I take another step toward her, and she steps back like she did in Chicago. But this time, she reaches for me as she does it. When I take another step forward, her eyes start to soften. We continue this little dance until I have her backed against the window.
“Say what you want.”
“You. I want you.”
My nose flares, a deep rumble vibrating from my chest. “You want me to what?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
It’s a start. Before I can think too deeply about what she didn’t say, I crash my lips down onto hers. Her mouth immediately opens to welcome my tongue.
She moans into my mouth when I grab two fistfuls of her ass, pulling her up enough so she can wrap her legs around me.
The evidence of my need for her pokes her stomach and she slides a hand between our bodies to wrap around it.
“Ah, shit,” I hiss when she tugs from base to tip.
“Put me down so I—” She stops midsentence and her whole face changes. Her eyes become unfocused and her head lolls to the side.
“Dani?”
“Put-put me down.” The way she says it this time does not sound full of sexy promises. I set her on the bed and she puts her head between her legs.
“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” All the fire and need drain from my body, concern for her the only thing on my heart.
“Nothing, it was just a head rush.” She stands up and immediately wobbles before pushing past me and running to the bathroom just in time to empty the contents of her stomach.
Altitude sickness.
The mountains have sent my girl into a tailspin.
She’s spent the last six hours puking her guts out, while I’ve been helpless to do anything but rub her back and force-feed her toast.
The worst part is, we can’t even go to a lower altitude because we were hit by a much more severe snowstorm than Yara expected. Thank God, she brought us some essentials before it got too bad.
“You gotta drink this water, Dani.” I urge her to sit up.
“Nooo,” she whines. She mumbles something incoherent under her breath.
“What’d you say?” If she’s slurring her words, I’m even more concerned.
She groans. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘You’re okay, you’re fine, everything’s fine.’ It’s my motto.”
I nod. “When you’re feeling better, maybe you’ll tell me more about it?”
Her eyes are bloodshot from all the puking, but they still sparkle with a smile. “Maybe I will.”
“Good. In the meantime, Google says staying hydrated helps with altitude sickness,” I insist.
She tells me and Google to fuck off, which is too funny to me. “Micah, please. Save yourself. Leave me here to rot.”
“You’re so dramatic. I’m not leaving you.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’m probably in desperate need of What That Mouthwash Do? right now.”
