Freefall. Jill Sorenson

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СКАЧАТЬ it?”

      “Pretty much.”

      “No football or baseball?”

      “I like soccer, but I don’t understand football, and baseball is boring to watch. Not physical enough.”

      She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she shivered in response to the word physical. He had a unique way of speaking, a brevity that appealed to her. Everything about him was spare and lean, from his taut body to his clipped sentences.

      Leaning toward him, she whispered in his ear, “I have to pee.”

      He rose to his feet, eager to assist. She took his proffered hand and stood up, swaying a little. Caleb and Ted were too busy arguing about the space-time continuum to notice their departure.

      Although Faith was afraid of bears, she could have squatted behind a bush without help. Jay stood guard at a nearby tree while she tinkled in the moonlight. She prayed that the leaves near her backside weren’t poison oak.

      When she was finished, she fastened her pants and returned to his side. She tripped on the last step by design, stumbling into his arms.

      Oh my.

      His biceps were very firm beneath her palms, and his chest felt like a warm, hard cocoon. She clung to him, not caring if her pratfall was convincing.

      “Are you all right?”

      “Mmm-hmm.”

      He placed a hand at the small of her back, holding her steady. The action also brought her lower body flush against his. They were much closer than polite distance allowed, and he was making no move to extract himself.

      She twined her arms around his neck, encouraged.

      Not only did he take the hint; he took control, turning her toward the tree and slanting his mouth over hers. She parted her lips on a gasp as her shoulders met the rough bark. Groaning, he dipped his tongue inside.

      He tasted smooth and hot, like campfire whiskey. She hadn’t kissed a man since Tom and it was nice to cleanse her palate.

      Jay did a thorough job, exploring her mouth with silky strokes. He wasn’t pushy or overeager. This was a man who could wait for the main event. His lips were deliciously firm. In her experience, sloppy kissers were sloppy lovers, and anyone who rushed first base didn’t deserve to get waved on to second.

      She moaned and sucked on his tongue, appreciative.

      He must have enjoyed that, because he made a sound in the back of his throat and slid his hands lower, cupping her bottom. Faith approved of the maneuver, and of the desire she felt swelling between them. She pressed her breasts against his chest. Her skin tingled with awareness and heat blossomed between her legs.

      As if reading her mind, he lifted her higher, fitting his erection into the notch of her thighs.

      Unh.

      That was good.

      Still kissing her, he rubbed his hard denim button fly against her cleft, stimulating a riot of sensations.

      She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and swooned, dizzy from arousal. He was going to make her come with her clothes on! She shouldn’t have gone so long without sex. This was embarrassing.

      It wasn’t his fault that she was teetering on the edge of orgasm, and if they had a private place to retreat to, her extreme horniness wouldn’t be a problem. But there was no way she’d let him screw her against a tree twenty feet from the campsite. Faith was adventurous, but she wasn’t that adventurous.

      She tore her mouth from his, panting.

      He didn’t remove his hands from her ass, but he stopped grinding against her, which helped her think. She braced her palms on his chest and gave him a light push. He released her at once, stepping back.

      Her brain wasn’t functioning on all cylinders yet. He was damned near irresistible, standing there in the moonlight, an erection straining the front of his jeans, his dark eyes locked on her mouth.

      “That was hot,” she said.

      “Yes.”

      “I have to go to bed now.”

      “Okay.”

      He walked her to the girls’ tent, not seeming displeased or frustrated in the least. She liked that. Some guys thought every make-out led to sex, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. After a traumatic experience with an aggressive date, Faith had vowed never to let a man overpower her again.

      When they arrived at the entrance, she stood up on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. She wanted to smooth her palm down his body to test his size, but she restrained herself. Teasing him would be cruel.

      “See you tomorrow,” she said, sinking to her knees to unzip the tent.

      He murmured something under his breath that sounded oddly like a foreign language. Then he said good-night and disappeared into the dark.

      * * *

      HOPE AND SAM hiked until sunset.

      Her legs were shaky from overexertion, and she felt light-headed, but she soldiered on, determined to keep moving. Although she was accustomed to strenuous exercise, twelve hours of it tested her physical limits.

      When she stumbled and almost fell down a ravine, Sam suggested a break. She sat down on a flat rock, her thigh muscles quivering. While he disappeared into the trees to relieve himself, she radioed Dispatch, getting a detailed update. Then she checked in with Ron Laramie. To her relief, the rafting group was fine.

      Sam didn’t say anything when he got back. His body language was closed, his mouth set in a hard line.

      She took a sip of water to ease her parched throat before sharing the latest news. “The attendant at Kaweah hasn’t seen any suspicious characters, but one of the campers reported a stolen backpack, and a sheriff’s deputy found a strange set of clothes in the men’s room trash can.”

      “Strange how?”

      “Business attire, soaked in bleach. They cordoned off the bathroom in hopes that evidence can be collected.” Tomorrow, investigators would retrieve the illegal cargo, process the crash site and launch a park-wide manhunt.

      “You think he’s still in the area?”

      She shrugged. They hadn’t seen any sign of him. He might have reentered the wilderness to hide, but there was no way he could have caught up with Faith’s rafting group on foot. She breathed a little easier, knowing that.

      “What about his friends?”

      “They’ll be looking for the cargo. They might not know where it is, or even where the plane crashed.”

      “They’ll know if he tells them.”

      Hope wasn’t sure he would. There’d obviously been a conflict between the suspect and the pilot. It was possible that he wasn’t on good terms with the rest of his СКАЧАТЬ