Part 10 (1/2)

If he chose to push that arousal b.u.t.ton on the box he continued to hold in his hand, she would likely lose her mind in the biggest o.r.g.a.s.m of her life.

While walking, she'd become highly sensitized to every part of her s.e.x. Had become, she was sure, addicted to the wicked s.h.i.+vers zipping through her heated body. She found it odd that she was able to tolerate the clamps. Something deep at the back of her mind told her the clamps weren't supposed to be worn for this long a period due to the dangers of pinched nerve endings and cutting off blood supply. But hey, instead of hurting, she was being pleasured.

Since he had access to the electronic device, he must have access to other state-of-the-art devices such as harmless clamps, which certainly was a good thing.

She'd also discovered he was a magnet-her gaze stayed riveted to the backside of him. Mostly everything was covered by the huge burlap knapsack he wore, but she found herself concentrating on his exposed parts. On his powerful legs. On the bunch of muscles that bulged in his upper thighs as he walked...as well as his rock-hard a.s.s-all of which were darkly tanned from the sun.

From what she could see, there were no tan lines for this hunk. No siree. Just pure skin and muscle, which flexed magnificently with his every move. Those electrical sparks of arousal amplified at the thought of spending the oncoming night with him-embers of excitement she should not be having for her captor. Yet she was having them and, since she had no memory of who in the world she was, she may as well just go with it.

He moved them faster now. Urgently tugging on her collar, making the carnal sensations s.h.i.+mmering through her increase as they finally reached and began to climb the rocky incline. The rubbing of her c.l.i.t, the pulling of her l.a.b.i.a and nipples reminded her of his hands touching her.

If she had the chance, she'd be writhing, bucking her hips and finger-f.u.c.king herself into sensual oblivion.

d.a.m.n him! She needed to get herself off or she'd go mad!

In order to keep her mind from totally falling into a s.e.xual haze, she counted the cracks of thunder to determine the distance of the storm.

One steamboat, two steamboats, three steamboats....crash. One steamboat, two steamboats....crash.

”Move faster. We are almost there!” he shouted as the roar of the wind began to pummel them. It was getting dark really fast and the first real flickers of fear grabbed hold of her.

If I go any faster, I'll be a useless, o.r.g.a.s.ming ball of flesh, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!

She wanted to shout at him, but she kept her thoughts geared to counting and observing the storm. The clouds were bruised with purple and black. They looked incredible.

”It is an acid storm! Hurry!” he growled, and then suddenly he stopped. His fingers went to her cuffs and he released her hands. Yes! Free!

Quickly, he grabbed her right wrist. ”Do not try to run. You will die. You must follow me!”

In that brief instant, she caught his gaze. Fear shone in his eyes and it seared straight through her too. The son of a b.i.t.c.h was telling her the truth.

He yanked at her and literally had her flying over the boulders. Had he said acid? As in burning acid? Like, she must have heard wrong. Right?

Something hot and painful seared her upper right arm. She yelped in disbelief as a quarter-size part of her flesh bubbled and became red. Oh my G.o.d! He was serious.

She picked up speed, her s.e.xual haze now forgotten.

A couple more shots of hot pain sliced into her arms. One on her upper thigh. Burning flesh a.s.saulted her nostrils. She swore when a blue spark snapped off his knapsack.

Oh s.h.i.+t!

Then another blue spark...and another.

Holy c.r.a.p!

The wind screamed all around them, its fingers tangling in her hair. Her scalp burned as the wind painfully pulled on the strands. The odor of burning hair permeated the air and she fought the rise of panic.

She needed to stay strong, force herself to remain as cool as a cuc.u.mber. And she needed to follow his instructions.

He'd stopped again and was shouting something at her, but d.a.m.ned if she could hear above the roaring wind. A couple of hot blasts of steamy air almost knocked her over, but thankfully he grabbed hold of her and steadied her. Then he let go and struggled to get something out of his knapsack. When he drew out a large, very thin, fur blanket-similar to the one she'd stolen from his sack-and draped it around her shoulders, she understood. Her hair had the possibility of catching fire. Not good.

”Over your head! Follow me!” he shouted.

”What about you?” she screamed and thrust the blanket toward his hand. But he'd already turned around and slung the sack over his back again. He started moving them up the hill.

d.a.m.ned male! They never listened anyway.

Pulling the blanket over her head, she followed him.

More blue sparks snapped off his knapsack. More odors of burning hair. Parts of the sack started smoldering.

She yelped as pain bit her ankle, but the rest of her was well-protected as she held the amazingly light fur blanket over her head and shoulders.

Thunder cracked overhead and sparks of white lightning zipped off a nearby boulder. Well, so much for her cuc.u.mber coolness. It disintegrated and panic began to grab a firm hold.

What if they burned to death? Dear G.o.d, what a h.e.l.l of a way to die! And she meant h.e.l.l quite literally.

Oh stop with the bad joke, Kinley.

Hot air seesawed painfully through her nose and into her lungs. Darkness and lightning wrangled for control. Blue sparks fought with white sparks.

It seemed as if they were climbing forever. Her legs grew tired, her hand clutching the fur loosened and she almost lost the blanket a couple of times. But thankfully, sometime along their way up the rocks, he'd grabbed hold of her other hand. It was a rea.s.suring gesture. Her lifeline to another human being. Someone who might actually give a s.h.i.+t if she died here.

Suddenly he stopped, turned and cursed at the sky. The anger in his dark eyes frightened her. His hot hands slipped around her waist, and then her feet flew off the ground as he swept her into in his strong arms and began walking again.

Her weight would slow them down and she struggled to get out of his arms.

”Hold still!” he growled with anger.

”I can walk!” she insisted.

”The rocks grow hot. You have no footwear. I do.”

Okay, she got the message. Charbroiled feet were not on the menu tonight. Thank goodness, he did care!

White and blue sparks zinged off the rocks like a display of fireworks had been set off right in front of them. It would have looked pretty had she not been so d.a.m.ned scared.

Then the rain came screaming along the rocks behind them.

Hot stabs of rain pelted her exposed feet and she bit back a scream as she envisioned her feet burning off. Then a cold flash of air swept away the humidity and the fierce winds stopped. The storm suddenly seemed far away as he carried her inside some sort of shelter.

”Where are we?” Her voice echoed as she gulped madly at the fresh air, inhaling it deeply into her tortured lungs.

”A cave,” he answered.

No s.h.i.+t.

In the damp darkness his breaths erupted, hard and heavy. His body heat wrapped around her curves. The safety of being in his arms disappeared as he set her down on a carpet of soft, cool moss.

Oh very nice, and her sore, tired feet totally appreciated the carpet.