Darkness Awakened (Primal Heat Trilogy #1) (Order of the Blade) (11 page)

“One little rock is holding up the entire ceiling? Didn’t you consider steel beams when you were building this thing? I mean, this is Oregon, right? Land of rain and mud—” Her panicked rant ended when he dropped his body onto hers, shoving her down into the mud. She squeezed her eyes shut as her chin sank into the muck. “Quinn—”

“Turn your head to the side,” he ordered. “Breathe.”

She tucked her head into the pocket of air between his arm and his chest and inhaled cautiously. It was clean air. Clean enough to breathe, at least. Alive for another minute. Yay, that.

He stretched his legs on either side of hers, his hips driving against hers. Was there no longer enough space for him to be on his knees anymore?

“The ceiling’s too low now, isn’t it?” She couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice. “There’s no room.”

“There’s plenty of room. I just like grinding my pelvis into your sexy little bottom. Now keep moving forward. It’s not much further.”

Think of sexy little bottoms. Think of grinding pelvis action. Anything but dying.
She dug her elbows into the slop, shoved herself forward another inch, and thought of drowning in mud again. “It’s not working.” Her chest was tightening up, her breathing was getting difficult. “I’m going to have a panic attack—”

His head dropped down next to hers, so his cheek was against hers. “We’re going low only to go under the rock,” he said, his voice rough in her ear. “It’ll open back up. How are you going to stay out of my bed?” His hips drove against her butt, forcing her to move forward.

Grace tried desperately to concentrate on his question, on sex, on his bed. On anything but her situation. “It’ll be easy to stay out of your bed. I’ll just think about what an ass you are for taking me into a tunnel that collapsed.” Whoops. That hadn’t lasted long. She’d gone from his ass to collapsing tunnels in one breath.

He laughed softly, his whiskers scraping her cheek. “Nah. You’ll be so appreciative of my ability to get us out alive that you’ll throw yourself at me and shower me with hot, wet kisses that will drive us both insane with lust.”

Heat ignited inside her belly, and she groaned with embarrassment when he chuckled, clearly sensing her arousal. “I must be your
sheva
if you can stir up sexual desire in me when I’m buried under a ton of dirt.” She slid forward another inch.

“We’re clear of the rock.” Quinn lifted his upper body off hers slightly and her lungs expanded gratefully. “Maybe it’s not the
sheva
thing. Maybe it’s simply that mud’s your aphrodisiac and I just happen to be the lucky guy who benefits.”

“Entirely possible. I’ve always had this strange attraction to co-ed mud wrestling.” Okay, this was good. The ridiculous craving she had for his body was coming in really handy. Fear of tunnels was fading fast, and hot desire was coming strong. Grace had never thought of herself as wanton before, but she was so taking that right now.

“So, is getting slimed up with mud and a hot guy all you thought it would be?”

A desperate giggle escaped at his playfully-arrogant tone. Quinn was totally trying to work her over when they were about to die. Men were insane. That’s all there was to it. “Actually, it seemed a little sexier in my dreams.”

“Yeah? What’s your wildest sex fantasy?”

She snorted. “Sex that was decent would be a good start.” Embarrassment flooded her cheeks at the accidental over-sharing of information. “I mean, it’s not like I’m bad at it or anything—”

“Hey.” Quinn leaned down and grazed his teeth over her earlobe. “I’ve kissed you, Grace Matthews. I’ve tasted your lips and breathed your passion. Trust me when I tell you if you’ve had unsatisfactory sex in the past, the problem wasn’t you.” His voice was low, laced with sensual teasing. “You’ve simply been with the wrong men, sweetheart.”

His body was so hot against her, his quads taut where he straddled her hips, making her body ache with awareness. “And you’d be the right man?” It had gone way past sexual banter now. Her whole body was vibrating with desire, and she was vividly aware of the way his body was so intimately pressed against hers from chest to calf.

He bit the side of her neck with a playful snarl. “I’d rock your world.”

Laughter bubbled out of her, even while the cold mud oozed between her fingers as she pulled herself a little further along. “I can’t believe you just said that. That’s so cliché.”

“Yeah, but I’m right, so who cares?” He shifted, and his weight pressed down on her again. “Hang on a sec.”

“What’s wrong?” She tucked her head to the side again, trying to find a place to breathe. Her lips hit mud and dirt oozed into her mouth. Terror seized her, then Quinn’s hand cupped her head and he turned her head until she found an air pocket.

Grace gulped the air gratefully, barely squeezing it into her lungs, trying to expand them under the pressure of his weight.

“I think this is it.” His upper body tensed and jerked hard to the side, and there was a creak and a thud of something heavy smashing into the earth.

Light flooded over them, blinding her.

Her throat tightened and tears filled her eyes. “We’re out?”

“Of course. Did you doubt me?” He shoved himself off her with a grunt, and she could feel him vibrating with the effort of lifting the mud up off both of them. “Go.”

She squinted against the light and hoisted herself up on her elbows, her arms trembling with fatigue. She scrambled out from under him, tumbled over a steel door, then pitched head-first off a shallow ledge into a bed of damp ferns. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the canopy of trees, inhaling the fresh air, drinking in the sounds of the forest, the breeze on her face, the feeling of being alive and free.

Quinn landed next to her with a groan. He rolled once until he came to a stop with his head on her stomach. He draped one arm across her legs and turned his head to the side so his cheek was resting on her belly, as if she were his favorite pillow. His breathing was labored, his body immobile, his eyes closed. “This is nice,” he said finally.

Grace grinned, practically giddy with relief to be out of the tunnel. “Quite pleasant,” she agreed.

“Aren’t you going to jump me for saving your life?” Quinn asked, his eyes still closed. “You’re going to have to do all the work. I’m too beat.”

Something about the tone of his voice caught Grace’s attention, and she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him more closely. He was caked in mud, as was she. His face was slack, his body heavy on hers. Concern lodged in her throat as she moved her leg to try to nudge him into opening his eyes.

He didn’t.

“Aren’t you supposed to be basically indestructible?” she asked.

“Did I tell you I died three days ago? Died and came back.” Quinn groaned and wrapped his fingers around her ankle. “Apparently, it beats the crap out of a guy. I was planning to recoup for a few hours, but this chick showed up at my house, set it on fire and forced me to travel almost forty miles underground. It’s been a hell of a week.”

Grace tensed. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?” It was surprisingly unnerving to see the warrior who’d been so strong for her suddenly seem vulnerable.

He opened his eyes, his steely gaze fastening on her face. “Grace. Don’t worry. I’m fine.” He squeezed her ankle with gentle reassurance. “I need to go into a healing sleep. A few hours is all I need.”

“Then you’ll be okay? You’re sure?”

Quinn grunted in annoyance. “I’m a badass immortal warrior, remember? It insults my manhood that you can even doubt me. Clearly I will have to prove my virility to you at a later date to restore my reputation.”

She grinned, reassured by his relaxed humor. He really was okay. “You’re such a guy.”

“Yeah, thank the gods for that.” He gave her a faint smile and planted a playful kiss on her belly. “Grace, I mean it. Don’t worry about me. We have a date to buck destiny, remember? Getting all mushy about my well-being isn’t going to help us keep our distance.”

“I’m not getting mushy about you. I’m stuck in the middle of the woods with no jungle survival skills,” she retorted as she looked around for the truck he’d said was there. She saw no truck, only trees and underbrush. “You’re my ticket to freedom. That’s why I’m concerned about you.” It certainly wasn’t because she was already having far too many personal thoughts about this man she barely even knew. Yes, granted, he’d saved her life, he accepted her dark side without judgment, he’d taken care of her when she’d been so cold at his house, and she’d seen enough pain in his eyes to know that he carried too much weight in his soul, but she was certainly too smart to let any of
that
sway her into connecting with him.

“Good. Screw the
sheva
thing. I like that.” He closed his eyes. “You should sleep, too. We’re at war. Rest when you can.”

“I can’t sleep. I’m too wired. You’re really going to take a nap?”

“Have to. Gotta heal.” Quinn tightened his grip on her ankle, then flung his other arm up over her belly, anchoring her where she was. “’Night, darlin’. Wake me when breakfast is ready.”

“Quinn—”

The even rhythm of his breathing told her he was already out.

Grace stared down at him, his face relaxed in sleep as he nuzzled against her belly. She hesitated, then lightly traced her fingers over his jaw. Mud flaked off his whiskers, and she raked her fingernail through the coarse hairs to clear off more.

Quinn mumbled her name and nestled deeper against her, and she felt a swell of tenderness. Of protectiveness. Grace rested her hand on the back of his head, stroking gently.

Then she sighed, took her hand back and stretched out on the bed of ferns. Grace clasped her hands behind her head while she stared up at the blue sky, all too aware of the comforting weight of Quinn on her stomach, of his fingers possessively clasping her ankle, as if he were afraid she’d sneak away while he slept.

If it wasn’t for Ana, she would, because this crazy
sheva
destiny wasn’t something she wanted to take on. She’d laughed when Quinn had told her about it, but there was no denying the intensity of her physical reaction to him. Grace had been through too many horrors in her life to completely disregard his story.

She should run from him. Take off. Protect herself against the chance that what he’d told her had even an element of truth.

But Grace needed his help to save her sister, and that trumped everything.

So, instead of shrugging Quinn off and making a choice that might save her own life, Grace tangled her fingers in his hair, closed her eyes, and slept.

* * *

 

Grace woke up alone.

She sat up, straining to see into the darkness of the woods around her. She could hear the whisper of leaves in the wind, the rustle of animals in underbrush, and other sounds she couldn’t identify. Fear rippled through her. Had he left her? “Quinn?”

“Over here.”

Grace nearly sagged with relief.
He hadn’t abandoned her.
She scrambled to her feet and turned around. Quinn was silhouetted in the moonlight as he vaulted over a huge fallen tree and landed soundlessly in front of her, carrying a small bundle of clothes bagged in plastic. He’d washed off the mud, shaved, and changed his clothes. His eyes were bright and energetic.

A man revived. Standing before her was the indomitable warrior who had dragged her to safety through a thousand tons of mud. He was tall, his shoulders were wide, and vibrant energy was rolling off him in thick waves. His sleeves were shoved up, revealing sinewy-forearms, one with the black brand of a sword, the other still covered in fresh scars. Standing in the forest like that, Quinn was elemental male, a part of nature, a force of his own.

Awareness surged through Grace. The part of her that was pure female came to life, responding to him as a man. As a lover. As a protector. As her destiny?
Please not that.

“How are you feeling?” Quinn walked over to her, scowling as he got closer.” You have to stop looking so good when you get up. It’s hell on my self-control.”

Grace couldn’t help feeling pleased at his frustration. Desire raged in his eyes, intense wanting just for her, even though she was covered in mud, days away from her last shower, and an emotional mess. He wanted her anyway, and it made her feel beautiful, sexy, hot. “Sorry. Next time I’ll wash off the twenty pounds of dried clay and put on a negligee instead of my mud-caked clothes. Would that help?”

Quinn frowned. “No, probably not.” He sighed and cupped his hand under her chin, lifting her face to his. “Do you have any idea of the erotic dreams I had because I was wrapped around you like that? Inhaling your scent with every breath? Listening to the cute little noises you make in your sleep? Do you have
any
concept what that shit did to me?”

She swallowed, her skin hot, her nerves on fire. “Um...”

His thumb traced over her lower lip, his eyes nearly glowing in the moonlight. “I want you, Grace. I don’t know if it’s the
sheva
thing, simply you being you, or some combination thereof. But I’m telling you right now that if you stay with me, it’s just a matter of time until I peel off every last bit of your clothing and bury myself inside you until we’re both too exhausted to move, think or feel.” He lowered his head until his lips were hovering over hers. “It won’t be now. Probably not tonight. But it
will
happen. Which means I’m dropping you off at the first gas station we pass.”

And then he kissed her.

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