shuts behind us with a hollow thud, and the sound settles in my bones like a warning.
It’s small. Too small for the two of us. Ive spent the entire day in her presence, and I am already grinding my teeth hard enough to crack my jaw.
One bed. One shower. One room. And Rachel.
All the ways I could imagine us being together, I never believed it was a possibility and now my mind is running wild.
Trying and failing to not watch the way her body moves, the shape of her curves, I get distracted.
I stand there for a moment, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light. Justin Roche’s belongings are still scattered around.. It feels wrong to be here. Like we’re trespassing in a life that ended abruptly.
But we don’t know he’s dead yet.
Rachel moves past me, brushing my arm, and the thoughts I have been burying all day of tearing off her clothes and getting rough and dirty are running rampant. The things I want to do to her….
The fact that we are no longer in a professional setting is fucking with my head. I need to get a handle on this.
She is basically a child. She is the same age as my child. She is an employee. I absolutely cannot fuck her. I can’t pin her down and.. No. I am not thinking about this.
Having no idea the dark turn my thoughts have taken, she sets her bag down and surveys the space.
“Cozy,” she mutters.
“Claustrophobic,” I counter darkly.
She shoots me a look. “You’ll survive.”
I’m not so sure. Not with her this close.
Not with the tension already coiling tight between us. Not with the way she I can smell her from across the room.
I clear my throat and focus on the case. “Roche’s car is still missing.”
Rachel nods, her expression shifting into professional mode. “Which means if we find it, we may find him.”
We spend the next hour going over the details, maps across the table, pointing out the locations Justin was looking into. Planning for where we want to start in the morning. Finding Justin is our priority.
Rachel pulls off her jacket and sits on the edge of the bed, the only bed, rubbing her hands together for warmth. Her figure now that the jacket is off, is on full display.
I try not to look at her. I fail again.
She glances up. “You can take the bed.”
“No.”
“Bishop-”
“I said no.”
She sighs, annoyed. “Fine. We’ll figure it out.”
We don’t. We just stand there, staring at the bed like it’s a bomb we’re both afraid to touch.
The silence stretches.
She finally breaks it. “You’re tense.”
“You’re observant.” I snap sarcastically. Im not trying to be a grade A asshole. Im not. But I absolutely am being one.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I know my limits; I know realistically what I am capable of withstanding. I cannot be in the same bed as her, and I will not allow her to sleep on the floor.
She studies me for a long moment, her expression softening in a way that makes my chest tighten. “You’re worried about Rourke.”
I nod once. But that’s not it at all. It should be all Im worried about. But it’s the least of my worries at the moment.
“And you’re worried about me,” she adds quietly.
I look away. “I shouldn’t have let you come.” It’s the truest and safest reply I can give her. She will see through any lie. And that is not a safe topic.
“You didn’t let me,” she says, aggravation creeping into her tone. “I came.”
That’s the problem. She came. And now she’s here. And now I’m stuck in a cabin with her, with one bed, one shower, and no space between us.
She stands, stepping closer. Too close. “We’ll find him,” she says. “We’ll figure out what’s out there.”
Her confidence is steady. But she doesn’t understand why I am struggling. I step back before I do something I shouldn’t.
“Get some rest,” I say. “We start at dawn.”
She nods, but her eyes linger on me.
I can’t do this. Not here. Not now. Not ever. I cannot cross this line with her. As much as I want to.
Grabbing my bag I head to the shower to clean up and jack off so I don’t do something stupid. Like offer to fuck her stupid.
Stepping in to the hot spray is a relief on my muscles that have been tense since the flight began. Heaving a deep breath I try to focus, to hold back. But I already know I am going to lose the fight and grip my hard pulsing cock.
Fuck.
Shifting my grip I frantically pump myself harshly, breathing through my nose and leaning against the shower wall.
I close my eyes, the pleasure builds and I think of all the things that I want to do to that woman. Years of watching her, wanting her, the urge never seems to dull.
Stroking myself in hard rhythmic pulls I pant, imagining laying her out and burying myself in her hot wet pussy.
The sounds she would make as I edged her for hours.
Her screams as I forced orgasm after orgasm to the surface.
Just picturing her face and the ecstasy and torment brings my own climax to the surface, and I grunt quietly as I come.
Dissatisfied that this is the only way Ill get to have her. In my head.
I take the floor; she takes the bed.
Something is out there besides the general wildlife. And if Im right, it’s a specific type of killer. Keeping an eye on her is going to be necessary.
And as I lie there, staring at the ceiling, listening to Rachel breathe softly above me, I know one thing with absolute certainty. Whatever’s waiting in those mountains… It’s not the only thing I’m afraid of.