Too peaceful.
Jason couldn’t take the eerie quiet. He whispered, “I’m sorry. For…” Remembering Ben’s arms around him, holding tight and comforting, he tried to find the right words. “For losing my shit and stuff. You were really nice. I hope that wasn’t weird or anything.”
Ben’s exhalation tickled the back of Jason’s neck. “It wasn’t weird.”
His heart skipped, and he shifted again, fiddling with the blanket. “Good thing you brought this stuff.”
“Once a Boy Scout, et cetera.”
“I never was.”
“No?”
“My parents wouldn’t let me join. Boy Scouts were too…grungy. Let’s just say they don’t camp.”
“So what did you like to do as a kid?” Ben asked.
“I was a great swimmer. Used to spend all the time I could at the pool in our country club. I was pretty good in prep school. But drawing was my favorite thing. I wanted to go to art school so much.”
He wasn’t sure why he was rambling. Curled up in the wilderness in the pitch black with Ben inches away was like the strangest dream. He shivered on the hard ground, yet felt outside himself at the same time.
He choked down the swell of panic and grief. He’d get Maggie back. He had to.
Ben asked, “Why didn’t you go? Oh, of course. Maggie.”
“She changed my life.” Jason had to swallow hard, his throat burning. “And people felt sorry for me, like I was losing everything, but they didn’t get it. They don’t understand how much she gave me. She’s…” He took a shuddering breath. “She’s everything.”
“We’re going to find her, Jason. She’s going to be okay.”
“This is a nightmare and I don’t think it’s ever going to end.” He blinked against a rush of tears. “I can’t live without her. I can’t.” His guts were torn out, flapping in the cold slice of wind, his heart exposed and bloody.
Ben pressed closer, rubbing a comforting hand over Jason’s shoulder and arm.
Jason fought for air, blood rushing in his ears. “I can’t. I need her back.”
“Shh. It’s okay.”
Jason’s pulse thundered, desperate need burning. He couldn’t think—he was all raw nerves, trembling and grasping. He needed warmth to cling to like a life raft, and he turned over, burrowing close to Ben.
“I’ve got you. I’m here.” Ben held him so tightly, murmuring into his hair.
It wasn’t enough. Jason needed more, needed something to fill the gaping hole inside him. He panted harshly against the rough stubble of Ben’s throat, searching.
Then he was kissing Ben, jamming their mouths together, still drowning and grasping for the surface, clutching Ben close. He opened his mouth on a gasp, and their tongues met, wet and thrusting. Ben groaned, and Jason’s head spun.
What the hell am I doing?
Shoving backwards, he scrambled to his hands and knees, pushing away the blanket. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Ben soothed. In the pitch black, his searching hand made contact, and Jason jerked out of his grasp.
Jason babbled, “I don’t know why I did that. I… What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing. You’re under an enormous amount of strain. You want comfort. It’s normal to reach out.”
“But I’ve never… I don’t…” Jason scrubbed a hand over his face, the darkness pressing in. He wanted to wake up. He had to wake up from this hell.
“You’re in shock. Let’s get some rest.”
Shame slithered through Jason with a low hiss. His daughter was out there with a psycho, helpless and alone, and he was kissing someone. Kissing Ben.
But thinking of Maggie was gut-wrenching agony, and he desperately wanted to retreat into Ben’s arms so he could forget, only for a minute. Waiting in the dark, he was utterly powerless, and he wanted to shut off his mind and connect with Ben—warm, breathing, soothing. He yearned to feel anything but soul-shattering terror.
So weak!
He struggled to be strong. “No. This isn’t… I can’t.” He pushed to his feet.
Ben’s hand gripped Jason’s calf. “It’s fifty degrees, if that. It’s windy and cold, and hypothermia is a real threat. Get back here, and don’t make me chase you. This will not help Maggie.”
He was right, and Jason dropped back to the ground. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re just going to sleep, okay? Come on. That’s it.” Ben gently pulled Jason onto his side, spooning up behind him and tucking the blanket over Jason carefully before slipping his arm inside, solid around Jason’s chest. “Sleep,” Ben whispered.
Quicksand sucked Jason in all the way to his armpits. Echoes of sensations wheeled through his ragged mind: Ben’s strong hands, the salty taste of his lips and warm puff of breath, his low groan, barely out loud. The smell of sweat and dirt and Ben that filled his nose now.
God, Jason ached to lose himself in Ben’s arms, press against him from head to toe so he didn’t know where he stopped and Ben started. The only person he’d ever kissed had been Amy, awkward and fumbling, punctuated by giggles.