Uncharted by Adriana Anders

Chapter 34

The blood rushing through Leo’s veins should have been slow and sleepy from the heat of the water, but instead, it raced through her, burning a hot path from her heart to her limbs and back.

The second Elias pulled her onto him, they kissed, and it was nothing like the kisses they’d shared thus far. There was no exploration, no seeking, nothing sweet or new. It was all need and crushing hunger, gnashing teeth and battling tongues. Before she knew it, she was writhing on his lap, desperate for him, starving for this fire they’d lit together.

His big hands—so capable, so steady and strong—were now demanding and rough. There was nothing steady about the way he handled her, like he couldn’t get enough, like he didn’t just want her, he needed her.

“Elias,” she said into his mouth, her body moving, out of control. She couldn’t stay still, couldn’t get her muscles to do what she wanted. These urges were as uncontrollable as hunger, as unconscious as breathing. He made her feel fevered. She let out a little scream and he ate it right from her mouth, consumed it the way she pictured him consuming the rest of her. And she itched, my God, why was she burning like this—not from the hot springs, but from a desire to get inside this man. To do things, to be done by him.

“Hell yes. Yeah, do that again.”

She blinked, tried to look at him, though it was too hard to see and she had no idea what she’d just done. All she knew was that her breasts needed contact, her nipples needed his hands, his cock, his mouth. She was burning with it, not just hungry, but different…rearranged by him, by their raging connection. Like she’d changed for him, somehow, created a space for him. And now he needed to fill it.

This isn’t okay, a little voice of reason intoned. She didn’t change for a man, she’d never make a space in her life for someone else. That wasn’t who she was at all.

He bit her neck, pulled her away from her nagging fear, her worry that if she let him in, she’d never be enough on her own.

“Hey.”

She dove in, bit his lip, worked her hips in a tight circle.

“Hey, Leo. Leo.”

His hands moved from her waist, grabbed her wrists, and held her still. Or at least tried to. She wasn’t having any of this thinking business, not letting the doubts wiggle in and poison what was just a moment of enjoyment. Pure pleasure, no emotions, nothing that could hurt her.

She wouldn’t let him inside her that way. Would never put her heart on the line.

“Leo, sweetheart. Leo.” He let her wrists go and cradled her face with such sweetness, such care, she knew what a liar she was. She was already lost. “Leo, sweetheart, you’re crying.”

She nodded, tried to smile, and gave up on that, like she’d just given up on guarding her heart and soul and body from this man. It was probably too fast and too urgent and too early for love, but it was there. As undeniable as the solid body beneath hers, the rock supporting them both.

Rather than use words she could never take back, she leaned in and told him how she felt with her lips and her eyes and the tears streaming down her face.

By the time she realized what she’d done, it was too late to take back the kiss and the message behind it. With a sigh, she kissed him harder, gave him more, and committed herself without an ounce of regret.

***

“Sweetheart. Leo. God, Leo, let me get a condom. Don’t…” She lifted up, suspended above his cock, and for a few seconds, he was so ready to do it like this and all the consequences be damned.

Hell, who knows?his reckless side chimed in. We could die tomorrow, right?

“I’ll get it.” She stretched, giving him the perfect opportunity to explore her shoulder, her side, her shoulder blade—all the hidden secrets—and yanked at the pouch he’d left by the side of the pool. Hopeful, assuming too much maybe. Whatever. Right now, all he could do was thank God he’d saved these last few condoms after his brief foray into town last year.

“I love how prepared you are,” she said as she ripped open the package.

“Always buy a pack in town.” He shrugged. “Actually forgot that was in my bag, but I’d rather be prepared than left in the cold, you know?”

Biting her lip, she put the condom on the tip of his cock and looked up at him. “You have any idea how sexy that is? A man who’s ready for anything?”

“Uh…” He shook his head and stared down at her hands working the rubber over his stiff dick. “Hm?”

“It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” She ran one hand down his shaft, then the other, squeezing him tightly. “Wow, Elias.”

With a last look and a shaky breath, she met his gaze again, head-on. “Ready?”

“I’m…very excited right now.” He laughed and blew out a hard breath. “Never been readier.”

“Same, Elias.”

“You want this.”

“Oh yes. I want this. I want you.”

Everything inside him went warm and liquid.

All he could do was hold her, eyes focused on the top of her head and the soaked, fresh bandage he’d applied, her square shoulders, her smooth arms, those lush hips, straddling him, lined with light, shiny stretch marks that were absolutely perfect, like every other part of her. Flesh and blood, muscle and bone, strong though too vulnerable for his taste. If she were his, he’d encase her in armor, Kevlar, steel, and cushion her with cotton, or silk or whatever was the softest thing in the world.

They breathed for a bit in unison, now that the initial frenzy had died down, and he could’ve sworn he felt the beating of her heart.

Strong and steady and sure. And the longer he looked at her arms, the more details came out—like the pores and tiny hairs. The power in those thighs, the resilience of a woman who’d almost died more than once these last few days. A couple of scars here and there, in varying shades of silver and brown and tan. He wanted the story behind every scar, wanted to know her—from that little girl who’d wanted more airplanes to the woman she’d become, he wanted to know every little piece of her.

He focused on the bandage on her head again—thought of the scar that would one day be another mark to add to her story. It was healing so fast, she almost didn’t need it wrapped anymore.

She almost didn’t need him.

“Now who’s in his head?” That thin, tensile hand gripped his beard and pulled up—not hard, but enough to sting, to bring him back. “Who’s thinking instead of enjoying this moment? Hm?”

“It’s hard, Leo.”

“No.” She sniffled and gave him a smile. “You are hard. And you’ve got a condom on. And I really, really want to know how you’ll feel inside me.” She arched up, her breasts taunting his chest, her mouth close enough to kiss, though she didn’t. Breathless, he waited. “Can I come on your cock, Elias?”

More blood rushed south, making his erection almost too hard, too hot to touch. “Probably not if you keep talking like that.”

She smiled and kissed him, took her soft heat away long enough to fist his erection, and pressed him to that place where he so desperately needed to be.

He watched, transfixed, as the tip disappeared. And then she stopped.

His gaze rose to meet hers.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled.

“What?” Shit, she was crying again. “Oh, sweetheart.” His chest tightened and he tried to back away, to give her space. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not sure.”

“No. No.” Slowly, so slowly, she sank another inch, taking him inside her body. “I’m just scared of…how I feel, Elias. Why do I feel like this with you?”

How? How did she feel?

His body wanted to thrust and his brain wanted to comfort, but somehow he held himself perfectly still, listening and watching and waiting for what came next.

“I want you to feel…” He grunted when she backed up and worked her way down him again. “Good. Leo, I want to make you feel good.”

This was heaven. Her lush heat, the slow give and take of her body—their bodies together. He just wished he knew how to wipe that tragic expression from her face.

“Me, too, but I…” She swallowed and leaned into his chest. Was she hiding? “Never mind.” She arched her back again, turned to the side, her face tight, and took him in so deep and fast, he had to shut his eyes so he wouldn’t explode right there.

Which would be a terrible idea given…everything. And there was a lot here. A lot going on—some that he got, some that he didn’t. He’d never been the most astute when it came to women.

He put his hands on her waist, moved them down to her hips and squeezed, getting enough purchase to lift her slowly before she slid back down on her own. They built something, one unhurried thrust at a time, each leisurely penetration kindling their passion, their connection.

And while their bodies worked seamlessly together, he recognized that he hadn’t imagined what was happening under the surface. He felt rearranged by this woman. His insides would never be the same again.

Another languid up, a slow, sweet down. Another and another, the water lapping at them, the sky pouring down. Together, they were fire and water and earth and air. Together, they were everything.

She gave him more, pressed harder; he went faster, groaned with every slick slide of her, every tight embrace, every glance from those big, intense eyes.

And then he couldn’t keep the words in anymore. “You’re mine, Leo.” She tightened around him. “Mine.” He lifted a hand to weigh her soft breast, to flick her nipple, then up to caress those voluptuous lips. “I can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“Let you go. I can’t.”

Her movements stuttered, the rhythm fell apart, and she released a wounded little noise, ending on a rough, “Kiss me.”

He leaned forward and gave her what she wanted, though he couldn’t stop at that. He stood and turned so she could put her feet on the edge, and he took her, hard and fast.

“I’m coming.”

“Yeah.” She wrapped herself around him, put her cheek to the top of his head and let out a low, constant groan. It sounded almost like pain. And maybe it was. Tearing them apart after this would be like ripping off a bandage. Worse: like losing a piece of himself. “Me too.”

“What do you need?”

“Just this. Just you, Elias.”

It was coming. He was coming. Hard. Harder maybe than he’d ever come in his life. And now, past the point of no return, he couldn’t have held it back if someone came over the hill shooting.

How could he, when she was moaning his name like she loved him?

***

It took a while to come down. Once she’d caught her breath and disentangled herself from his body, Leo moved to get out of the water, bracing herself for the tight-bellied regret that almost always came after sex.

Only it didn’t this time. Not when he joined her in the cold, wet rain, wrapped her in a blanket, and picked her up. Not when she giggled all the way to the old cabin, let him dry her and dried him in return, before snuggling into the bed they’d set up earlier. Not when he made his slow way down from her mouth, over her body, giving every pore, every hair the kind of attention it had never received, winding up between her legs, where he made slow, sweet love with his mouth.

And tongue.

And teeth and nose and beard.

Good Lord, he was good at this.

She didn’t scream when she orgasmed—they’d been quietly cautious even in their wildest moments—but she felt it in the deep, dark reaches of her core.

In the aftermath, she looked down at his silhouette in the dark and knew that this was it.

They’d probably have nothing in common outside this place, probably wouldn’t even get along, but she didn’t care.

Getting along was overrated after all.

He moved slowly back up, kissed her taste into her mouth, and flopped to his side with a happy groan.

“My turn.” She started to move, but he stopped her with his hand on her shoulder.

“No…I…” He snorted, giving her a sheepish smile. “I want to see your face. The first time we…you…go down there.”

Oh boy. Something twisted in her chest. “Okay.”

“I want to be inside you again.” Another smile. “But we’ve got to eat first.”

“Keep up our strength.” Their shared smile tapered off.

“You want this, Leo? What we’re doing? You like it?”

A funny sound escaped her. “Like it?” She started to shake her head and stopped when it occurred to her that it might send the wrong signals. “‘Like’ is too weak a word for this. Whatever it is.”

He didn’t move. Not an eyelash stirred, not a muscle twitched, but something changed in the way he watched her. “What do you think it is, Leo?”

“Do I think this would have happened in the outside world? Is that what you’re asking?”

“Maybe.”

The question fluttered in her throat. If she stood up now, her knees might not hold her. “This is where it happened. Where this”—she flapped her hand between them—“was made.”

He blinked, narrowed his eyes and waited.

“My parents used to tell the story of how they fell in love. People went wild. So romantic, they’d say. Now that I think about it, though, it wasn’t really their story. It was my dad’s.”

Elias’s brows rose, but he didn’t otherwise move.

“Saw her in London. 1975. Starring in Aida.” She huffed out a little breath and threw him a smiling glance. “Mama was known for her charisma.”

“Bet she could sing, too.”

She laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. Growing up, there were a ton of framed reviews on the music room wall. They called her the Ethiopian Queen.”

“That where she was from?”

She nodded. “In one of them, the critic said that she had the voice that launched a thousand ships.”

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. The story goes that Dad fell in love with her the second she opened her mouth. By intermission, he was fried. Had the conductor—a colleague—introduce them after the show. Two days later, they were planning her move to the U.S.”

“That’s…fast.”

“Right? Mama said she’d never met someone who got her like Dad did. Who knew her inside out. So, maybe it’s…” She huffed out a strangled sound, so out of her element here, with this opening up her soul thing. At the same time, she felt compelled to tell him. “My point is…who’s to say how these things are supposed to happen? Is this less legitimate than if we’d met in a bar or in some college class?”

“No.” The word dropped into the quiet room between them, solid as the rock floor they stood on.

“I doubted their love for a long time, you know? Doubted everything pretty much, after she died.” Unconsciously, Leo’s eyes rose to the dark ceiling. “After she killed herself.” The tears were back, only this time, they weren’t the clean, flowing kind. These were sharp, stagnant things that had sat too long inside her.

“Why?”

“Yeah, that’s not something I’ll ever know.”

“Your dad…”

“Destroyed.” She half shrugged. “I figured it was my fault?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She let him move close, didn’t stop him when he put a big arm around her. “Still think that?”

Shaking her head put her face right against his chest, where he smelled good—like smoke and mountains, with a hint of sulfur. “Depression and some of the meds she was on were probably at least partly to blame. My dad pushed her, too, you know? To be this big diva when she’d been talking about retiring for a while. Maybe teaching. Spending time with me. It wasn’t his fault either.”

“Where is your dad? Now, I mean.”

She sighed. “He’s alone. In a…place. A home, I mean. For people with Alzheimer’s.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“She’s still alive as far as he knows, so…silver lining, right?” Elias’s arms went tighter, drew her in until there was no space between them. No chance she could fall. “I’m sorry,” she managed to gulp between sobs.

“Stop it.”

“I…I…can’t.”

“Not crying. I mean apologizing. Don’t apologize for what you feel, Leo.”

“I don’t cry. I never cry.” The next sob was laced with humor. “God, you’ll never believe that.”

“Sure I do.”

“Seriously.” She was giggling now, though the tears and laughter were indistinguishable. A little levity to lighten the pain. “I didn’t cry when she died. Didn’t cry at her funeral or when I…” She gulped back her next words.

“When you what?”

“How about I save some of my”—hiccup—“stories for another day?”

“I want it when you’re ready. All of it. Everything you’ve got to give—good or bad. The hard shit. The sad. I want every little bit of you.” He leaned down, put his lips to the side of her head, and whispered, “You don’t scare me, Leo Eddowes.”

“No?” She sniffled, her voice thick with emotion. “Well, you scare the living hell out of me.”

***

They ate quietly, side by side, bodies touching, feelings too close to the surface to disguise and too new to talk about. Leo was wrung out, shaken, but not weak. Like a person after major surgery, everything ached—including her soul—but under that was a better life, a strength she’d never felt.

After years of shoving the truth deep down, she’d ripped herself open, exposed her innards to the light of day, and now needed to heal.

The scarring process, she figured, would hurt like hell, but this newfound fragility felt precious.

After dinner, she went off to clean herself up, stumbling in the dark as she went.

“You okay?” Elias called from inside the dilapidated cabin.

“Yep.”

“Need help?”

She opened her mouth to say no and changed her mind. “Not right now.”

By the time she returned, he’d cleaned up their dinner stuff and set the bedding up again. Without lifting her head from the floor, a sated Bo woofed a gentle greeting that made Leo smile.

Without discussion, they settled under the covers, and though they’d been here before, Leo couldn’t help a nervous thrill at his nearness.

“Something I’ve been thinking about, Leo.” Elias’s voice rumbled through his big chest.

She snuggled closer. “What’s that?”

“How long’s your dad been sick?”

“Got bad about five years ago.” She swallowed down the bitter taste of guilt. “Noticeable to me, I mean.”

“Is that when you left the military?”

She released a long, slow breath. “Yeah.”

“Your team know your dad? Von and Ant or—”

“Ans. Short for Anselm.” She smiled. “Can’t believe you remember their names. We call Von the Grim Reaper and Ans is Ladykiller.”

His brows lifted. “What about you?”

“I’m Terminator. Or, if they’re being really annoying, Arnie.”

“Oooooh. That’s rough.”

“Right.”

“Eric Cooper. He’s kind of the leader, right? And Ford’s his brother. The scientist who’s with the chef.”

She paused. “When did I even tell you this?”

“I listen. I take an interest.”

“Apparently so. I feel…” Seen.

“Remember what you told me, Leo? That I wasn’t alone anymore?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you’ve got your crew, but…guess I wanted to say that you’re not either. Alone, I mean.”

Fresh emotion prickled through her. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Make me cry again.”

“Okay,” he whispered, stroking her back, her side, her back again. “Okay, sweetheart.” The long, slow sweeps of his hand over her thin base layer put her to sleep like a lullaby.

At some point in the night, the touches changed, his or hers, she couldn’t say, but caresses turned to nudges, sighs turned to pants, laziness to intent. She was on her side, with Elias behind her, one hand working her breast, sensual and slow.

The touch lacked the urgency of their previous encounters but had another element she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was dreamy, comforting.

She arched her back, pushing her hips toward him, and felt him, hard. Another shift brought them closer. He grunted when she ground against him and—there—a taste of their earlier frenzy.

“I want…” She reached back and found his erection, hot and hard and ready.

“Yeah…”

“Can you…”

“Yeah.” He yanked at her pants, pulled them down so her ass was bare, and let her feel how badly he wanted this. “Yeah.”

“Elias.” It was all she could say. One word, though it felt like she’d offered up her heart.

“Hang on.” He disappeared for a few moments, taking his firm, heady heat. She barely heard the sounds of him rummaging in his coat pocket, followed by crinkling foil and snapping rubber through the quick beating of her heart. His return was preceded by the acrid scent of latex. “Let’s get this off.” He yanked the pants the rest of the way off her body—without much help from her—slid in behind her again, and nudged her top leg until she lifted it. At the feel of his blunt, heavy tip against her, she tilted until he lined up and slid slowly in.

They shared a sigh as his body filled hers, the sensation still not entirely comfortable, although she was wet.

Yeah, well, if this adventure had taught her one thing, it was that comfort was overrated.

After a minute or two of just being together, he moved and she responded, each taking turns leading their bodies in this magical, electrifying dance. Only this time, orgasm didn’t seem to be his goal, any more than it was hers. It was togetherness they sought.

Every slow slide brought more heaviness, more heat, more sighs of contentment, desire. She had no idea how long he stayed in her like that, how long the ascent lasted. But at some point—could have been hours later—he tightened his full-body hug, deepened the penetration, and came hard, with a low noise that she felt to her marrow.

After recovering, he reached down—still inside her—and rubbed tight circles over her clit. Panting, she came, not even a little surprised when she started leaking tears again.

This must be the new normal. The feelings right there on the surface, instead of suppressed.

He pulled out, arms around her, and lay still for a bit before getting up—probably to deal with the condom, maybe to get away from the soupy swamp of emotion she couldn’t seem to contain around him. When he didn’t immediately return, she rolled into a ball under the blankets, trying to prepare herself for the possibility that she’d cried one too many times with the guy.

The scuff of his returning feet told her she’d underestimated him.

Without a word, he climbed in and eased his big body in front of hers, then sort of under her until her head was on his chest.

She rubbed her face into him, breathed him in, and let herself be happy. So she’d cried a few more tears. Maybe what she felt for him was too big to be contained. Trusting him and winning his trust had opened her up to the possibility of something deeper. It felt good to let him in—cathartic actually.

His hand rubbed circles on her back with a familiarity that spoke of years together, not days. Years of this closeness. What would that be like?

She stretched and made a low, happy sound, fully coming to when his voice rumbled gently in her ear.

“Mom and Dad fell in love at first sight.”

The words sent a shiver down her back. When he didn’t go on, she prompted him. “Seriously? Yours, too?”

“Mom’s blind date never showed. And this guy sitting beside her at the lunch counter bought her a milkshake. Said something cheesy about pretty girls looking sad. Way he told it, she rolled her eyes and turned away, telling him that she wasn’t interested in smiling for any man.”

Leo chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“Said he was done right there. Kaput. Like lock, stock, and whatever. Told me never to settle for a woman who didn’t challenge me. Said I’d hate my life if I chose easy instead of interesting.” His breathing was too measured, as if he were holding it in, doing his best to control it. “Karen—my ex. The one I was supposed to marry. She was nice. I mean a really good person.”

Leo snorted. “She left you.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Yes. Yes, I blame her.” Leo would never do that. Never. “I won’t get mad about it. Her loss and all that.” She settled back into his warmth, a little surprised at how worked up she’d gotten. “My gain.”

He gathered her close and sighed against the top of her head. “I’m wild about you, Leo. No matter what happens, I’ll never regret a moment of this. Not one single second.”

“And if we wake up surrounded by bad guys tomorrow?”

“Not gonna happen.”

She stiffened. “How do you know?”

“While you were heating up dinner, I set my traps.”

She settled back down. “Any chance of Bo stepping in them?”

“She knows better.” He nudged her, as if to remind her that she’d almost stepped in one herself. “We’ve been practicing this shit for ages.”

Sadness welled up at that thought—at a life spent preparing for the worst.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t get maudlin about me again, Leo.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.” He tightened his arm and kissed her head. “’Cause I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am right now.”