Raiders of the Lost Heart

Dammit . . . it felt good being this close to him. Warmth rippled through her body, and her nipples hardened. Could he feel it? Did she want him to feel it? The pace of his breathing picked up, matching hers one to one.

A roar of thunder cracked through the sky, snapping them out of whatever daze they’d been in and forcing their bodies apart as if lightning had sliced between them. And with that one rolling boom came an onslaught of rain. The once-calm camp was now in an all-out flurry with people running for shelter and grabbing their things.

“The Jeep,” Ford said.

“My things!” Corrie followed up. Within seconds, her bags, sitting on the backseat of the topless Jeep, would be soaked. Dammit.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her by the hand and running through the pouring rain.

By the time they reached the Jeep, Corrie’s hair was plastered against her cheek. Her shirt clung to her skin. At least her shirt was black. Ford’s white button-down, on the other hand, was practically see-through, highlighting every bump and divot of his perfect pecs and abs.

“Here, take this,” he said, tearing her attention from his chest and handing her the smaller of her bags as he grabbed the other. “Now follow me.”

They ran back through the camp, following the string lights as the rain came down so fast and hard that it couldn’t even soak into the ground. Puddles started to form throughout camp, splashing up whenever Corrie and Ford ran through them. Finally, they reached one of the tents, and Ford pulled open the door to let her in. Once inside, a calmness settled over her, despite the loudness of the rain pounding on the roof.

“These are waterproof, right?” she asked as Ford came in and set her bag on the wooden platform floor.

“Yes. You’ll be fine.”

He ran his hand through his hair, shaking out some of the excess water while she took in her surroundings.

The space was large. Larger than any tent she’d ever slept in. There was a bed, a real full-size bed in one corner with a trunk at the foot. A desk covered with papers sat immediately across from it. A couple of comfortable-looking wooden chairs with a small table were in yet another corner. And by the entry was a bench with a pile of gear.

“This is nice,” she said. A little fancy for her tastes, but, hey, it sure beat waking in a puddle in the middle of the night.

“You’ll get one like this, too. If you stay, I mean,” he said.

She couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty that she hadn’t made up her mind.

“Here,” he said, handing her a towel and then taking off his glasses to dry them off.

She took it in her hand and pressed it against her hair and then her chest, trying to blot the water soaking through.

“Ugh, my stuff is probably all wet,” she said, kneeling to open one of her bags to check.

“We can lay everything out to dry,” Ford said, opening the other bag.

The big bag.

Oh no. Not that one.

“That’s okay, I can do it,” she said.

“It’s not a problem. I don’t mind,” he continued, clearly not hearing the panic in her voice.

“No, really. I’ve got it.” She started to get up, watching his arm disappear into her bag. “No, don’t go in there!”

Ford pulled out his arm, and along with it a long purple contraption. “What is this?” he asked, eyeing the device suspiciously.

“It’s . . . it’s my vibrator.”

He instantly dropped it, sending it to the floor with a loud clunk.

“My God, Ford, don’t break it,” she said, rushing to pick it up off the ground.

“Well, what is that doing in there?”

“What do you mean, ‘What’s it doing in there’? It’s my bag. I told you not to go in there.”

“Well, why didn’t you warn me?”

“I did warn you. I said not to go in there.”

“Yeah, but you could have said why.”

“Oh, really? What was I supposed to say? ‘Don’t go in there, Ford. That’s where I keep my vibrator’?”

“It certainly would have stopped me.”

She turned it on to make sure the fall hadn’t broken it. Bzzzzzzzzzz.

“Oh my God, what are you doing?” he asked, lifting his hands to cover his ears and turning away.

“Making sure you didn’t break it.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. What, am I supposed to wait until I want to use it only to then realize that it’s broken? If anyone should be embarrassed here, it’s me, not you. Man up, Ford. It’s just a sex toy. Lots of women use them. Men, too,” she then added with a quick purse of her lips.

“It’s time for me to go,” he said, failing to look in her direction.

Interesting. Note to Corrie: Ford was uncomfortable with this. In fact, his discomfort made Corrie more comfortable with the fact that her purple monster, or Barney as she liked to call it, was on full display.

“Well, have a good night, Ford,” she said, folding her arms with Barney still in her hand.

He glanced back at her one last time. “Good night. And don’t use that thing in my bed.”





Chapter

Four


    A vibrator. She’d actually brought a vibrator on an archaeological dig.

How was he supposed to focus on the dig—or, hell, how was he supposed to focus on sleep—when his mind kept wandering back to Corrie pleasuring herself in his bed? On his sheets that he would presumably return to the following night.

It was bad enough that Corrie’s presence distracted him from the task at hand. He needed to get back his eyes on the prize mentality.

He needed this for his mom.

Fuck! He didn’t want to think about his mom. Not now while his cock ached, picturing that long, smooth contraption whirring through Corrie’s body. And worse yet? He couldn’t do anything about it, not with three other guys sharing the same tent.

Guess he needed some new surroundings.

Under the darkness of the jungle, Ford crept out of bed in the middle of the night, confirming no others were out and about before making his way to the bathing area for a cold shower. Finally with some privacy, he stroked his cock under the cool spray, needing to relieve the tension so he could get some sleep. Once he returned to bed, however, he kept having dreams about Corrie, thinking about how it had felt when she’d pressed her breasts against his arm. The fact that she hadn’t pulled away . . . well . . . Ford could only surmise what that meant. Based on the way her breath had hitched, he suspected she’d liked it as much as he had. Was that even possible?

When his alarm went off at six thirty, he could have sworn he’d just fallen asleep. Bringing Corrie here was proving to be a terrible error in judgment, even if just for the fact that her presence deprived him of much-needed sleep. He’d been erring a lot lately. He needed to get this morning over with. One way or another, it would solve his dilemma. Either she’d decide to leave—a real possibility after everything that had happened—or she’d hunker down and focus like the Corrie he’d known back in school. The one who wouldn’t let anyone or anything stand in her way. The one who was determined and brilliant.

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