29. Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Lucy
L ucy froze as Jonathan let out a shout of agony.
Oh, god. Oh, god! I broke him.
She held her breath, too terrified to move a muscle. Jonathan’s hands sprung from her like he’d touched a hot iron then flew to his lower back. Eyes tight, face contorted in pain, he held as still as possible. They sat there in a stalemate.
Lucy braved a slow exhalation. Her heart thundered in her chest, acutely aware of the lingering ache of desire in her low belly.
“Jonathan?” she asked just above a whisper.
He let out a grunt, acknowledging that she’d spoken. Aside from shallow, ragged breaths, he made no other sound.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Off,” he ground out.
Lucy nodded emphatically. “Yeah, ok, I can do that.”
“ Carefully .” Then as though remembering himself and the situation, he added gently, “Please.”
Slowly—oh, so slowly—she shifted to one side so her right foot settled flat on the ground. Performing painstakingly cautious movements, she dismounted her—once again—incapacitated guide.
Crouched beside him, she went to lay a hand on his shoulder but thought better of it and wrung her hands together instead.
“How can I help you?” she asked .
Lucy looked Jonathan up and down. He’d opened his eyes and trained them on the fire. A few level breaths hinted that the pain was steadily receding. Thankfully. The rigidness of his spine softened. Releasing one hand from his back, he leaned forward and rested a forearm on his knee. His light brown hair—or was it dark blond?—shone golden in the firelight. The hard lines of his jaw tensed and released. Long lashes splayed out on his strong cheekbones with each lazy blink. Holy hell, he was sexy.
Focus, lady!
She needed her mind to stay on task and handle the current issue: help Jonathan. She could unpack what happened—whatever that was—later. Like how he was built out of solid, functional muscle, painted with that positively lickable landscape of a mountain range—was it the Cascades?—along his chest and arm. And how he touched and kissed her like a man starved. Or how his multiday dusting of stubble tickled across her skin. The rough against soft sent pleasure twisting from her bare breasts down to her . . .
Ohmygod!
Suddenly, Lucy shot to a stand, realizing she was still topless, and let out an embarrassed squawk. Both arms flew up to cover her exposed skin. Flames seared up her neck and engulfed her face. She compulsively turned away despite feeling silly at her knee-jerk modesty in light of what had happened minutes before.
Jonathan’s deep rumble of laughter caught her off guard. “Here, ow .” The groan of discomfort was quickly replaced with another sultry chuckle.
Lucy peeked over her shoulder. The magenta bra hung from his outstretched fingertips. Without turning, she shuffled nearer and snatched it away. Once her girls were holstered, she felt comfortable turning back around.
A sleepy grin played across Jonathan’s handsome face as he looked up at her. His chest rose and fell at a relaxed and steady pace. Relieved his discomfort had receded, she returned the grin.
“Are you all right?” He seemed to be, but she wanted to be sure he wasn’t just toughing it out.
“I’ll survive,” he replied.
Lucy picked up her shirt and wiggled back into it. She grabbed his and moved to help him put it on, but Jonathan raised a hand to halt her attempt.
“We should probably get some rest. No need for a fresh shirt. I’d rather save it for tomorrow.” He prepared to stand with a hand on either knee, and Lucy stepped quickly to his side to assist. Once she settled him in the hammock, she shuffled around, cleaned up the campsite before crawling in after him and zipped up for the night.
It was a while before either of them spoke. She thought Jonathan had fallen asleep until his silky baritone voice drifted over to her. “We should talk.”
It wasn’t a request.
And he wasn’t wrong.
They needed to discuss what happened. Their make-out session was . . . it was . . . wow. Lucy could still feel the ache of the orgasm that slipped away. You’d think gyrating around on a man so hard that he reinjures his back would have a cooling effect, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. The lingering thrum of excitement teased her nerve endings, and the tenderness of her lips and nipples prompted vivid flashbacks of Jonathan’s not-quite-a-beard-yet stubble dragging across her sensitive flesh. She could nearly feel the way his rigidity dragged against her core with every fluid thrust. His mumbles and groans lit a fire in her that she could never recall experiencing with her ex.
As she had prepared camp for the night, there’d been ample time for her overactive brain to analyze and reanalyze the situation. Regardless of how she attempted to construct the logic, one thing remained glaringly clear: She wanted more.
More touching.
More kissing.
More of Jonathan.
But with considerably less back pain.
Unfortunately, the inflection in his voice didn’t exactly hint at his enthusiasm to repeat their sexy encounter. Those three little words, we should talk, filled Lucy with disappointment. Beyond that, an unsettling flush of embarrassment began to take hold. Had she misinterpreted his signals?
It’s been agony keeping my hands off you.
No.
His intentions couldn’t have been clearer.
Which meant he’d had a change of heart. He wasn’t interested in what she had to offer. He’d sampled her wares and wouldn’t be placing an order. Ouch. Whatever. Despite the immediate sting, she’d survive.
“Lucy,” he pressed with some impatience.
“I’m listening,” she submitted.
Jonathan cleared his throat a few times then croaked, “That wasn’t . . . I don’t want you to think . . . I don’t normally . . . you see, my business is . . .”
Oh boy, was he struggling with this. She could have laughed—and would have too—if he hadn’t been figuring out a way to let her down easily.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to. I get it.” She tried to give him an out. Already feeling a twinge of regret for her brazen behavior, in part because she was still stupidly horny from being tripped at the finish line, she didn’t want a heaping scoop of rejection plopped on top.
“Wait, let me explain— ”
“You really don’t need to,” she implored. “We got carried away. It’s not a big deal.”
“That’s just it. This whole thing is a very big deal. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not attracted to you because that would be childish. You are incredible, Lucy. Tough and beautiful and fun.”
“But?”
“But we’re in this dangerous situation, we barely survived a landslide, our rations are dwindling, my focus should be on getting you back to town safely, not taking advantage of you.”
Lucy snorted.
“What?” His tone was the vocal equivalent of planting his hands on his hips.
“You act as though I wasn’t a willing participant.” Lucy felt suddenly cranky. “Do you know how condescending that is?”
“Condescending?”
“Yes. I’m a goddamn adult. You even asked me if I was into it, which, if you hadn’t noticed from the nudity, I totally was.”
“It’s just that—”
“Also,” she interrupted, “taking advantage of me? Come on. If anything, I was the aggressor. You gave me the green light and I was all over you like gum on a shoe. And tell me something. What was I doing on your lap when your back spasmed again?”
A strangled choke came out of Jonathan’s mouth before he finally muttered, “You were shifting against my—”
“I was dry humping you, Jonathan. Dry humping. Say it.”
“Uh. You were dry humping me.”
“Exactly. So how could you possibly be taking advantage of a woman who was actively dry humping you?”
“I guess I can’t?”
“Thank you.”
Both voices fell away, and silence hung heavily until Jonathan croaked out a laugh. Lucy was helpless not to follow and chuckled as well.
“I don’t think I’ve said dry hump since high school.” He snickered, shaking the entire hammock with his mirth.
“Same,” Lucy managed through breathy cackles. “I made that weird.”
“Yup. Sure did.”
She swatted his thigh as the laughter filling the tight space dissipated. “But you get my point? The attraction is mutual.”
“Lucy,” he said with heft.
“No, I know, I know.” She held up both hands, though in the dim, she doubted he could see the gesture. “I get it. It’s bad timing for me too. Just got out of a long-term relationship, remember?”
“And I need to think about the reputation of my business.”
“Ok, so we agree. Sex is not the best idea for us.”
His sigh was so heavy that she thought for a moment he’d backtrack until he said, “Agreed.”
Silence once again filled the stuffy cocoon.
Lucy startled when Jonathan’s warm hand slid under her heel and lifted her foot to his chest. “What are you— Ooooh . . .” Her words cut off as his thumbs massaged the arch of her aching feet. “You really . . . oh yeahhh . . . don’t . . . mmm . . . have to do that?” Why did that come out as a question? Whatever, she just hoped he would continue anyway.
Blessedly, he did.
“You did so much for me today. I know this doesn’t begin to repay your efforts. It’s barely a blip on the radar—”
His ministrations were exactly what she needed to refill her bucket.
“—But I want you to know I appreciate you, Lucy,” he finished, voice heavy.
Eyes rolled back, Lucy sighed. “You’re welcome.”
Laughter rumbled through his chest under the weight of her foot. He rubbed and squeezed, even working his way to her tired calf. After a few more minutes, he switched to her other foot and repeated the process.
Lucy slowly sunk into relaxed oblivion, unable to thank Jonathan because she was fast asleep before he’d finished. Her mother would have been appalled at her lack of manners.