CHAPTER TEN
Jonah
I want to continue kissing Evangeline for the foreseeable future. I can’t.
After using a long stick to retrieve the water jug, I fill it and usher Angel back to the cabin. We step inside and already it’s warmer. I treat the water and set it on the shelf. She pulls the first-aid kit from her backpack.
“You need out of your wet clothes.”
She shakes her head and points to the chair. “You first.”
With my hand dripping blood, it’s doubtful I’ll win the argument so I pull a chair in front of the window and sit. She opens the kit, snapping on gloves and tearing open a package of gauze. Doubling a stack of the pads, she presses them firmly to the wound. “Hold this. Firm pressure.”
I do as directed, leaning back in the seat to watch her with half-closed eyes. The cut is deep and hurts like hell, but she knows what she’s doing. Having her close settles me.
After irrigating it as best she can with water and swabbing on betadine, she applies a large Band-Aid over a clean gauze pad. “There. That’ll have to do for now.”
“It’s fine. Thanks, Angel.” I don’t miss the occasional shiver, and her fingers that are cold to the touch. I retrieve my backpack and dig around. I hold up two square packets.
She raises her eyebrows. “Mylar emergency blankets?”
I nod. “You wearing a good base layer?” When she nods, I say, “Strip down to the base layer and I’ll wrap you in a mylar blanket.”
“If I’m stripping to wrap myself in one of those, you are too. You’re as wet as I am.”
“I’ll get to it, but you’re shivering and I’m not.”
There’s no time for modesty. Angel knows it’s important to get warm. Back turned to give her privacy, I open the packaging and unfold the blanket.
When I turn around, she has her arms crossed firmly over her breasts.
The snug base layer clings to the gentle curves of her long athletic body and doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
I wrap the crinkly blanket around her shoulders, and she ties the corners under her chin so she’s wearing it like a cape.
Small teardrop breasts and erect nipples are outlined by stretchy white nylon.
She’s not wearing a bra and she’s fucking perfect.
I don’t think it’s my imagination that the tension between us pegs over to the danger zone.
Ignoring it, I grab a ball of nylon cord from the shelf and stretch it across a corner of the room as a clothesline. She gets busy hanging her wet things while I shed my clothes and make my own mylar cape, adjusting it because she doesn’t need to see my reaction to her.
The light is falling fast and I focus on preparing for the night ahead.
With the position of the cabin, I’m not as worried about Abel and Denny sneaking up on us.
I hang my clothes next to Angel’s on the line and retrieve the lanterns from the shelf.
One has kerosene and I manage to light it.
Next, I pry open the lids on the bins. “Hell yeah.” I hold up a blanket.
“Tell me that’s wool,” she says.
“It is, and there are two of them.” I pull a chair close to the stove. “Sit and I’ll wrap it around you.”
“I’ll need to help figure out dinner.”
“I’ll take care of dinner. You get warm.”
She rolls her eyes but sits. I tuck the wool blanket snugly around her and give her an assessing look. Her color is better and the shivering has stopped. I straighten to step back and she puts a hand on my arm.
“I never thanked you.”
“For what?”
“For coming after me.” Her thumb rubs back and forth.
“You saved me. I wasn’t defenseless, but there were two of them and things could have gone much worse.
” She raises her gaze to mine. “Abel shot at me and I was trying not to freak out, but I was scared. Then you were there and I knew I was safe. I haven’t been scared since.
Not once.” She swallows. “So thank you.”
I bend my face to hers, my fingers lingering as I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. My voice is gravelly when I say, “I will always protect you. Without hesitation. Every time.”
We kiss, quick and potent, then I force myself to let her go.
It’s slim pickings in the food department. No chili, no biscuit mix, no Spam. There’s canned soup and a couple of protein bars—all expired over two years ago. Still good as far as I’m concerned.
The room is warm enough I tie the emergency blanket around my waist.
With no cooking pots, I open the cans and set them directly on the stove, then use the hem of my shirt to wipe clean the two spoons I find.
I glance up to find her staring, attention riveted on the strip of exposed skin. Her gaze travels up my chest, and I see her throat bob when she swallows. I’m glad the blanket hides my lower half. The room is suddenly too warm.
We eat our soup straight from the cans, keeping the bars for breakfast.
After dinner, we use the flashlight from my pack and make use of the outhouse.
Back in the cabin, I work to make us secure.
The firearms are ready. The door latch is weak so I wedge a couple splinters of wood under the door.
It’s the best I can do to slow someone down; not much, but better than nothing.
After moving the water, I make up the bed on the platform in layers: the mylar blanket laid flat and a wool blanket for the bottom, and the other wool blanket on top. I’ll add Angel’s mylar blanket if we need it.
I check to make sure the rifle is fully loaded. When I turn to lean it against the wall, Angel is standing next to the makeshift bed. “Are we keeping watch?”
I shake my head. “It’s dark as sin out there and I don’t see Abel or Denny moving around in it. They’ve been up here as long as we have and with fewer resources. My bet is they’re about tapped out. You and I need sleep and that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Together on what is essentially a twin-size bed.”
“It’s the smartest way for us to stay warm. I can keep my hands to myself.” I raise my brows. “Can you?”
“Probably.”
Not that keeping my hands off her is an easy task. Angel’s on her side with her back to me. I’m lying on my back with my head resting on my mostly dry rolled-up shirt, trying to will my aching erection into submission.
Luckily, we’re both exhausted. Next time I open my eyes the room is a little less dark.
Angel is cuddled up to my side, arm across my chest, one leg thrown over mine, and her soft breath warm against my neck.
Either I’ve been rock-hard all night, which I’m not sure is healthy, or I’ve been blessed with morning wood that’s raring to go.
Angel stirs, her fingers moving over my chest, and gives a little sigh.
“Angel?”
Her hand glides across my abs. The heat of her touch burns through the thin base layer.
“Hmm?” comes the sleepy response.
“You sure you want this?” I whisper in her ear.
Her hand moves lower, and then it’s there. She wraps her fingers around me and gives a firm pull with a throaty purr that vibrates against my skin. I swear I could come from that alone.
The cut on my hand throbs, neither of us has bathed or brushed our teeth in days, and this is the most uncomfortable bed I’ve ever slept on. But that doesn’t keep me from wanting to make love with her until we both come. Hard.
“You want to be with me, Angel?”
Releasing me, she props herself up, her nod of consent barely perceptible in the dim light. I inhale sharply.
“Maybe I should be asking you,” she murmurs, “since you’re the one who ran scared that first time.”
“Not scared. Responsible.” Which even to my own ears sounds asinine. “I want this. But only if you want it just as bad.”
With a finger she traces my brow, my cheekbones, the line of my jaw. The simple sweetness of her touch leaves me undone.
Leaning forward with her lips a breath from mine, she says, “Oh yeah, Jonah. I want you.”