Adrenaline still buzzed in his brain, flushed his blood, made the heaviness in his limbs a pleasure rather than a pain. He rocked against her, let himself feel the pure, unexpected pleasure of sexual excitement. When had he last felt such a thrill from being with a woman? Years? Decades? He couldn’t help the way his breathing stuttered and his body shook. He couldn’t help grinding himself just a little harder against her.
She made a sound and he stopped. “This okay?”
“Yeah,” her whisper assured him. “It’s good.”
“I’d do anything to be inside you right now, Angel.” She’d scoured his insides, leaving nothing but the truth, clean and raw as the surface of the ice. “Anything.”
She let out a surprised littlepuhsound and went very still.
Maybe that hadn’t been the best thing to say to a woman who’d almost died today.
Shit.The words had just puffed out, exposing him for what he was: part teenager, part soldier, part awkward science nerd.
When she didn’t say anything, he nodded, trying to make space between them, as impossible as that was in this bag.
He swallowed, opened his mouth to apologize, and—
She laughed. More a semichoked cough than the big raucous sounds she used to let out at the station, but a laugh all the same.
“Me too,” she finally managed through the giggles. “But the last thing we need is your penis freezing off.”
“Polar penis.” He shuddered with a laugh.
This woman. Jesus Christ, this woman. Just when he thought he’d pushed things too far, she went and surprised him again. Her eyes, bright and full of humor, didn’t show a trace of today’s narrow escape. He kissed her cheek, then let himself luxuriate in the soft feel of her against his lips and nose. Back and forth, he ran a tender trail from cheek to jaw to mouth, occasionally tickling her with his too-long scruff. Eventually, her giggles faded into happy sighs. He stopped moving and just held her into sleep.
When he slid out of the bag, he was punched in the face by the barrage of sound and icy air. He checked his fingers for frostbite. They were red, but warm, which made him hopeful. Actually, everything made him hopeful right now. He pulled his skullcap over his head before crawling over to the stove to melt more water.
It made absolutely no sense how ridiculously happy he felt. Young and free and indomitablyalive.
Carefully, he went through the food he’d had on his sled, thankful that they’d divided it between them. Even after cutting their portions, they’d have to cover twice their average daily distance to survive.
With the fresh storm to contend with, the crevasse field to avoid, Angel on foot, and lord knew what kind of army after them, they were absolutely fucked. And yet, idiot that he was, Coop couldn’t stop smiling.
Chapter 30
Day 7—201 Miles to Volkov Station—6 Days of Food Remaining
“Nine left.” Angel shoved the bag of protein bars into her pack and held up her set of kitchen knives. “But, hey, at least we’ve got these.”
“And I’ve got this handy virus.”
“Mmmm. Tasty.” She forced a smile even though it hurt. Everything hurt. Her mouth, her feet, the knee that had wanted to buckle before she’d even gotten up today. Her heart hurt worst of all. It felt bruised and battered and swollen up to twice its size.
She desperately wanted to put the tent up again, slide back into the bag with Ford, and just hold him. Just hold him.
He tied their belongings onto the sled, glanced at her, and stopped. “All right?”
Well, we’re running out of food, my body’s broken, and I’m hormonal, though I’d thought that wasn’t even possible for me.
“I’m okay.” She nodded.
“Let’s go.”
Walking was much slower than skiing, but without the sled to haul, it was doable. And the freaking snowshoes were a pain in the ass.
An hour passed. Probably. Who could tell anymore? One step, another, crunching slowly forward, with nothing to think about except death. Or her past.
Funny, though, because as soon as that thought flashed through her mind, her eyes landed on the other thing she could think about—Ford.
