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“Skyl–”
“What do we do now?” I blurt.
A long beat passes, where I think he might push the subject. Fortunately, he lets it go.
“I guess we wait it out,” he says. “It’s getting darker by the second. Soon, we won’t even have the lightning to go by to see. If someone doesn’t find us by morning, then at least we can climb back up and go back the way we came.”
“The tide?”
I feel more than see him shake his head. “I don’t think it’ll reach this far back, but I’ll keep an eye on it.”
I nod.Okay then.
Shifting, I pull my legs out in front of me and I wince. A glance down, just as more lightning flickers through the cave, shows me why.
“Shit, you’re bleeding,” he says just as I notice the gash on my calf.
Now that the adrenaline seems to be wearing off, and I’m no longer choking on ocean water, my other injuries are making themselves known with a vengeance.
My hip aches, and I vaguely remember getting thrown into something hard. A rock?
I’ve no doubt I’ll have a nasty bruise tomorrow. More than one.
Then there’s the six inch gash on my calf that looks pretty gnarly. Not so much deep as it is shredded. It seeps blood onto the sandy stone beneath me.
I flinch when I notice Nolan scooting toward me. He holds a hand up, raising a brow. “Can I?”
I study him warily, then nod.
Extending my leg, I bite my lip, bracing myself as he circles his big hand around my ankle, his fingers nearly touching.
With surprising gentleness and care, he lifts my calf onto his lap. I suck in a gasp, that gives way to another coughing spell.
Nolan frowns, casting me a quick concerned look. I nod, silently telling him I’m okay.
His mouth tightens into a hard line. Looking down, he focuses on my leg, brushing a thumb over the skin surrounding the wound.
I fight a shiver, feeling the rasp of his calloused digit skate over the dusting of dirt and blood matted hair.
He releases me, but doesn’t move my leg. Instead, he reaches back, and peels off his shirt.
My eyes pop open wide, but he’s concentrating too hard to pay me much notice.
The thin fabric resists parting with him, and I don’t blame it. I kind of wish I had more time to fully appreciate the way it molded to his skin.
But then I’m graced with his broad, bare chest instead, and I can’t really find it in me to desire anything else. Not when there’s lightning flickering over us, illuminating the miles of smooth skin laid out before me. Not when there’s all these muscles and tattoos and a dark smattering of hair across firm pecs, and my pulse is quickening, and my mouth is watering. Even his nipples are sexy.
Stop.
Squeezing my thighs together, I clench my hands in front of my chest, reminding myself I almost died.
Hecould’ve died.
Ogling this straight near-stranger who probably can’t stand me and can’t wait to be free of me is the last thing I should be doing.
I watch him curiously as he brings the wet shirt to the gash on my leg, cleaning the blood and dirt from it.
I chew on the inside of my lip, far too enamored with the intense concentration he’s got going on. His dark, chin-length hair hangs wetly around his jaw where it slipped from behind his ear. Even encased in mostly shadow, his face looks deliciously scratchy with stubble I want to bury my nose in and feel against my teeth.
