Into the Storm

“More, Joshua … oh God … please …”

Another long shiver rolled through her and this time I couldn’t ignore it. Leaning down, I gathered her up, parka and all, and pulled her up to straddle my lap. I leaned back on my knees, ignoring the pain, and we both moaned at the angle. I started thrusting deeply, holding her tightly against my chest to keep her warm. I couldn’t stop taking her now if I tried. Her arms were wrapped tightly around my neck, her face buried in my chest.

“Oh … oh … oh … Joshua …”

Her body stiffened as she came around me and I followed quickly.

“Fuck … Rabbit …”

I stilled and held her tightly. I could feel the cold penetrating me as the heat of my sweat rose off me, evaporating. I stood up, taking Rabbit with me. I set her on her feet and pulled up our sweats. I wrapped the parka around her and pulled on my jacket quickly. I grabbed my sweater, shoving it in her arms and scooped her up.

“Put me down, Joshua,” she mumbled against my chest. “You’re not carrying me to the house.”

I kissed the top of her forehead. ”Yes, I am, Rabbit.”

She fidgeted a little and I pulled her closer as I walked toward the house. “Hush. I like carrying you.”

Bear was waiting on the steps and went ahead of us, disappearing to the living room. No doubt he wasn’t any more impressed with our outdoor activities than he had been with the indoor ones the past few days.

Inside, I went straight to the basement … and the hot tub. Tenderly, we helped each other discard our clothes. We both sighed when we sank into the heat of the water and I pulled her against me, relaxing as the water bubbled around us.

“I’m sorry,” I said regretfully after a while. “I was an asshole.”

Her arms tightened over mine in silent acceptance.

“How did you know I would come find you?” I asked. “Or were you planning on lying in wait all afternoon?”

Her head tilted up and she smiled at me.

“No. I knew you would think about it and come find me fairly quickly. I knew you wouldn’t be able to stand it if you thought I was upset.”

I lifted my hand and stroked her soft cheek. “No, I couldn’t.” I grinned down at her. “So, you were ready to forgive me, but you thought you’d show off your mad snowballer skills first? Teach me a little lesson?” I teased.

She giggled in response. “I thought it would make you laugh. I, ah … didn’t realize it would bring out other … reactions in you. Not that I’m complaining.”

I nuzzled the top of her head. “Good to know.” I paused. “You bring out reactions in me I have never experienced before, Rabbit. You make me laugh when I least expect it, feel things I have never felt before and, God help me, fill me with a need to make love to you at the most inopportune times.” I bent forward and nipped her earlobe. “Not that I’m complaining either.”

She looked up and kissed me warmly.

“Good to know.”





Chapter Eighteen


Joshua


I sat back, running my hand through my hair. I leaned back in my seat and looked over toward Rabbit who was curled up in the chair behind me. She looked up, smiling softly at me. “How’re the edits going?” she asked. Now that the clearing was done, I had been working on edits for my latest book. Rabbit had been a great help, looking over my notes and making suggestions. We worked together quietly, but I found having her close very soothing.

I shrugged. “They go. It’s been a couple weeks and I have a lot of notes to discuss with my editor. Once we have contact with the outside world, I can get going properly.”

A shadow passed over her face, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she leaned down and stroked Bear’s head. As usual, he gazed up at her adoringly.

“The world is going to show up, Rabbit. We can’t avoid it forever,” I said gently.

“I know.” Her reply was muffled as she continued to stroke Bear.

I hesitated then decided to try and broach the subject, albeit carefully. There was so much we needed to talk about, so many things we had to figure out, but it had to be done the right way.

“How’s the headache?”

“Better.”

“You keep having headaches—you’ve had one every day for the last four days.”

She looked up, her brow furrowed. “I know, Joshua.”

“You’ve also had nightmares. Every night.”

She sighed. “Your point is?”

I leaned forward, resting my arm on my knees as I regarded her. “You are trying to push yourself to remember, Rabbit. I see it. I’ve seen you studying the contents of the bag from your car and concentrating. And I think the headaches are your body’s way of trying to protect your mind. It’s not ready yet.”

“The nightmares scare me, and I can’t remember much of them,” she admitted quietly. “What I can remember doesn’t make sense.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t understand them. It’s like glimpses. A hand coming towards me. Loud noises. Bright lights. Feelings.”

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