Rapture (Renegades 7)

The whine of machinery overhead sounded just before the cables’ brakes kicked on, slowing them until their descent ended with a soft jerk.

For a long second, neither of them moved. They swayed gently midair, still fifty feet from the ground. His arms were doubled around her, his breathing quick and choppy, his body strung wire tight.

Zahara felt cocooned in his arms, oddly comfortable and safe. Strangely content. Maybe even a little euphoric. She would have pushed anyone else away by now. But she took the moment, closed her eyes, and breathed him in. He smelled so male, so virile, so…alive.

“Holy. Fuck.” Chase’s voice was low and filled with awe, his head still resting against hers. “What a rush.”

Zahara could say the same, though she’d be talking about the feel of his body against hers, not the stunt. Chest to chest, belly to belly, thighs tangled, she got an up-close-and-personal experience of a body she’d only admired from a distance until now. And her own body swam with dizzying desire.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forced her mind to work. “Don’t get any wild ideas.” She sounded breathless. “This job is mine.”

Chase lifted his head and looked into her eyes, his gaze a mix of amazement and affection. He wrapped one thick thigh around her legs, unwound his arms from her body and cradled her face in both hands. “Baby, I’ve got all kinds of wild ideas. But they don’t involve your job.”

Her heart thundered, knocking directly against his. The thrill of the stunt still burned a path through Zahara’s soul. She felt free and invincible and, in Chase’s arms like this, maybe even a little wild. But her fierce need for security had been ingrained too early and too often for her to throw vigilance to the wind now.

Chase’s sparkling blue gaze lowered to her lips.

Zahara’s heart tripped. “Don’t even think about letting those wild ideas loose, Layton. We’ve still got at least a dozen pairs of eyes on us.”

“Mmm.” His lazy, lusty gaze slid back to hers with a smile to match. “Sounds like we’re on the same page.”

“Not only are we not on the same page,” Zahara told him, “we’re not even in the same book. Hell, we’re not even in the same library.”

He laughed, a low rumble that trembled through Zahara’s body like a quake. She squirmed out of the hold and gave him a shove, sending him into a swing on his own. Cool air hit all the places he’d been warming. Zahara’s lungs unlocked, and she dragged in a breath of relief. Disaster averted.

“Hey, now.” Arms out, he let himself swing freely. “Was that nice?”

She wrapped her fingers around her cable and glanced up at the cameraman, who was already watching the playback on the screen.

Chase pushed off the cliff wall with one foot, swinging closer to Zahara. He made a swipe for her, but she dodged him, laughing. When he reached the cliff wall again, he gave himself another push. This time, he managed to hook a finger into her harness and dragged her along as they swayed back to center. There, he wrapped his legs around hers again.

She put a hand against his chest and gave him a too-many-eyes “Chase.”

He ignored her, sliding his hand down her arm before threading their fingers. But he was looking up at the cameraman. “Is it good, Donny?”

“Freaking amazing.”

“I knew it would be,” Chase said, turning his pleased grin on Zahara and lowering his voice. “We’ve been freaking amazing from the beginning.”

“Donny,” one of the crew yelled over the side. “You’re coming up first.”

He gave Zahara and Chase a salute. “See you at the top.”

The cameraman was reeled in, and any crew looking over the edge above disappeared from view.

Now, she was alone with Chase. Trapped. No way out. Not until it was their turn to be reeled in.

Part of her didn’t want a way out. But another part knew she needed one. And fast. Before she did something stupid, like giving in to this nuclear chemistry. One she’d been able to keep under control while they’d been filming together.

But now, as they hung there, face-to-face, limbs tangled, she realized that while she might have kept the physical intimacy at bay, their emotional intimacy had soared. They’d become friends. Good friends. Great friends. The kind of friends who confided in each other. The kind who rooted for each other. The kind who could talk without speaking.

If she were honest, the thought of wrapping this film and not seeing him tomorrow or the next day or the next broke her heart.

“Uh-uh.” Chase cupped her jaw. His other hand tightened on hers. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Scheming to get rid of me.”