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5

ASPEN

Guilt presses down on my chest. I feel bad that Quinton had to carry me through the forest, for God knows how many miles. It’s the only logical option, but that doesn’t mean I like it.

Even now, I can’t put any weight on the limb, and all I have to do is breathe for it to hurt. Occasionally, the whole thing goes numb, and I feel nothing, that is, until I move again.

I sit quietly on the bed, watching as Quinton does all the work, moving logs into the small fireplace so he can start a fire. I feel terrible just sitting here.

“I’m sorry that I’m not more help. I feel bad seeing you…”

Quinton pins me to the mattress with a glare, and the words I planned to say suddenly don’t matter anymore. “Stop. I’m done listening to that. Plus, you can always make it up to me later. I’m sure you can think of a few things to show me how thankful you are.”

The lines between us have blurred so much I’m not sure what we are anymore. Right now, we’re just two humans trying to survive, but what happens when we get back to Corium?

“Nothing has changed. I still hate you. I just hate you a little less right now.” His lips tip up in a knowing smile, and I don’t understand why my thighs clench or my core tightens. All he’s doing is smiling.

When it comes to Quinton, my hormones are all over the place. One minute, I want to punch him in the face, and the next, I want to sit on his face and let him devour me whole. It’s a disastrous idea.

I watch through my lashes as Quinton starts the fire, the smoke in the fireplace giving way to tiny flames that crackle over the wood. Thank god, whoever this place belonged to brought in firewood. No way would we have been able to start a fire with wet wood.

With the fire now started, Q turns to me, his gaze guarded.

“We should take our clothes off so they can dry. Hypothermia can set in without warning, and we have enough problems without adding that in.”

I know he’s referring to my leg, but I don’t take it as a dig. It’s not like he’s wrong. If we get hypothermia, we risk a sooner death, and I just want to make it back to Corium in one piece, not a million ice cubes.

I nod and tug my shirt over my head. My nipples become stiff peaks from the cold air that washes over them. I sense Quinton’s eyes on me, and when I look up, his gaze meets mine.

It’s molten lava, and if he keeps looking at me like that, I might melt into a puddle on the ground, broken leg and all.

I glance down at my pants and realize this is going to be a lot of work. Quinton must think the same thing because he moves toward me before I get the chance to ask for his assistance.

“Lay back and lift your ass up. I’ll help you out of them.” I do as he instructs, and the bed squeaks loudly under my weight. Pain lances my leg as I move to lift my ass. “I’ll brace your leg again before we leave.”

“Okay.” It’s all I can respond, my mind clouded with Quinton being so close.

“You look like someone used you as a punching bag.” His knuckles brush against my skin almost purposefully, and the pain ebbs away; a warmth deep in my belly replaces the lingering phantoms of it.

“I think for being in a helicopter crash, I’m looking pretty well.” Glancing down, I take in the bruises scattering the right side of my body. “My leg has been hurting so bad, I don’t even feel those.”

“You’re still beautiful. Even like this.”

My cheeks heat, and I’m sure they’re the color of crimson. If they are, Quinton doesn’t comment about it.

He peels the material down my legs, seeming unaffected, though when I glance up at him once the fabric is removed and I’m stark naked below him, things seem different.

His gaze becomes wanton, and I shiver at the intensity of hunger deep within the depths. He licks his lips, and I look away, and I’m not sure why I do. It’s not like we haven’t had sex before, like he hasn’t touched me or claimed my body, so I don’t understand the shyness I’m feeling now. All I can explain is the difference in emotion. The sex and what we do with our bodies isn’t different, it’s the way we feel right now.

Death for both of us looms over our heads, and that makes this moment together so much different from all the others we’ve shared.

Turning around swiftly, he gives me his back and drapes my pants over the edge of the bed. Then he strips out of his own clothing, and it’s my turn to become the peeping tom.

I try my best not to gawk at him, but I get lost in the flex of his muscles, and when his naked ass comes into view, I swallow down a bubble of laughter.

God, what is wrong with me?

He lays his clothes out identical to how he laid mine out and then walks over to the kitchenette. I grab the scratchy wool blanket and wrap it around myself, reveling in the warmth that is surrounding me.

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