Water From the Moon Read Online Free Page B

curve of Acasia’s neck below her close–cropped hair, the sway of her hips beneath her pack, became tantalizing, hypnotic, disturbing. Heat saturated every nerve of his body with a savage wanting. His step faltered as he made an effort to put reality back in perspective. All he could do was feel.
    The rescue, and Acasia’s unexpected reentry into his life, had taken their toll. Cameron’s shirt, already tight, became suffocating. He gripped the neck of it and ripped it open, his chest heaving with release. Sweat poured off him, and the scents of the jungle overwhelmed him. He could smell hibiscus and orchids, decaying vegetation and heat. And something more, infuriatingly elusive, that came from the woman ahead of him. A low growl left his throat.
    The sound, barely audible, stopped Acasia dead in her tracks. Around them the forest breathed heavily, leaf brushing leaf, small animals rustling through crushed grasses near their feet. She had heard that predatory–male rasp before, but she had never dreamed of it in relation to Cameron. She flicked a glance over her shoulder and froze, sucking in huge lungsful of thick, tepid air. The sight of Cameron stunned her. The beat of the forest was in his veins, and it frightened her. She reached for the canteen attached to her pack.
    Trembling, she opened the canteen and held it out to Cameron. He took it and drank deeply, allowing water to spill out the sides of his mouth and down his chest. Sensuality—blatant, raw, graceful, animalistic—radiated from him. His bare torso glistened, framed by the ragged shirt, rising and falling unevenly with each swallow. Muscles tensed in his arm when he pulled the canteen from his lips, and his eyes slid back to Acasia’s face, telegraphing a primitive message. His mouth was full, sensual, his lips parted.
    No! She was losing herself to an illusion, a memory he couldn’t possibly be sharing.
    Acasia gulped and tried to moisten her dry lips. If this were anyone else she would know how to handle him, but this was Cam, and she’d so often dreamed…
    Overhead, thunder rolled, and with it came Cameron, closer, lids drooping over eyes that held her mute, weaving a torrid spell.
    No! she thought. It’s just the place… the heat… We shouldn’t… We can’t…. Don’t!
    The echoing litany tumbled over and over in Acasia’s head, shrieking danger, but she didn’t, couldn’t, move.
    When he was inches from her, Cameron stopped, raised a hand and let a finger trail along her jaw. Acasia’s T–shirt suddenly felt too small, her breasts thrust forward, nipples pebbled against it, seeking freedom. Hungry now, her eyes traveled the length of him, savoring the molding of fabric to muscle. Drawn upward again, her gaze settled on his face, finding there a feral smile. His hand found her waist and drew her hard against him. Her lower lip pouted in anticipation, and his teeth captured it, tasted, then released it.
    Her mouth opened invitingly, and he met it with his own, his tongue thrusting forward to taste her lips before plunging past her teeth to take part in a molten duel. Her hands rose to his waist, found the torn shirt and finished the job he’d begun. His slipped up to relieve her of the gun, then trailed down her sides as he bent to lay it on the ground.
    What was left of logic vanished completely. His hands traveled back up to outline her breasts, then tensed.
    Acasia’s eyes closed and her breathing grew labored as his roving fingers brought pleasure to her. He lifted the pack away from her, then moved closer again, eye–to–eye with her for an instant before their bodies twined savagely together, mouths fueling fire, teeth and tongues creating madness, fingers urgently tearing shirts from pants to find skin. Desire pounded between them in a new litany; fabric was the enemy; sensation was all.
    They were so close.         
    There was a shattering clap of thunder, and the rain deluged them in a sudden torrent. Caught in