Off the Grid

“Then we need to feed you more, ’cause your frame is just fine the way it is.”

She blinked. Did he just compliment me?

“Come on.” He dumped his coffee on the fire and held out his hand. She took it. Sparks traveled up her arm and she shivered.

“Cold?”

“Just a chill from the wind, you know how that is.”

He peered down at her. “Yeah, I know.” His voice deepened, and his hands skimmed down her arms. Goose bumps formed over her flesh, despite the navy blue thermal shirt and thick sweater. They were a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate. The man was so virile it made her ache. The stubble that lined his jaw did nothing to help her think rationally. She wanted to know what his lips would taste like, and how his hair would feel under her fingertips. Every time a lock fell across his forehead, it was a struggle not to brush it away.

A funny thing happened when you were all alone with someone in the woods. You became incredibly close and familiar with one another in a short amount of time. It was an intense intimacy she’d never felt with another being. Forged over incredible sunrises, nights by the fire, and the beauty of nature it felt special and poignant. They could read one another. He hefted her backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and took her hand.

Fingers laced, they made the trek to the cabin in a comfortable silence as their status quo shifted. Thorn didn’t seem like a casual toucher. Everything he did had purpose. Which left her wondering what that meant for them.

“Ladies first,” he said as he gestured toward the shower.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He set the pack down beside the door, and she pulled it over by the shower, removing items until she reached the clothing packed in the center. She quickly rifled through her options, pulling out what she needed. Modesty had gone out the window ages ago. They were in a small space with little to no privacy. Hell, they peed in the woods, dug trenches for their poop and buried it. There was no such thing as dignity, simply necessity, and natural bodily functions. It took the awkwardness out of things. She carried her clothing, body wash, and shampoo. Setting the clothing on the railing, she stripped down, bagged the dirty clothing, and carefully placed it outside of the shower stall. After unbraiding her hair, she turned on the water.

The

warm spray was mana from heaven as it beaded down over her skin, wetting her skin and soaking her hair. She grabbed her shampoo and began to lather up, massaging her scalp. The flowery scent filled the space as she washed away the sweat and grime of the past weeks. Tilting her head back, she put a dollop of clear body wash in her hand. Lathering up, she washed down her arms and chest. She missed the apple scent of her normal bathing products, but knew it was better to not smell like something edible when she’d be sleeping outside.

Moving down her body in circles she thought of Thorn. She shivered. Her flesh bumped as her fingertips skated over full breasts. Her nipples peaked, and her belly tightened. The only thing separating them was two layers of plastic. The knowledge turned her on. What would he do if he heard me? She felt decadent and naughty as she moved her hands down to her belly and soaped up her pussy. Her core pulsed as desire flowed through her blood stream like hot lava. It’d been a long time since she’d been with a man. She bit her lower lip and brushed her clit lightly with her thumb. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back imagining Thorn’s five o’clock shadow brushing against her skin.

She choked back a moan as her hips bucked. I need more friction. It was too late to turn back now; she needed to pull the pressure release valve on what had formed between them. When she pushed two fingers into her tight sheath, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Angling her fingers, she pumped. Nerve endings lit up like a pinball machine inside of her. Tiny whimpers spilled free as her body trembled. This was what she’d been craving as his big frame pressed against her while he demonstrated the proper way to throw a knife. When his large hands engulfed hers while he helped her over slippery terrain. So close. Her walls flexed and the dam broke as she came, hard, gasping his name as she tumbled head first into sweet bliss.

Resting against the wall she rode out the afterglow as the water cleaned her and she let herself deal with the potent attraction that bombarded her from all sides when she interacted with Thorn. Recovered, and slightly embarrassed, she finished her routine, toweled off, and pulled on her clothing. Please tell me he didn’t hear that. Wrapping the dirty T-shirt around her hair to catch the water, she stepped out and found a heavy-lidded Thorn standing a few inches from the shower. Shit.

“It’s all yours,” she said in an attempt to play it cool.

He stepped forward and framed her face. “Is it?”

“Thorn?”

“We both feel this.” He brushed his lips against hers. Want sliced through her like a knife. “Do we act on it?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“I do.” He lowered his head and she lost herself in the slick texture of the tongue stroking the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. She opened and he eased inside, bringing his flavor. He was a rustic coffee-flavored treat. His musky sandalwood and forest scent surrounded her, making her knees weak. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting go of the apprehension that held her back. Tilting their heads, they deepened the kiss, nipping and sucking.

She buried her fingers in his soft hair, scraping his scalp with her nails. He groaned and pulled her closer as they surfaced for air.

She rested her head on his chest, enjoying the way he surrounded her. At five foot eleven, she was usually about the same height as most men she’d dated.

“You taste even better than I thought you would,” he rasped.

“So do you,” she whispered.

“What are we going to do?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted.