Vivian Arend - High Risk

She slipped her hands across his chest, savouring the way his muscles tightened as she explored. The way he groaned and caught her around the waist with his left arm. His tight grip brought their torsos into contact and the rising hardness of his erection was clear, no matter how many layers of webbing there were between them.

He kissed her harder. Consumed her, pulsed his groin against hers and let his excitement show in the way he took her mouth. Made her ache.

He tore his lips away only to press them to her throat, her neck, biting and nipping his way along her body. His right hand slipped upward until he cupped her breast, holding her intimately.

She arched into him. Needing. Aching. Wanting more, to take the rush of endorphins from her climb and put them into stripping him and fucking him right there, damn the consequences.

He tugged her shirt free, heated fingers skimming over her waist, coming back to jerk her sports bra out of the way so he could take possession of her naked breast.

It was too much, and not enough. She twisted against him, rubbing until the webbing of her harness caught his, and they were both trapped.

His fingers pinched her nipple and she moaned out her pleasure. Marcus dragged his teeth up her neck, returning to capture her mouth yet again. Becki breathed him in. Breathed in the scent of chalk dust in the air, the sweat of the climb, her lingering fear.

God, she wanted him.

When he slowed she whimpered in protest, the sound escaping louder than expected as his lips left hers. He adjusted her bra, straightened her shirt, smoothed a touch over her waist.

And stepped away, leaving her panting and wavering on her feet.

“Take off the blindfold.” The order whispered out, nonetheless commanding for the volume.

She lifted her hands to undo the knot, knowing that she was flushed. Wondering what she’d see on his face.

What she found made her breath shake as she fought to fill her lungs.

Pride.

Admiration.

Craving.

She was still reeling from his kiss. From the euphoria of the climb. From the way following his every order had made her tingle with nearly forgotten satisfaction.

Seven years ago while he’d played her body like a fine instrument, he’d shared his philosophy regarding climbing. No—more than that. It had been his attitude concerning living, and she’d grasped hold of those beliefs with two hands and not let go.

Not until the accident had torn her world from her.

Every reminder of who she had been helped keep alive the hope that she could get herself back.

Marcus forced her to remember that life was more than the ability to climb. That her passions ran deeper than the job she did and the people she rescued. Made her wonder if perhaps fate had put this man in her path, again, for more than one reason.

Now she needed the courage to accept and take the next step.

Becki stuck around after Lifeline’s Saturday morning training was complete, hanging over the deck railing to observe Erin hover the team over the drop site as they rappelled to targets Marcus placed on the ground.

No matter how enjoyable staring after the man and admiring him from a distance was, it didn’t make her next decision any easier.

They’d left the gym the day before without speaking of the kiss. Without Marcus making any more demands or requests of her, which was good, because if he had suggested they go back to his house and spend the night locked together, she would have agreed in an instant.

Then regretted it in the morning.

“Tripp. Haul ass up and try again,” Marcus shouted. Tripp waved before hooking his hands onto the swinging rope and moved hand over hand toward the chopper. A safety rope dangled from his harness, but he did the work himself, rising to the level of the open side door, where hands reached to drag him into the cargo bay.

Alisha stepped out, rappelling downward efficiently, stopping five feet from the ground and gesturing toward the field. Anders could be seen in the opening as he adjusted tensions, Erin shifting the entire chopper to the south.

Smooth and serene, as if she were walking down the sidewalk of Banff Avenue, Alisha used the momentum of the rope to launch herself the final distance to land directly on a target, both feet squarely in the center.

Marcus gave her a high five, the young woman’s face beaming with delight as he motioned his approval to the aircraft with a thumbs-up.

Becki applauded as Alisha unclipped and headed toward the building, a wide grin on her face.

Yes, Marcus knew how to time things, whether deliberate praise as to Alisha, or the perfect moment and method he’d used the previous day to coax a climb out of her.

To coax a climb, a kiss, and a grope—oh, the man had no issues with timing whatsoever. Becki still wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Passion was a good thing. Enjoying sex was fine—she wouldn’t even consider it an indulgence. But she was old enough to want everything she did to be for more reasons than it felt good at the time.

She needed her mind engaged as well as her hormones.

Becki was still pondering her current dilemma an hour later when the exercise was done and everyone had turned to relaxing. The guys took off without a word, leaving Becki with Erin and Alisha at the staff headquarters.

“Lunch?” Becki asked.

“Boys are bringing food back. You can pour me a juice,” Erin requested as she made her way to the couch. She threw herself down and propped her feet on the coffee table. “I’d ask for something with a kick, but I swore off the rotgut until boot camp is completed.”

“Nothing for me,” Alisha called. “I want to finish this chapter before lunch arrives.”

She grabbed a book from her backpack. Becki filled two glasses with orange juice and brought them over to where Erin was sprawled. “Keeping yourself on your toes?”

“Damn right. Plus now I don’t trust Marcus not to call and get me out of bed five minutes after I collapse from a binge.”

“He would, too.” She sat across from Erin and shook her head. “Tough session?”

“Wind kept shifting. Flying March to May around here is a whole lot more exciting than the rest of the year put together. Did you hear it’s supposed to snow tonight? The mountains and the changing temperatures make me doubly glad there’s not a lot of people on the trails this time of year.” Erin closed her eyes, head back against the couch. “Still, wouldn’t trade it for anything. The adrenaline rush is like crack.”

If anyone would understand the thrills she missed, and her continuing confusion, it was another SAR member. The one extra component was what added to the intricacy of this situation. Becki swirled the last of her drink against the ice and considered whether discussing her uncertainty with Erin would be totally out of line.

She stuck with a safer query. “You like working for Lifeline?”

Erin sat up slowly, as if considering as she pulled her hair into order, the thick black mass of it barely contained in her ponytail. “Lifeline rocks. The team is great. They don’t drive me totally mad, only partially. I get to fly and usually have enough spare time to indulge my bad habits. What’s not to love?”

“Bad habits, huh?” She looked Erin over with curiosity. Becki bet it would be interesting to discover what Erin, so poised and confident, considered an indulgence. After reading the team files Becki knew they were nearly the same age, and having someone she could talk to about more than work was definitely on the list of things needed in her life.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been silently pondering when Erin laughed. “You’re twitching like you’ve got something on your mind. Ask or don’t. No skin off my back. But if you want to talk, I’ve seen more than the little blonde girl in the corner.”

Becki smiled, glancing over at where the young woman in question was curled up on one of the couches on the far side of the room. Alisha was totally engrossed in her book, eyes going wide every now and then as she read. “She is sweet, isn’t she?”

“Like honey on an ice cream cone. Gets everything around her sticky and messy as well.” Erin shuddered. Becki laughed. “Well, it’s true. She talked me into going to see some Disney release the other day.”

“Hey, they aren’t all bad.”

Erin sniffed. “I know, and I won’t even lie—I had to break out the tissues at one point. God, I hate that.”

Alisha stood with a jerk, slipped her finger between the pages to hold her spot, and left the room without a backward glance.

“And . . . countdown to Devon entering our view in three, two, one . . . On schedule.” Erin mock-bowed as the blond young man crossed into their line of vision. He stared after Alisha’s retreating back as he dropped to the couch, his expression clearly one of frustration. “You know, I can hardly wait until those two get this twisted foreplay out of their system and just fuck each other stupid. It’s getting old putting up with their weird dance.”

“Really?” Becki looked Devon over again, this time armed with Erin’s suggestion, and thought through all the interactions she’d seen between Alisha and Devon. “I suppose that makes sense, in some weird way.”

“See? Twisted.”

Becki smiled. “Well, I might be nearly as twisted. What do you think of Marcus?”

“My Marcus? Like the guy who pays my salary so he’s allowed to shout at me and demand all sorts of insane things from me? Like making me stand on a platform in the dark and practice recognizing which direction the wind is coming from?”

Becki couldn’t stop her laughter. “Where does he get these ideas from?”

“You should talk.” Erin grimaced. “Are games some kind of obsession with you? Because the next time you set up orienteering, I’m calling in sick.”

“What are you complaining about? You did great.”

Erin shook her head, “Oh no, you’re not distracting me anymore. What’s got your knickers in a twist? We already established the who as Marcus, which, hello, no surprise there since you’ve been working with him for a week now. Some guys just have a way of getting under your skin like nobody’s business.”

“Yeah.” Becki considered carefully, making sure Devon was still out of earshot on the far side of the room. At what point was she sharing too much? “We had a fling once.”

“Oh really?” Erin raised her glass in salute. “Nice. Not that I want details, but I always imagined he’s the type to know what to do under the sheets.”

And against the wall. On the floor. Becki smiled. “Decisive is . . . an understatement.”

Erin nodded. Waited. Finally made a face and laughed. “So, let me guess. You’re considering another round?”

“Considering, then thinking no. Considering, then thinking yes. I’m like some weird sexual yo-yo, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Is it because you’re working together?” Erin shrugged. “Because I don’t think what you’ve got going is a big deal. It’s not as if you’ll be running rescues together. That’s the time when relationships get freaky.”

“I was sleeping with my climbing partner,” Becki confessed.

Erin twisted her mouth to the side. “But you worked search and rescue in Yellowstone, and he didn’t, right?”

“No, but . . .” Yeah, she saw the point. “It’s still Dane I’m thinking about.”

The other woman sat quietly for a moment. “How long ago is it again? Eight months or so?”

Becki nodded.

“Oh hon, you’re tying the knots tighter and faster than you can untie them. You miss him?”

Guilt and confusion made lousy analytical tools. “Maybe? We were comfortable. We weren’t in love.”

Erin sat back and sipped her drink for a minute. “I had a guy once. We were close, same kind of thing—good together in bed, enjoyed each other’s company to a point. It wasn’t perfect, but it was . . . there. A constant. Like you said, comfortable.”

Becki gazed over at Erin curiously. “What happened to him?”

“It got uncomfortable. Not sure if it was him or me that changed. I decided I had to move on. Did I miss him for a while? Hell, yeah. There’s nothing like a guy you’ve trained to know what you like in bed.”

She wanted to laugh at Erin’s blunt comments, but Becki’s mind was racing. “I do miss Dane. Miss the company. I feel guilty, like there was something more I could have done, and I’m not talking about the missing pieces of what happened that day.”