Home > Black Ice(49)

Black Ice(49)
Author: Becca Fitzpatrick

I scooted closer, until I was on his half of the bed, sheltered under his slightly raised body. It was a daring thing to do, maybe even a bit foolish. From some far-off place, I could hear the voice of reason urging me to rethink. I didn't feel the switch, but I knew my mind had lost the fight and my body had taken over. I remembered Jude's wet, sensual kiss from my dream, and I had to know if he could elicit the same heated response in me awake.

"It started out like this,” I said in that same hushed voice. With me. Under you.

He wiped a strand of hair off my cheek. He held his hand there a moment, debating. An unfathomable look flickered in his brown eyes, and I had no idea what he was thinking, or what his next move would be. I imagined running my hands up his muscular arms, but I lay scarcely breathing, second-guessing my boldness. I lost my nerve and made up my mind to roll back to my half of the bed, when his voice cut through the silence.

"Britt." His face searched mine, as if he needed to know this was what I really wanted.

I wanted this. I'd wanted it for some time. Even though it was wrong, it was the truth.

Doing this with Jude was crazy. I knew that. But there was something about almost dying that made me desperate to feel alive-and Jude's touch was the only thing that made me feel alive right now.

Jude cupped my cheek, his thumb delicately stroking the line of my eyebrow. "It was a bad dream?"

I swallowed. "A scary dream.”

”Are you scared now?"

I slid my hand behind his neck, running my fingers over his short dark hair. I pulled his head down until his mouth almost touched mine. I could feel the deep rise and fall of his chest. I hardly dared breathe myself, feeling my heartbeat drum in a hypnotic rhythm. The moment felt dreamlike, unreal.

His voice came out hoarse. "Britt-"

I pressed my finger to his lips. "Don't talk." The instruction was meant more for myself, because if we talked, I'd start thinking. And if I thought this through, I'd realize I was making a mistake. I liked the strange, slightly tipsy sensation of having my head strewn with clouds. With my thoughts muted, I felt heady and dangerous, capable of anything.

Jude's lips grazed my mouth, and my body seemed to turn to water, hot and flashing and unstoppable. Jude deepened the kiss, scooping his arm under me, lifting me against him. I ran my hands over his chest, feeling his muscles clench as a great shudder rippled through him. Sliding my fingers to grip behind his shoulder blades, I held on tightly, losing myself in the sheer sensation of his kiss.

He brushed a kiss across my ear. Another rougher kiss to my throat. I lay there, eyes shut, feeling the ground spin beneath me. He teased me with his teeth, nipping and sucking, pushing his knee between my legs to separate them. Somewhere outside myself, I could feel the heat of the campfire. The burn was insignificant next to Jude's hands skimming fire over my body as he kneaded and caressed me with the same hungry impulsiveness that I was feeling as I dug my nails in, trapping him closer.

He dragged me up to my knees and we faced each other in the smoky darkness, pushing our mouths together, shamelessly and recklessly, until mine felt swollen and battered. I climbed onto his hips, arching against his strong hands; he held one splayed to my back while the other traced a delicate, seductive line down the length of my breastbone. He finished his invisible sketch with a kiss planted at the baseline, and I shivered with pleasure.

I unzipped his coat and shoved it down his arms, tossing it hastily aside. With it off, I teased my fingers across his flat, taut stomach and felt the cold metal button at the front of his jeans, and without warning, the gesture caused me to flash back to Calvin. To touching his body. His ghost stormed into my thoughts, and it was like he was right there, in the space with us.

Jude's mouth ground against mine, but I tore away, gasping for air. I couldn't do this. I couldn't kiss Jude and think of Calvin.

Jude's body went rigid. Immediately, I thought he'd sensed the reason for my reluctance, and I grappled for a way to explain. Cal was the first. He was the only other boy. He wasn't easy to forget.

I listened to Jude pant, his whole body stiff as he turned his head toward the open doorway of our hideaway, listening. And that's when I knew it was something else.

"What is it?" I whispered, clutching him, afraid.

His mouth brushed my ear as he spoke. "I'm going to have a look around outside. Stay here."

"Jude-What if-?"I couldn't finish the thought. My fear hung like a stone in my throat.

"I won't be gone long,” he assured me, reaching for the headlamp.

I sat huddled in our hideaway as the minutes stretched on. I grew cold, but I didn't dare scoot closer to the fire. The fire was just outside the doorway-out there, where something in the darkness had scared Jude.

After what felt like a very long time, I heard the crunch of his boots in the snow. He ducked through the entrance, and right away I knew something was wrong.

"Grizzly tracks,” he said soberly. "The fire must have deterred him, but I think he's stalking us."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"We have to move camp,” I said, blindly groping in the shadowy corners of our hideaway for my pack.

Jude took my wrist, gently forcing me to stop. "Whoa. It's okay, Britt. Don't panic,” he said in a soothing voice. "We need to keep the fire burning. He won't cross it to get to us, no matter how curious or hungry he is. I collected extra firewood this morning; it should be enough to keep the fire going through the night. Tomorrow morning I'll follow his tracks, figure out his position, and we'll swing wide around him on our way to Idlewilde."

"I'm scared,” I whispered. I'd felt tipsy and loose ever since drinking the moonshine, but even it couldn't mask the worry sloshing like ice water inside me. A grizzly bear. If the fire burned out, if it came after us, if we had to run-we would be fatally outmatched.

Jude gathered me into his arms. He reclined so that I sat with my back to his chest, his long legs drawn up on either side of mine. Cradling me against his body, he wrapped his arms protectively around me.

"Better?" he murmured into my ear.

I let my head fall back on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here, Jude. I'm glad we have each other."

His breath ruffled my hair. "Me too."

"This may sound strange, but I almost feel . . . more capable with you around. I really do feel like we're in this together, if that makes sense."

"Perfect sense."

If Calvin were here with me instead, I wouldn't be able to say the same. I had always let Calvin take care of me. When we used to go out, even if we took my car, Calvin drove. Calvin paid for dinner. If it was raining and I'd forgotten my coat, I pestered him until he gave me his. I'd wanted him to adore me, protect me, and bend over backward for me. When he didn't measure up, I acted helpless to force him to pay attention to me. With Jude, I trusted my own ability to take care of myself. I felt a sense of security, not desperation. I believed our strengths complemented each other.

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