We looked at each other and so many emotions flitted between us. In Ian’s eyes I read the gravity of the storm that was brewing on our doorstep, selfish disappointment that we couldn’t explore what was going on between us and obvious shame in that he thought of himself when he shouldn’t have been.
I couldn’t blame him because I was thinking the same thing. I grabbed his hand to reassure him that it would happen, that we’d get our day. He smiled softly and that was all the time we allowed to acknowledge that disappointment. We had bigger fish to fry.
The next day and a half was pure chaos. Mercy was the only adult who seemed to be affected unless the virus was still incubating, but that was okay with us just as long as the vaccines came soon. Ian and I spent the next night repeatedly up and down, caring for very ill children, reducing fevers, treating symptoms and working our fingers to the bone in a futile attempt to disinfect.
Every few hours we’d get a new kid. We were running out of fever reducers and saline bags. Our only hope was the shipment and that was arriving later that second evening. We got hold of Pemmy once more and he informed us that I, personally, would have to sign for the shipment at seven.
Karina agreed to help us get the infected children in the best possible place before we left and she would sit with them until Ian and I could get back. In total, we had seven ill children, and four we suspected would eventually become ill. The remaining, we kept as far away as possible.
When we were as prepared as we could possibly get, we made our way to Charles’ truck. Karina had yet to see Ian’s jeep and we wanted to keep it that way. Charles was nervous the news of our attack would send his wife over the edge, so we repaired it as much as we could with what little we had and kept it hidden.
When he started the engine, it was quieter than Ian’s rumbling jeep. I rested the back of my head against the seat and closed my eyes, yawning. When I opened them and peered back at Ian, he laughed.
“You’re exhausted.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
He laughed louder, making my heart sputter. “Irritable when you’re tired, are we?”
I smiled across the seat at him. “Irritable, are we?” I mocked, pathetically attempting his Sith Ifrican accent, which made him laugh even harder.
“Just a bundle of laughs today,” I teased, drawing out my words from sleepiness.
“Well, I’m a bit delirious with the only,” he pitched his brows toward the roof of the jeep, “seven hours of sleep I got in the past two days.”
I yawned loudly at the mere mention of sleep. I leaned my head against the window. “Classes are cancelled for two days after the kids recover. I’m making an executive decision and I’m going to sleep for both of them.”
“As long as I get to sleep with you.”
My eyes bugged from my head. “Pardon?” I asked in disbelief.
nced around my room a little bit frantic. I backed up a bit and stood beside my bed. “Come in.”
Ian tore through the door, the rush of wind snuffing out the candle, and stood looming over me in my small side of the hut. The door swung behind him and shut with a crack, startling me.
And just like that, Ian Aberdeen rushed me.
He grabbed my face and neck with his rough hands and brought me to him, practically lifting me to his lips. He devoured my mouth with his and I moaned into his mouth, spurring him on. His tongue found mine and it was warm and tasted of cinnamon.
A rush of adrenaline spiked through my body and pooled in my belly. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he brought me closer to him, threading his fingers through my hair, rooting his fists at the back of my head, pulling lightly as if it was taking all his control not to throw me down on the bed. This made my eyes roll into the back of my head and I tightened my already closed lids.
He tore his lips from mine and we stood panting, the stars barely shining through the cracks in the door but enough to light up his face. I recognized his painfully strained expression. He didn’t know if what he’d done was okay with me, and I found myself so attracted to him for being so considerate. To reassure him, I ran my hands across his forehead to smooth out the lines.
“Ian,” I whispered before he attacked me again, hushing me on the “n.”
I gripped his shoulders as he harshly kissed my lips then followed my jaw line down my neck, making my head fell back. “Sophie,” he sighed between each kiss, making my toes tingle. His mouth found mine again and I kissed him back hard, breathing him in as best I could. My hands found his hair and I pushed them through the length until they met his neck then climbed back up, entangling my fingers in the damp mass. It felt like I couldn’t get close enough to him. I wrapped one leg around his calf and he groaned into my tongue, vibrating the back of my throat. I shivered.
“Oh, God,” I breathed into his mouth.
He smiled against my teeth and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever felt. “You taste like cherries,” he told me. His voice shivered against my skin, making me smile back.
He rested his forehead against mine. “You taste like cinnamon,” I countered.
He pulled himself away and immediately I hated it. “Goodnight, Sophie Price.”
He backed away from me slowly, never breaking his stare or his smile. He opened the door and let it fall shut again. “Sleep well,” I heard through the cracks.
I brought my fingers to my smiling lips and ran them across the swollen skin. “You too,” I answered so softly I barely heard it myself.