Page 28 of Love Below Zero

28

STAY FOREVER

BECKY

We make it through the night, but only barely. The temperature continues to drop, and the storm doesn’t let up until mid-morning. By that time, I’m seriously considering gnawing on James’ arm for food.

We sleep in fits and starts, but the storm and the cold keep us awake. I can tell he’s hanging on by a thread. He needs proper rest, alone time, and some noise-cancelling headphones. He tries to give me comfort throughout the night, but he’s too overstimulated and tired. I say a tiny prayer of thanks when Eli radios to tell us he’s on his way.

James has been silent all morning, while I’ve been quietly losing my mind. As soon as we step into the dome, reality will come rushing back in. He’ll realise that he’s jeopardising his career and this mission by being with me.

Actually, I’m a little unclear on that. Do teary declarations of love after he spilled his guts about his ex-girlfriend (who I am already planning on tracking down and killing) mean that we’re a thing now? I mean, you can love someone and still not want to be with them .

We didn’t talk much afterwards, but I’m itching to ask him if he really is up for this. I come with so much baggage, and I haven’t told him how dire my publishing situation is. It takes all I have not to spiral as I watch him put everything in the container back into place. He helps me into my hazmat suit, and when Eli pulls the door open, I almost burst into tears again.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Eli says, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. The hug is nice, but it’s not the pair of arms I want around me at this point.

Eli lets go of me and gives James a once-over. “How’s the head?”

“Fine,” James says, bumping his shoulder against Eli’s. “I can afford to lose a few brain cells, unlike you.”

Eli rolls his eyes, but his answering grin is wide. “Glad to see you’re not too traumatised.”

James’ gaze meets mine, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not traumatised at all.”

Eli looks back and forth between us, eyes narrowed.

“Did something happen last night?” He asks with a little too much interest.

I’m absolutely not discussing this with him.

“If we don’t get back to the dome right this second so I can have breakfast, I’m going to start dismembering you for food,” I tell him.

Eli laughs, holding up his hands. “Alright, you two crazy kids, let’s get home.”

The dome smells like dirty socks, and I’ve never been happier. Frances and Jojo welcome us back and feed us before we have a debrief that lasts several hours. James and I recap what happened last night, leaving out the more spicy details. I’m not putting “I let James Reid tie me to a table and fuck me until I saw stars” in my report to the ESA and NASA. Maybe I’ll put it on a T-shirt though. Later.

His hand grazes my knee a few times underneath the table while we’re debriefing, and each time he makes contact, my skin catches on fire. Eli watches us like a hawk, but he mercifully doesn’t say anything. I catch him exchanging weighted glances with Joanna, and I swear if they made another bet on me and James, I’m going to kill them off in my next book. If I ever publish a next book.

The threat still stands.

Eventually we are dismissed to shower (yes, the full eight minutes) and sleep. I’m tired, but at the same time too wired to sleep. My brain is still processing the events of the last twenty-four hours, and everything feels slightly off-kilter.

I’m in bed, freshly showered, hugging Mr Spock Junior to my chest and staring at the ceiling. Something feels off, and I can’t put my finger on it.

I reach for the notepad I keep next to the bed and scribble down a few lines before tossing it onto the nightstand again. I should be asleep. The faint sounds of the movie Frances, Eli, and Joanna are watching drift up the stairs. I try listening for any movement coming from James’ room, but hear nothing. Maybe he’s already asleep?

We still haven’t talked, or defined the relationship. I want to go over there, but I’m trying to give him space and not overwhelm him. He needs to process too, but that’s what I’m afraid of. What if when he’s done thinking about it, he decides it’s not worth it? That the risk isn’t worth it.

That I’m not worth it .

What would I do? I stood with my heart in my hands last night and offered it to him. Does he want it forever, or only for a night?

Do I want his heart forever? My heart screams yes but my brain. My brain is being too smart about it. Which is so dumb because I never make the smart decisions, but now I’m considering it?

And now that I’m lying here in my own bed in the dark, it’s all too easy to convince myself that last night was a dream. It doesn’t feel real, and the memories are already starting to become hazy.

I hate having thoughts. I don’t want to think.

Sighing, I push myself off the bed and head for the door. I don’t know where I’m going, downstairs or to James, but it doesn’t matter. When I pull open the door, he’s already there, hand paused in mid-air as if he was about to knock. We stare at each other for two seconds before he steps into my room, closing the space between us.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers before his lips find mine. Oh, so that’s why I felt so off balance. We spent one night together and it wasn’t enough. I want him next to me, in the same bed. I want to fall asleep listening to the sounds of his breathing.

I am the dictionary definition of head over heels.

“You should be resting,” I breathe against his lips, but my arms wrap around his neck and I pull him closer. I have no intention of letting him go anywhere. One of his hands grips my hip, pulling me into him. The other winds into my hair, tilting my head back to give him better access as he slips his tongue into my mouth. His glasses bump against my nose .

A spark flares in my belly. He kisses like he’s a starving, desperate man.

“I should be here,” he whispers against my mouth, his grip on my hair tightening.

“Fuck,” I grumble, pulling back. I rip his glasses off, tossing them onto the desk. I immediately go back to kissing him. Much better. Heat gathers between my legs and I tug him toward the bed.

“Did you bring rope?” I ask as I pull at his shirt.

He laughs softly, catching my wandering hands and holding them between his.

“I did actually come to talk.”

“Then you shouldn’t have started the conversation with that kiss.”

He sits down on the bed, pulling me with him and tucking me into his side. His arm drapes over my shoulders as we lean back against the dome.

“Probably not, but I’ve been wanting to do that the whole day.”

I curl into him, chest warming at the fact that he’s been thinking of me.

“What do you want to talk about?”

He buries his face in my hair, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Us. The rest of the mission. After.”

My stomach flips, and not in a good way. He’s going to tell me there can’t be an us, that he doesn’t want me anymore.

It feels like there’s a hand wrapped around my heart, squeezing the life out of it. He’s always seen right through me, probably knows me better than I know myself at this point. If I were him, I wouldn’t want me either.

“I understand,” I say, trying to keep my voice level .

“You understand what? I haven’t said anything yet.”

“Maybe it’s better if you don’t say it. We can’t be together.”

I feel him sigh, but I don’t dare look at him.

“So let me get this straight. I tell you I’m in love with you and your brain instantly goes ‘we can’t be together’?”

“Being in love with someone and wanting to be with them are two different things, James.”

He pulls back and I look up, thinking he’s going to leave, but instead my gaze meets warm green eyes.

“Do you want to be with me, Rebecca?”

More than anything.

“Yes, but—” He cuts me off with a soft kiss, his free arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me fully onto his lap.

“No buts. I asked a yes or no question.” His lips trail over my cheek, down my jawline and neck. I suck in a breath. I want to be with him, but I’m so scared. Love is actually terrifying.

“Yes, I want to be with you.”

“Then we’ll be together.”

He makes it sound so simple, and maybe it is. I’m overthinking this whole thing. It feels like there are more logistics we need to sort out, but he’s kissing my neck and I’m on his lap and we’re wearing considerably less clothes than we were last night. I run my hands over his shoulders and into his hair, tugging his head back and capturing his lips again. His hand travels down my back, cupping my ass and pushing me into him. He lets out a low groan. We are done talking.

I roll my hips into him, his already hard cock nudging against me. I want our clothes out of the way, but I also desperately want the friction. Our kiss turns slow and sloppy as I grind my hips into him, his hands digging into my ass.

“Rebecca ...” he groans, his voice a hoarse whisper that sends heat up my spine. “Can I fuck you? Please, love.”

Another gush of heat rushes out of me, my hips bucking against him. “Yes.”

Laughter from downstairs floats up and I still, snapping back to reality for a second. The dome walls are thin, and if Frances, Eli, or Joanna come upstairs, they will definitely hear us. The thought of being discovered sends a small thrill through me and I look at James. His eyes sparkle as he reaches for the hem of my shirt, tugging it over my head. I’m not wearing a bra, and his eyes darken at the sight of me.

“We’ll just have to be quiet.” He presses a kiss to my collarbone and my thoughts scatter again. I run my hands through his hair, tugging hard. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses all the way to the top of my breasts. I squirm, wanting him to touch me everywhere and nowhere at the same time. My body feels like a live wire under his hands.

He takes one of my nipples into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, and I have to muffle a shout. His hands grip my waist, trailing down my body, stopping just shy of where I need him most.

“James,” I whimper, arching my back into him as he swirls his tongue lazily around my nipple. “Please.”

“Please what, my love?” His thumb traces agonising circles over my abdomen and I desperately clench around nothing.

“Touch me,” I beg, gasping for breath. He’s driving me insane .

“I am touching you.” I feel him smirk against my skin. He’s still as infuriating and pedantic as ever.

“Not there. Here.” I tug on his hair again, demanding, before taking one of his hands and sliding it between my legs. His fingers slip through my wet folds and I bite down on my lip to stop myself from moaning.

“Fuck, Rebecca,” he growls. His fingers find my clit, rubbing slow circles around it. It does nothing to soothe the ache between my legs. I need him inside me, and not just his fingers this time. I reach between us, my hand hovering on the waistband of his sweats. He stills, and I wait, holding my breath.

“It’s okay if you don’t want me to touch you,” I tell him, resting my head against his.

“I want you to.” He lifts his head to meet my gaze. I can’t help the small smile as I take him in. Pupils blown wide, hair standing up in every direction. My mad scientist unravelled. “I don’t know how long I’ll last, love, and I want to make it good for you.”

“It’s already good for me.” I roll my hips into his touch, soaking his hand. He can easily make me come like this again if he wants to. “But I want it to be good for you as well, no matter what that looks like.”

He nods, relaxing. “Firm touches, yeah?”

I slip my hand into his pants, palming him through his briefs. He lets out a low groan, burying his face in my neck as his fingers continue to work my clit.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispers, biting at the sensitive skin just below my earlobe. My brain goes blank for a second, overwhelmed by the feeling of him everywhere. I wrap my hand around his cock, giving him a few firm strokes like he asked. His body shudders underneath mine. He’s hard and thick, and just the thought of him inside of me makes me slightly delirious.

His fingers tease my entrance before slipping inside. My walls clench around him and I desperately want to cry out his name.

“James, please ... I need you inside of me.”

He presses another kiss to my neck before pulling back. “Take off your pants and get on your knees.”

I have the sudden urge to reply with “yes, sir,” but I bite my lip instead. I reluctantly let him go, doing what he asked. He pulls off his shirt and pants and I freeze, staring at him. Fuck, he looks so good. Who allowed him to look that good naked? Surely it’s a crime somewhere in the world.

He catches me staring, a sly grin spreading over his features. “Are you just going to stare at me all night, love? I thought I told you to get on your knees.”

Fuck, that’s hot. My body is shaking with anticipation as I get on my knees on the bed, looking back at him over my shoulder. The air feels heavy between us, and when his fingers graze my bare skin, I feel like I’m going to explode. He bends me over, wrapping my hands around the headboard.

“Don’t let go,” he says into my ear, sending a shiver down my back. His voice is quietly commanding. What would happen if I disobeyed him? The brat in me wants to, but as if he can read my mind, he stops touching me.

I look over my shoulder at him. He’s on his knees behind me, fiddling with a condom wrapper. There are condoms in Antarctica? I should have given it more thought, considering I’m not on birth control. But I am a little preoccupied with his cock.

“James ...” I squirm. “Where did you get that? ”

He looks at me as he rolls the condom over himself. “The med kit.”

“Thought you came here to talk.”

His grin definitely says otherwise. “We did talk. Now are you going to be a good girl and hold on to the headboard?”

I can feel my own wetness dripping down my thighs. My body screams for him to touch me. He’s so close I can feel the heat of him. I arch my back, pushing my ass into the air.

“Yes, yes,” I groan, tightening my grip on the headboard. Fuck, he’s going to ruin me. One hand grips my hip, pulling me into him. I feel his cock slide through my folds and I shove my face into the pillow to stop myself from screaming. I am this close to begging for him.

“Such a needy girl,” he growls, the head of his cock brushing against my clit. The slick sound of him gliding through my folds makes my core clench, my own pulse hammering in my ears.

“Please,” I moan into the pillow. He nudges my entrance and my hips buckle, pushing into him. “Yes, please, fuck.”

I feel delirious as he slides into me, my walls clenching around his hard length.

“Shit, Rebecca.” His voice is reverent, in awe. Like this is a religious experience for him. I’m pretty sure it’s a religious experience for me too. Nothing has ever felt this good. He leans over me, his hips picking up the pace as he thrusts in and out of me. I bite into the pillow, dying to scream his name.

He reaches around me, fingers finding my clit again. Every single nerve ending is alive, his touch sending bolts of lightning through me. My knees are weak, my body shaking as he fills me, over and over again, pushing deeper with each thrust.

“You are perfect,” he whispers, trailing kisses down my back. His tender touch combined with his agonisingly deep strokes brings me right up to the edge. My toes curl as he hits a sensitive spot, pleasure washing over me.

“James, I have to—” I don’t get to finish the sentence as my orgasm rips through me. My walls clench around him, my nails digging into the headboard. Stars explode in my vision, my body shattering like the big bang.

Religious experience indeed.

“You look so beautiful when you come.” I feel his teeth dig into my back, wondering if he’ll leave a mark. His thrusts continue as I ride out my orgasm, becoming more frantic until he lets go with a shudder.

We collapse on the bed, breathing hard like we’ve just run a marathon. I blink away the last of the stars as he slips out of me, immediately missing the fullness of him.

“Christ,” I breathe, and he laughs hoarsely.

“You can say that again.”

I watch as he disposes of the condom before pulling on his clothes. “I’ll be right back.” He slips out of the door, but I’m too exhausted to move. I should get dressed, go pee, but I am thoroughly fucked and incapable of normal motor functions.

He returns a short while later with a wet cloth to clean me. I can’t help but moan at his light touch between my legs, and he presses a soft kiss to my mouth.

“I like the sounds you make when I touch you.”

“I like when you touch me.”

He smiles, and I reach out to trace the laugh lines around his eyes. I really could look into those fields of green for the rest of my life.

He helps me back into my thermals before tucking me in under the covers. I yawn, making grabby hands at him. Exhaustion tugs at me, and his aftercare lulled me into a complete state of bliss.

“Stay for a bit?”

He can’t sleep in my room, and he’ll have to go back to his own room before the others come upstairs. But I want him next to me.

“I’ll stay forever, darling.” He slips in beside me, warm arms wrapping around me as I drift off.

I wake up alone the next morning. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it does. He can’t stay the night. The walls are thin, and the rest would be able to hear us if they were in their rooms as well. It’s better for him to sleep in his own room. But fuck if I don’t miss him already. I haven’t slept that well in a long time, practically since we entered the dome. I miss the warmth of his body next to mine, his steady breathing. It calms me.

Reluctantly I get up, running my fingers through my hair before throwing on some clothes for the day. I trudge downstairs, ready for a cup of tea and some astronaut sludge for breakfast.

Eli is already at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. He takes it black, like James. Psychopaths definitely seek each other out. He looks up at me, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Morning.” His voice is full of innuendo. Oh god, please don’t tell me he heard us last night. Anything but that.

“Morning,” I say back, trying to keep my tone neutral.

“Have a nice night?” he asks, innocently .

“It was uneventful.”

He snickers, and embarrassment colours my cheeks. “I’m sure it was.” He points to a spot on his collarbone, just beneath his shirt. “You’ve got a little something there.”

I freeze. Shit. Fuck.

I practically run for the downstairs bathroom, flipping on the lights and peering in the mirror. Aside from the fact that I look suspiciously well-rested, a dark purple bruise peeks out from under the collar of my shirt.

James Reid left a hickey on my collarbone. A big one at that. I rub at it, like I can somehow get it to go away if I just press hard enough. But no, it’s still there, staring at me accusingly, broadcasting every single thing James and I did last night.

I storm out of the bathroom, past Eli—who looks smug as shit—and back to my room. I find a shirt with a higher collar, pulling it on instead.

It’s going to be a long day.