Tess' fingers stroked upwards along my thighs, and I found myself once more wanting to forget the platonic part of our relationship.
Chapter 3
Therese
Beast landed back at our campsite between our discarded blankets and my brand new Harley. I gave Rafe’s thighs another squeeze and was tempted to see if he was affected by my touch. But Beast had complained the last time we’d gotten a little frisky while riding on him and out of respect for Rafe’s familiar, I kept my hands to myself.
Rafe tossed a leg over Beast’s head and slipped to the ground. I copied his action and wasn’t surprised when I felt Rafe’s hands on either side of my ribcage, just below my breasts. I slid down, with his assistance, and landed lightly, close enough that when I inhaled our chests touched. I slipped my arms around him and pulled him tight against me. I tilted my head back and raised my lips, waiting impatiently for his.
His lips touched mine for the briefest of moments and then he pulled out of my arms.
I stared at him. Since we’d dropped the meshing, I couldn’t see well in the early morning twilight, but I thought he was frowning.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We need to get on the road. Someone knows where we are and I don’t want to wait to see what else they might send after us.”
Damn it, the man could be infuriating. I knew that the meshing and the fight had made him as horny as me, but he hadn’t even tried to quell our emotions as he had when we trained. I had thought that meant he was ready to take a little break and get busy satisfying our basic needs. But here he was acting like my mentor again. It’s not as if he didn’t always act like my mentor, but he didn’t always act like a prude about it.
Still, he was the boss and I the apprentice. I shook my head to clear it of the memory of his naked body against mine and nodded. “Okay, Boss, what now?”
He turned away from me and gathered up the two blankets. We had slept between them but had hardly needed the one over us. The temperature must have dropped into the upper thirties, but as Rafe had explained, Wanderers aren’t bothered by temperature swings very much. It’d taken a few days for me to really notice it, but by last night, I was sure I could have slept in the snow without becoming too cold.
“We’ll continue toward Colorado.”
“Colorado?” I repeated.
“Yes, did you forget?” Rafe asked.
“No, I didn’t forget. At least not that part. I just remembered that my Aunt Emily is stationed in Colorado.”
“Stationed? As in military?”
“Yeah, she’s Army. She used to be in the Army Reserve like Mom, but they were both called to active duty. After Mom was killed, Emily decided to stay in uniform. She had been my only visitor at Wilford Hall until you showed up.”
“Your Dad never came to see you?”
I shook my head. “Dad and I haven’t talked much since I enlisted. He said that if I wanted to get myself killed like Mom then I was a grown woman, and it was my choice, but he was never happy with the decision.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
My stomach growled in a most unladylike manner, and I realized how hungry I was.
Rafe laughed. “Okay, always listen to your stomach. There should be restaurants open in Dumas. I could use some breakfast too.”
He was right there. The healing spell that was still growing me a new foot was sacrificing tissue from my body to construct that foot. I’d woken up hungry as a bear every morning since Rafe had acquired me. Not that I would think to complain, but I’d lost a couple of inches around my waist even though I had been eating everything in sight. The thought of food caused my stomach to growl again.
Rafe grinned. “Yeah, I thought so. You might want to eat a couple of energy bars before we hit the road.”
I thought that sounded like a good idea and retrieved a couple of them from my saddlebags before strapping the bags to the back of my Harley Davidson Softail Deluxe. Rafe had bought the Harley for me before we left New Braunfels, Texas. We had ridden all day passing through Abilene, Lubbock, and Amarillo before making camp in this small copse on the north side of the Canadian River between Amarillo and Dumas. I’d never been in this part of the country before, and the beautiful desolation of northwest Texas was impressive. The pain in my ass-cheeks from my first eight-hour bike ride was also impressive. I had only been half joking when I had asked Rafe for a massage, but he’d laughed and said that the healing spell would take care of that better than a massage. He’d been right, because this morning I felt fine, nothing like the rawness that had made my cheeks feel like I’d ridden with sandpaper panties instead of the nice silk I was wearing.
I scarfed the energy bars down while Rafe stowed his own saddlebags and the blankets on Beast. He checked the embers of our fire and then did his thing of absorbing energy, quenching the last of the coals.
I put the empty wrappers into a jacket pocket and slung a leg over my bike. A moment later, Beast transformed from a grizzly-sized manticore into Rafe’s own Harley. His was a 1965 Harley-Davidson Electra-Glide Panhead that he’d been riding since the bike was only a couple of years old. I slipped on my helmet, Rafe insisted I wear one until I could burn my own shield tattoo. I thought he was a little too protective, but he was the boss.
I raised my head to fasten the chinstraps, and I froze.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed without realizing I was even talking.
High above us, but descending
