Body Temperature and Rising - Book One of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy (2 page)

Marie’s legs gave under her, and she sat down hard, letting the aftershocks wash over her. Oxygen rushed back into her starving lungs. Muscles, strained to the point of collapse, relaxed and softened. The strange fire between her hip bones subsided to a warm thrum, and as the mist descended around her again, she managed to crawl to a mossy spot. Suddenly it didn’t matter how far she still had to walk or how thick the mist was. She could no longer hold her eyes open. 

Just before she dozed, she thought she heard Anderson say, ‘There. That’s better, is it not?’

Chapter 2

It was the chill that woke Marie from a dream of delirious wet sex with the couple on the path. The wet she was feeling, however, was not the slippery warmth of sex, but the chilling, heavy damp of the fog that curled around her like a smothering blanket. She jerked her hand from where it nestled in her panties, still sticky from her orgasm. Quickly she straightened up and cleaned herself as best she could then she fumbled with the compass to get her bearings. A glance down at her watch reassured her that she had only slept for a few minutes.

There was no sign of the amorous couple. She listened intently, thinking they surely couldn’t have gone far, yet she heard nothing but thick cottony silence. Now she was not so anxious to hide herself from them. Now she would have welcomed their companionship. 

Her stomach growled. She popped a handful of trail mix into her mouth, took a sip of water, and headed on. The picnic she’d planned for her lunch when the day had been heavy and warm wasn’t likely to happen with the mist hanging over her. All she wanted now was to make it safely back home. She took another bearing on the compass just to make sure, secured the plastic map holder around her neck and trudged forward. 

The next half hour she walked in the maddening fog. The pace was slow, with frequent stops to check map and compass. A light, but relentless rain slowed progress further. Though the map assured her she should be nearing the monstrous cairn at the top of High Spy, she couldn’t fight back the fear that somehow she had missed it, that somehow in spite of nearby civilization, she was lost. In the barren featureless fog, for all she could tell, she might have been transported to another planet while she slept.

She had planned to walk the whole Newlands Horseshoe today, which would have returned her within easy walking distance of her cottage at Lacewing Farm, but she wasn’t even half way there, and going back the way she’d come was beginning to make a lot more sense. Whichever direction she chose, she would be navigating completely by compass. The way back looked no different from the way forward. It was only when she reached into her anorak that she realised she was in trouble. The compass was nowhere to be found. 

Fighting back panic, she searched her rucksack, all of her pockets, even down the front of her shirt, in case the cord had broken and it had fallen inside. But there was no sign of her compass. For the first time since the day had begun, she felt truly alone in the mist. 

It would be all right, she told herself. Keswick was just down in the valley below. These fells were usually crawling with tourists. She really wasn’t alone. Her anorak wasn’t the most waterproof. She hadn’t expected bad weather. But it would do. She had at least a little food and water. She could hold out until the weather cleared a bit then she would just continue on. 

But what if the weather didn’t clear? No one knew where she was. 

The knot that was already a fist in her stomach tightened still further. Her landlord, Tim Meriwether, for the most part, pretended she didn’t exist, and she hadn’t been here long enough to make any other friends. No one would miss her, not even the couple she had watched. 

She knew where she had been from her last compass bearing, so she simply sat down in the middle of what might or might not have been the path and hunched around herself. She’d be all right. She was cold and wet and miserable and the rocks were not exactly gentle on her back side, but she would be all right. She would!

It had to have been a dream, although how she could have dozed under the circumstances, she couldn’t imagine. The dark figure approached silently through the fog, little more than a shadow, and yet her pulse quickened, her nipples ached, and her pussy felt heavy and receptive. Still barely visible in the mist, he walked a tight circle around her, looking down at her, inspecting her, caressing her cheek with a large hand. ‘It was you.’ His voice vibrated up through the pit of her stomach, as though he had taken up residence just below her navel. ‘It was you. Exactly as I suspected.’ 

He moved to stand close behind her, so close that his heat radiated against her back. As she leaned into his warmth, he reached down to caress her breasts. She arched up into his irresistible touch as his hand moved up over her shoulder, her neck, her throat. Almost before she knew what was happening, the pressure of his touch became more insistent, more demanding, almost bruising and the heat was replaced by an icy chill. 

Arousal congealed to cold fear. But just as she gathered herself to run, it was a gentle touch on her arm that woke her, and she looked up into the dark eyes of Anderson. For a sharp second the strange heat between her hip bones flashed hot, then settled to a warm thrum. ‘Come with me, out of the rain.’ He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. She was amazed to find that he was still in the black suit, no anorak, no water proofs, no proper walking boots. 

‘I lost my compass,’ she said. 

‘I’m very sorry to hear that,’ he replied.

Almost before she knew it they were descending. ‘Not to worry,’ he spoke close to Marie’s ear. ‘I am as familiar with these fells as I am with my own face. Once we are safely down to Grange, Tara will be waiting for us.’

He made no attempt to explain who Tara was, nor did he introduce himself. That was her first clue that he might have been aware of her voyeuristic escapade. 

‘We shall be down very quickly,’ he added, turning his face into the storm.

But they weren’t. 

The weather worsened to a downpour. Bent double in the wind, Marie was soaked to the skin and shivering by the time Anderson pulled her into a cave that she hadn’t even seen until they were safe inside. He took her just deep enough to be out of the weather, but not beyond the reach of daylight. There he settled her onto a rocky ledge and sat down next to her.

‘We shall wait out the storm here.’ He offered her a smile and gestured around the cave, which she could now see was a disused quarry. ‘There are many such caves and quarries around the Lake District,’ he said. ‘Some are fenced off for the protection of curious tourists, and others, such as this one, are unknown to all but a few.’

‘And your girlfriend, won’t she be worried?’ 

The tolerant smile he offered made her aware of her mistake. ‘Tara knows what I would do in such weather.’ Then he added, ‘Though she is very dear to me, Tara is not, as you put it, my girlfriend.’

Before she could say anything he chuckled softly. ‘I know that you saw us together, and there is no need to apologise. Neither of us was upset that you enjoyed our love making. In fact we rather hoped it would please you. Besides, one must certainly expect such encounters when one chooses the middle of a well-travelled path for a rendezvous. Now remove your shirt for me, please.’

When she balked, he added, ‘You’re cold and wet. I only wish to make you more comfortable and prevent you catching your death.’ He had already shed his jacket and handed it to her. She was astonished to find it completely dry. ‘You may wear this.’

When she made no effort to put it on, he sighed and scooted closer to her. ‘Please, we must get you dry and warm.’ He unzipped her anorak and pushed it off her shoulders, then tugged the hem of her shirt out of her trousers. His hands were unbelievably warm grazing her bare skin. She lifted her arms, and he slid the wet shirt off over her head, then he reached behind her to unhook her bra while his other hand deftly dealt with the buttons of his black shirt. ‘Now please, put this on.’ He slid the jacket around her shoulders like a blanket, shoved his shirt open and turned so he could pull her against him. 

She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed such a natural thing to slide her arms around him, beneath his shirt, which was as dry as the jacket. As she settled in close, his chest expanded against her bare breasts, and his breath hitched.

‘You are freezing. I think you very much need my body heat.’ 

‘And you seem to have lots of it to offer,’ she spoke between chattering teeth, suddenly very aware of the gouge of her tightly puckered nipples against his warm chest.

He laughed softly, and she felt the deep low rumble of it clear through her centre. ‘My dear, you are welcome to as much heat as I am able to generate.’

The urge was overpowering. She rose on her haunches and kissed him. Out of the clear blue, she just lifted her mouth to his as though it were hers to take, as though she owned it. And he responded in complete acceptance of her possession, warm lips yielding, encouraging, inviting, making room for the flick of her tongue, welcoming her with the flick of his own. 

‘You taste of her,’ she whispered when she came up for breath. 

He cupped her face in a large hand and ran a callused thumb over her bottom lip. ‘But her taste pleases you, does it not?’

She nodded. ‘I can see why it pleased you so much.’ She was suddenly, painfully aware of her brazenness. What the hell was the matter with her behaving this way with a man who was, for all practical purposes, a total stranger? 

She was about to apologise when he pulled her hand to his lips and suckled her fingers, the ones that had been in her panties not all that long ago. He held her in a gaze deeper than the quarry that now protected them. ‘Your taste also pleases me. Even more so than I imagined.’ 

The thought made her pussy tense with delight. ‘You imagined my taste?’

‘Of course I did, but experiencing the aftertaste of someone’s pleasure, though nice, is never as enjoyable as tasting for oneself.’ 

She had no time to do more than squirm at the heat of his comment before he pulled away to remove her boots and wet socks, lingering to chafe her cold feet between his hands, then he opened her trousers with amazing ease. She lifted her arse as he slid them off, along with her panties, then he settled her onto his lap. ‘Your bottom will not appreciate alighting upon a cold slab of slate,’ he said. He guided her to wrap her legs around his waist and arranged the tail of his shirt to cover them. Then he shifted to better balance himself and offered a soft sigh as his hands slid to her hips. 

A quiver of a gasp escaped her throat as she found herself sitting spread and gaping against the erection his trousers clothed, but certainly couldn’t hide. The flash-fire burn below her belly flared again then hummed low and warm as though someone had adjusted the flame. At the sudden shock of it, she buried her face in his shoulder and clenched her teeth to keep from crying out with the startling friction. 

‘I believe my trousers will bear the imprint of your lovely womanhood when the weather clears and we leave this place. Do you mark me as your territory? I am honoured.’

His insinuation made her pussy even slicker, and she was sure he was right. She was making a sticky mess of the front of his trousers. She rubbed herself against him taking in the size of him beneath the soft black fabric, and he grunted hard and shuddered at her efforts. ‘Maybe you should take them off, save embarrassing stains and allow me a little more of that body heat you’re so generous with.’

He offered her a wicked smile. “My dear, my delicate bare bottom is no more fond of sitting on cold slate than is yours, but perhaps we can find an acceptable compromise.’ He ran a hand between them, jostling her slightly in his efforts to open his fly, releasing his cock and heavy balls. The whimper that escaped her lips was involuntary as she pressed upward to renegotiate for space.

He held her gaze. ‘Are you certain this is what you desire?’

‘Aren’t you?’ She raked herself against him once more, and he shuddered.

‘I am. Very much.’

She was relieved. She had never been more sure of anything in her life. She didn’t know why that should be. Perhaps it had something to do with the burning ache at her centre that had awakened again and crawled up over her sex, up the vertebrates of her spine like an eruption of rising sparks. She scrambled to reposition, her bare feet pressing onto the chilled slate until he lifted her bottom. She tugged at the length of him, shifting her hips as his thumb brushed open her pussy lips. ‘Oh my dear, you are very ready, indeed,’ he breathed. ‘Such soft luscious wetness.’

She nipped his neck impatiently and squirmed around the probing of his fingers.

‘Then I shan’t keep you waiting.’ With practised ease he pressed the head of his penis upward until it exerted a firm pressure against her slippery hole. Then he shifted his hips, and with a quick thrust he slid home.

‘Oh my God,’ she forced her words between her teeth. The fire flared inside her with a feverish heat that made her feel as though she would self-combust, then it steadied itself like the flame adjusted in a lantern. ‘You’re big,’ she sighed.

He moved a hand forward to rake and circle the urgent rising of her clit. ‘I have been told that I am not inadequate. I haven’t hurt you, have I? It was not my intention, but you appeared so anxious for me to penetrate your tenderness that I was loath to keep you waiting.’

In truth, it had hurt, but the sudden gush of pussy juices at the ridiculously romantic and chivalrous way he spoke went a long way to ease the pain of accommodation. She imagined he could pick up more than a few chicks at the local by talking that way. But then again, she could hardly picture Anderson chatting up women at the pub while the footie blared on the big screen. She wrapped her arms around his neck and shifted against him. ‘My tenderness hasn’t been penetrated in awhile, that’s all. I’ll adapt.’

‘I shall do my best to make adapting pleasurable for you,’ he said, holding her gaze as though just by looking in her eyes he could tell how her body was responding to his heft, to his tweaking and tugging at her clit. Eye contact was hardly necessary for him to tell that he was getting the job done and very nicely at that. Still the feel of his gaze provided its own kind of stimulation, dark molasses eyes studied her, warmed her, took her into him as surely as she had taken his cock.