Shit. What else could she possibly have going on? My heart pounds harder than hers. “Why?”
“It’s stolen.”
“What did you steal?”
She lets out the longest breath. “Your boxers.”
I push away from her face. She explodes into a fit of giggles unlike I’ve ever seen from her, all those feelings of containment vanishing. “My what?”
“Your undershorts! I took them from your pack and hid them.”
I’m not sure if I’m more struck by her happy face of triumph or her confession. Or by how she tricked me even while I felt every emotion of hers. But each option has my heart jumping about like a fool. I can’t figure out if I want to laugh with her or kiss her. Neither are acceptable, but the answer is clear when she shoves me to my back and sits on top of me.
But if I kiss her now I won’t be able to stop. “That wasn’t something real.” I hold her hips as if she might get up and run.
“It was. I really stole them.”
I grip her tighter. “You know what happens when you misbehave, don’t you?”
She twists her face into a lousy attempt at seriousness. “Of course. You get hard.”
I let go of her hip and extend my arm way out to the side. Cold metal finds my fingers. I pick up the knife and hold it to her chest. All I can do is smile. “Do you realize how cute you are when you talk about my cock?”
Her entire face goes slack. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Her cheeks turn pink under the layer of dirt. “You can’t say that,” she whispers.
And I know exactly which word she’s referring to. “I can say whatever the fuck I want, especially when it makes you nervous like that.”
Thunder crashes above us. Her indigo eyes are reflective pools, but I can’t find myself in them. She looks to the sky. The mocking rumble dies away, and she bursts out laughing again.
I don’t waste a second rolling us over and climbing on top of her, my knees on either side of her hips. I sit back without crushing her. “Now tell me about these.” I run my hand up the underside of her shirt and into her bra.
She shrieks and laughs again, unhindered in every way. “You’re freezing!” Every damn leaf rustles with the sudden wind that sweeps down and around us.
And I realize how rare it is to hear her like this. But even bringing out her laugh a million times over couldn’t make up for what I put her through. Nothing could.
I add a second hand to better locate each odd item then balance them on her stomach. “Explain.”
She lifts her head to look at her belly. “Thatis a coin, a cork and a guitar pick. What about them?”
I take the thinnest one, shaped almost like a teardrop, and trace it down her stomach. “Why do you keep them with your tits?”
That’s the guitar pick,Kelter says.
I cringe.I can figure it out.
“You’re such a man,” she accuses.
I flick it back and forth over the slit of skin showing on her belly. “I know.”
Her eyes roll in that irresistible way. “You must really want to know something about me if you used the word cute.”
“I said cute because you’re fucking cute. Deal with it.”
She can’t hold back a smile, and it’s her fault I smile back. The sounds of the woods disappear, and it’s silent way too long, letting the voices in my head blare. I throw all my efforts into not reaching for her ear—my comfort.
