Page 106 of The Illicit Play

“Yeah, they are,” I mumble, trying to come up with happier topics. This is such a downer. It’s darkening my mood again, and just as we’re walking out of the sunlight and back into the forest.

Perfect timing, right?

Opening up to her is making me feel too vulnerable. We’re getting too deep, too personal. Her insightful comments are wearing away at my resolve like sandpaper. It’s thinning my protective exterior, making her more than just a sexy hiking buddy. I mean, of course she’s more than that, but do I honestly want to become good friends with this girl? Do I want to confide in her?

Hell no! That’ll only make this a thousand times harder!

Gritting my teeth, I pick up my pace, desperate to create a little more distance. Slamming my feet down with purpose, I glance over my shoulder to check she’s still following me and completely miss the broken tree branch that’s poking out onto the trail.

“Ah! Fuck!” I can’t help shouting, agitation firing through me at the hot pain lancing my forearm.

“Are you okay?” Blake starts running; I can hear her crashing down the trail.

Quickly moving, I push the branch out of her way so she doesn’t get jabbed, too, before slapping my hand over the wound.

“What happened?” Her skin is pale, her eyes large with worry.

“Branch just got me,” I grit out. “No big deal.”

“Well, let me look.” She reaches for my wrist, holding it steady and trying to move my other hand.

“It’s fine. I can deal with it.”

“At least let me help.” She unbuckles her pack, dropping it at her feet and rummaging around for the first-aid kit. I gave it to her after ouryou can’t carry all the weightargument.

Pulling it free, she rips it open and starts plucking through it, clearly having no idea what she’s doing.

“Give it to me,” I growl, yanking the small red bag out of her hands.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” she grumbles. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll pass it to you.”

“I’ve got it.” I crouch down, placing the bag on the ground and picking out the things I need.

“Can I hold that for you?” She steps close, her thigh brushing my shoulder as she leans down to steady my arm.

Shit, she smells so good.

This is dangerous.

She’s too close. Her leg is pressing against my arm. I can’t concentrate when she’s this near.

Fuck. I’m losing my mind around this woman!

What is happening to me?

“I’m good, Blake. Just give me some space.”

“But it looks sore.” She hisses, studying the ragged wound.

It’s really not that bad, just a surface scratch, but I still need to sterilize it and maybe just wrap it until we get to our campsite.

“Here. Let me.” Taking the alcohol wipe off me, she rips open the packet and starts wiping down my wound.

It burns and stings, and now her hair is tickling my face as she leans over me.

All I want to do is fist those luscious curls and swivel her to face me. I want to press my mouth against hers, drinking her in, kissing her until we both can’t breathe.

“I got it!” I snap, my tortured brain instantly regretting my harsh tone.