“We change the rules, for now, just for as long as we’re here, in the jungle. And when we get home, I get my job back and we become strictly professional with each other again.”
Yes. The affirmative was there, on the tip of his tongue. It was an urgent need in him to say whatever she wanted him to say, so that he could have her and have her now. He managed, somehow, not to let that yes out. “You really think that’s possible, to go back? In my experience, it never works.”
“I intend to make it work. I will make it work.”
He found that he believed her, as he believed they would get back to San Antonio. She was an extraordinary woman and if she said she could do a thing, who was he, a mere man, to doubt her? “I’m not going to be able to keep arguing about this, Zoe. I don’t want to argue. I want to get in that tent with you and kiss every inch of you.”
Her mouth trembled. And her eyes were dark right then, dark and as full of secrets as the night itself. “So don’t argue.”
“I have one more question.”
“Ask.”
“Johnny?”
She laughed, then, a low, throaty, knowing sound. “There is no Johnny.”
“I knew it.”
“I knew you knew. And now I have a question.”
“Name it.”
“Did you bring condoms with you?”
“I always have condoms with me.”
She almost smiled at that—but not quite. “Well, all right, then.” She swept upward, out of the chair, and stood above him, holding down her hand.
He looked up at her and knew he would never forget the sight of her at that moment, of her red hair haloed in firelight, her blue eyes shadowed, full of hot promises that he fully intended to make her keep.
Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking one more time, “You’re sure?”
“Take my hand, Dax. Let’s go to bed.”
Zoe didn’t doubt herself, didn’t second-guess. The course was set. She would follow it.
She would glory in it.
When he reached up his lean hand to her, she took it, grasped it tight, helped pull him up, helped steady him on his good foot. He touched her face with his other hand, traced her brows, followed the curve of her cheek.
And then he kissed her.
It was a slow, tender, exploratory kiss. She lifted her mouth to him and let him take the lead, drinking in the scent of him: clean sweat, insect repellent—and a hint of plumeria from her shampoo. And something else, something heady and manly and totally wonderful. Something that was every good smell in the world, all rolled into one. A one-of-a-kind scent that almost had her believing in those “special” pheromones of his that Lin was always going on about. He smelled of chocolate and sugar cookies fresh from the oven. Of toasted pecans. Oh, she definitely wanted to eat him right up.
He ran his tongue along the seam where her lips met and she let him in.
That was when he wrapped his big arms around her and pulled her close to his hard, strong chest. The fire bathed them in its red glow, sending up sparks to the velvety night. Off in the darkness, she heard the jungle sounds, the screams of predators, the calls of nightbirds, the endless rustling of creatures that crept close to the ground.
She smiled against his mouth, eased her hands around his tight waist, reveled in the feel of him, pressed so close with passionate intent. At last.
In time, he lifted his head and looked down at her through those glorious, lazy bedroom eyes.
She said, “When you were so sick, when you were shaking with fever, shivering with cold at the same time, I used to lie down with you.”
“I remember. I was so grateful. Comforted.”
“It was a comfort to me, too—and a tight fit on those seats.”
A smile tipped on a corner of his beautiful mouth. “But you made it work.”
“Hmm.” She lifted on tiptoe.
He took the hint and lowered his head to her again.
She claimed his lips eagerly, hungrily. When he held her and kissed her, it all made sense, somehow. That they were here, miles from home, constantly in danger but together.
In every way.
For a long while, they simply stood there by the fire, kissing, whispering to each other, kissing some more.
Yes, she felt an urgency to take the pleasure farther, faster. She sensed that he did, too.
But there was a certain joy, a delicious thrill, in denying the urgency, in taking their time.
His hardness pressed into her belly, making promises that they both knew would be kept, and kept that night. Her body thrummed with excitement, her breasts ached for his caress. And below, she was heavy. Liquid with yearning, with hot expectation.
And they went on kissing even longer.
In time, he released her. They didn’t need words. She banked the fire. They each made a final trip into the shadows. They washed their hands and faces, brushed their teeth. He got the condoms from a suitcase and she collected the blanket and pillow that remained in the plane.
And then, at last, they entered the tent.
He undressed her first. Each time she tried to get something of his off, he gently pushed her eager hands away.
And eventually, she surrendered. After days of always having to be in control and on guard, it was a revelation, a sweet and voluptuous relief, to lie back on the pillows. To let him bring pleasure to her.
Like the kissing by the fire, he took his time about it. Starting with her shoes and socks, he worked his way up her body, kissing and caressing as he peeled away her clothing, revealing all her secrets.
She was only too happy to be revealed. It was exactly what she wanted, and just the way she wanted it. His tongue was magic, his fingers knew the perfect way to touch her. To stroke her.
Halfway up her body, he lingered. She still had on her shirt and bra when he dipped his tongue into the well of her navel, when he kissed every inch of her belly.
And lower.
He touched the chestnut curls and she opened her legs for him. He whispered how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her, how the taste of her was so sweet, even better than he had dreamed in his constant fantasies of her.
“Constant?” That sounded really good.
“Yes. As in continuous. As in you’ve made me crazy …”
“Crazy. Good. That’s very good.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I knew you’d think so.” He lowered his head to her, his fingers gently parting her secret flesh. “So beautiful. So slick and hot and wet …” And then his mouth was there, doing things. Wonderful things.
She groaned and clutched his head and pleaded, “Yes, oh! Right there. Oh, Dax….”
He knew just what to do, to make the ecstasy last. He found the right spot and he played it. She would rise, eager, urgent, reaching for the finish.
And then he would ease off, go slower. The waterfall’s edge of her building climax would retreat.
She begged him. She was shameless.