Chapter Eleven #3
She remembered Side-eye and Saber. “The bear wouldn’t hurt the horses, would it?”
“The horses are long gone. Side-eye took off for the ranch. Saber is on his way back to Burning Scrub and the stable. Which means someone will be out looking for us any time now. We should get back to the trail.”
But he didn’t move from where they sat, facing each other, knee to knee. His fingertips grazed her cheek. He was looking at her as if she were special, and as if he might kiss her, and Malika forgot all about how unfortunate her eyes must appear.
“You really were amazing. I’ve never seen a woman so brave,” he said.
“Not even Tilly?”
She admired Tilly. It would be so wonderful if he thought Malika were braver.
“Tilly would have fed the scientist to the bear if it gave her a chance to escape. So would most men.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” Malika said it with every ounce of the conviction she felt.
Jayce was handsome and perfect and brave.
He thought she was brave, too.
He deserved a reward for having such confidence in her. She wasn’t raising expectations if they were both swept up in the heat of the moment. A case could be made that he had raised hers. If he wouldn’t kiss her, then she would be forced to kiss him.
She didn’t have to. He leaned forward, and his mouth covered hers.
She braced her hands on his thighs, and goodness, her sisters had omitted a few crucial details about how wonderful it felt to be touched by a man.
And Jayce liked to touch as he kissed, first her face, his warm fingertips caressing her cheeks.
He gradually worked his way lower. He trailed his fingers over her throat, then traced the length of her collarbone, before sliding his hands under her shirt and exploring the tingling bare flesh of her shoulders.
The rasp of his rough fingertips on her skin sent sharp darts of lust straight to the pit of her belly, where they then parted ways and shot to her toes.
She inched her hands higher along the length of his thighs, her thumbs brushing the insides.
If he could touch, then she could touch too.
Unfortunately, everything her sisters had spoken of regarding such matters had flown from her head, and she was forced to rely on her instincts.
She reached the crease where his thighs attached to his body, and her thumbs encountered an intriguing mass of resistance under the denim that made him groan encouragement against her lips as she explored it with her palm and her fingers.
She knew what a man’s penis looked like.
She watched HBO. How fascinating it felt to the touch was a different experience.
Soft, yet also hard. Very hard. And while her sisters might have neglected to mention the wonders of kissing, or how amazing it felt to be fondled and stroked, they’d been very thorough in explaining the wonderful things a man’s penis could do.
This was an opportunity not to be missed.
Undressing slowly so he could watch seemed of far less importance than exploring his wonderful manhood.
Her fingertips mounted the fly of his jeans, counting the buttons like steps until she reached the top floor.
She fumbled the first button free. His hands, caressing her breasts under her shirt, tightened enough to be thrilling, letting her know that he liked what was happening as much as she did.
Something thrashed about in the bushes.
Malika threw her arms around Jayce’s neck and scrambled into his lap, his wonderful penis forgotten. She might not like being afraid, but she’d faced enough fear for one day. Let him deal with the next round.
The researcher fought clear of the scrub. “Phew! That was close. But good news. I got some fantastic pictures. You both okay?”
Jayce’s face turned a dull red. He peeled Malika’s arms away from his neck, rose, strode up to the man, then drew his fist back and punched him in the mouth. The researcher staggered, both hands cupping his face, and doubled over.
Jayce shook his fingers. “Quit being a sissy. I didn’t hit you as hard as you deserve. You left a woman to fight off a bear alone, you little coward.”
“She was fine. She had bear spray. There’s no need for violence,” the researcher said. His lips were already swelling, and the words came out slurred.
“Pack up your camp and get out.”
The researcher straightened and dabbed at the blood on his lower lip with the heel of his wrist.
Then, he showed his first hint of spine. “Now just hold on a minute. You don’t own these mountains.”
“I own the access road in. And the local fish and game warden is a close friend of the family. You have three fishing rods in use. A fishing license permits one rod per person. Do you have a fishing license on you?”
“Of course I do.”
Even Malika could see that he was lying, and she was partially blind.
Jayce’s expression turned hard as stone. “I’ll be back this way tomorrow, and if you’re still around, we’re going to continue this conversation. The next round won’t be as pleasant.”
“Montanans are mean,” the researcher said.