Linda Howard - Prey

“Suits me. Do you have any disposable toothbrushes?”

“Sure. I also set the bucket-you know, the one you refused to pee in-outside to catch some rainwater to heat, if you want to wash off with water instead of wet wipes.”

“Water,” she said immediately. “But it doesn’t have to be heated. I don’t mind using cold water.” The prospect of washing with water cheered her. Wipes were great on the trail, but as far as she was concerned they couldn’t take the place of water. They left her with a slightly sticky feel that she thought might mostly be in her head, but if she had an alternative, she’d rather take a break from the wipes.

“There should be some hot water left in the percolator, so you won’t be taking an icy bath. I imagine you’re about ready for another trip outside?”

She was, and she’d been dreading it, because her ankle made the process such an effort. “Trip first, then I’ll clean up.” Half an hour later, the whole exhausting procedure was finished; Dare had divided the water and he was on the lower level washing off and brushing his teeth, while she did the same sitting on the mattress in the sleeping stall. After bringing her back up the ladder he’d pulled the heavy privacy curtain over the opening so she’d feel comfortable stripping off as much as she wanted, then he’d left her alone.

Add “gentleman” to the list of complimentary adjectives she had to apply to the damn man.

But she was undeniably grateful for the privacy; even though he’d stripped her clothes off that morning and cleaned her up, she’d been so exhausted and spent she’d been mostly out of it, so that didn’t count. Now that she was thinking more clearly, she was well aware of the risks of letting herself get carried away by the physical closeness, the dependence, and tricking herself into reading more into their closeness than really existed. That would be so, so easy to do, and seeing the risk set off her protective internal alarms. She didn’t know what she was doing when it came to man/woman situations, so the best way to keep from making a fool of herself again was to steer clear. Normally that wasn’t difficult, but, well, Dare and those damn butterflies could lead her into temptation.

Forewarned was forearmed-if she could just keep that in mind.

She had stuffed some clean clothes into her saddlebags, but she’d been in a hurry, trying to keep from panicking, so she wasn’t certain exactly what she’d packed. Pulling the bags toward her, she unloaded them. Protein bars, water, her pistol, ammo-from a survival standpoint, she’d grabbed the correct stuff. In the way of clothing she’d put in two pairs each of clean socks and underwear, a pair of jeans, and two flannel shirts. Not bad; if she’d been able to get her coat dry, she’d have been fairly well prepared for the weather.

But one thing she hadn’t packed was a clean set of sweats to sleep in. She’d have to continue making do with Dare’s thermal bottoms. She could give him back his flannel shirt and sleep in her own, but she didn’t want to. Oh, God, she’d be in serious trouble if she didn’t watch out.

After washing in the cool water and brushing her teeth with one of the disposable toothbrushes, which was essentially a piece of pink sponge glued to a lollipop stick with a minty-tasting something in the sponge to take the place of toothpaste, she pulled Dare’s clothes back on, and put on one of her own thick socks. She was rewrapping her ankle when she heard Dare coming up the ladder.

“You finished?”

“Yes.” The curtain was swept aside almost before the word was out of her mouth. She looked up at him with a little smile curving her mouth. “Thanks. I feel a lot better now, almost human.”

For one second a hard, unreadable expression set his face, almost as if he was clenching his teeth, then it was gone so fast she wasn’t sure she’d truly seen it or if it was a shadow thrown on his face by the stark light of the lantern. “Is something wrong?” She fought hard to keep her voice level. If something was going on, some disaster about to befall them, then she wanted to know about it, so she could meet the problem head-on. She liked to be prepared for any eventuality.

“No, why?”

“You just had a funny expression-funny strange, not funny ha-ha.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“If there is, I want to know about it, so I won’t be surprised.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“I don’t like surprises. I want to be prepared, so I can handle whatever it is.”

This time she had no problem reading his expression, because exasperation was an easy one. “Nothing’s. Wrong.”

“Then why did you look as if you had a gas pain?”

His dark brows came down to a point over his nose. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“And you aren’t?” she retorted. She felt more certain of herself now that they were back on familiar ground: arguing. Not that they’d argued a lot-just once, in fact, the day she’d put her place up for sale-because after she’d seen how he was killing her business she’d actively avoided him, but in her imagination she’d had many, many aggressive conversations with him.

“Yeah, but you’re taking the lead on this one.”

Despite herself, she laughed.

Dare stared down at her for a split second, that strange expression back on his face. Then he moved fast, bending down and seizing her shoulders. Startled, she looked up at him and opened her mouth to either protest or blast him, and he kissed her.

Angie’s mind went blank. All of her gray matter seemed to freeze, because abruptly it was producing nothing, not a thought, not a word. His taste filled her, the same minty taste of the toothbrushes underlaid with him , Dare, man. Sensation flooded her, a hundred sensations that stood out crystal clear: the firmness of his lips, the scratchiness of the bristle on his face, the hard grip of his hands on her shoulders, the teasing stroke of his tongue against hers.

Somehow her fists knotted in the fabric of his shirt, holding on tight as if she might fall over if she didn’t, though the way he was gripping her there was no danger of falling anywhere. Somehow her mouth was open under the pressure of his, and she was vaguely aware that she was kissing him in return, her tongue meeting his, her lips clinging.

Then heat came roaring in like a wildfire, scorching along her nerve endings. Everything about him got to her: the hot scent of his skin underlying that of the fresh rainwater he’d used to wash, his taste filling her mouth, the strength of the hands holding her, and, God, yes, the size of the erection he’d put her hand on. Everything she felt physically mingled with the emotional whiplash he’d given her in the past fifteen hours and exploded inside her, hurling her straight into heaven or hell, maybe both, because she couldn’t tell one from the other. But it all became want, curling deep in her belly, clenching between her legs, taking her as unaware as if she had no idea what sex was about.

But she did, and this was Dare, and when her brain sluggishly began working again she couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

She pulled her head back with a jerk, staring up at him with huge dark eyes, blinking in bewilderment. “What are you doing ?” she blurted.

And he smiled, that heart-thumping, stomach-knotting smile. “Shutting you up,” he said. “Now let’s get some damn sleep. I’m still bushed, so I hope you don’t twitch around like a squirrel on hot coals the way you did before.”

Dare lay with Angie’s ass cuddled tight against his aching dick, hoping, praying, she’d twitch like that squirrel on hot coals he’d compared her to, but she was sound asleep. Despite the way she’d stared at him in shock after he kissed her, once she lay down again and got settled, she’d dropped off to sleep like a baby, which told him exactly how much the night before had taken out of her. He was still pretty wiped himself, and could feel sleep coming on, but he wanted to enjoy the feel of her snuggled against him for a while before he let go.