Don't Explain (7 page)

Michael put his hand under her elbows and across her back and lifted her
at her knees. He cautiously carried her to large, flat-topped rock nearby and
placed her on top. He dropped to one knee beside her and began unlacing her
right boot, but she protested, “I'm okay. I just need a minute.”

He looked at her incredulously and continued to work. He placed her foot
on his raised knee and looked at it intently. “I think it is just sprained, but
I want to splint it anyway.”

He put her sock back on and grabbed a nearby stick. He looked through his
pack, and with Caitlyn's permission, her pack, but failed to find anything to
tie the ankle. He then took off his jacket, his sweatshirt, and finally his
white undershirt.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying not to stare.

“Making a splint,” he answered as he tore the undershirt into two pieces.
He tied the stick to her leg with the scraps of fabric.

She stared at his bare chest. She was tempted to reach out and run her
fingers along the curves of his well-defined pecs, arms, and stomach, but she barely
managed to restrain herself. “This is really unnecessary,” she commented
dazedly.

“Only if you want to hurt it further,” he replied. He finished with her
ankle and placed her boot in his pack; he put his sweatshirt back on and
grabbed the packs, slinging them both over his right shoulder. “Can you walk,
or should I carry you?”

“I think I can make it. Thank you.”

“I'll check your ankle again when we get back to lodge to make sure that
it is just a sprain. We may have to take you to the emergency room.”

She was happy to be out of the spotlight for the moment and could not
stand to be coddled by him any longer. Despite the immense throbbing in her
ankle, his attention was sending arousing tingles through the rest of her body,
and she felt herself becoming impulsive.

The trip managed to cool her off. Caitlyn hobbled down the side of the
mountain; she cringed in pain every once and a while, and for the majority of
the trip Michael had to support her. Her face was flushed from the exertion and
a little from embarrassment. She cursed herself for suggesting this trip; she
thought it would be relaxing, but now she was more stressed out than before.
She would really hate a trip to the emergency room, and she didn't want to
inconvenience Michael any more than she already had. He wanted a vacation, and
she had made him work. The worry on her face was showing and Michael noticed. “You
shouldn't worry so much. Large amounts of stress can cause a number of health
problems. Many a lot worse than a sprained ankle.”

“I've absolutely ruined your vacation.”

He stopped, and since he was supporting her, she was forced to stop too.
He looked her straight in the eyes and said, “It wasn’t a vacation until I ran
into you.”

Caitlyn stood in silence. The warm feeling started to arise in her again.
She tried to calm her mind, but the look in his eyes prevented any pure
thoughts. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it away from her face.
He traced the side of her face from her temple to her chin with the side of his
finger and held her chin in his hand. He slowly leaned down and kissed her, at
first gently and then deeply. Caitlyn relaxed and kissed him back. For a moment
they caressed one another’s lips, and then Michael pulled away and looked down
at her and said, “It wasn't faux intimacy.” He kissed her once again, but this
time quickly and nonchalantly, and then slipped his arm around Caitlyn’s waist,
guiding her down the path as she staggered beside him.

Thousands of questions raced through Caitlyn's mind, but she dared not
ask them. She chose not to spoil this moment as she had the evening before, and
despite the pain in her ankle, she considered the recent moments as some of the
best of her life.

When they reached the lodge, Michael looked at Caitlyn's ankle and
determined that his original diagnosis had been correct. He removed the
makeshift splint and looked at her with a serious expression.

“It looks like I am going to have to stick around for a while to nurse
you back to health.”

“Don't be ridiculous. It's just a sprain. I can deal. Besides I thought
you were a doctor not a nurse.”

“And if I want to stay but am using your ankle as an innocent excuse?” he
questioned.

“I guess I could use a little help,” she replied shyly.

“Let's get you home. You need to rest your leg for a while.”

#

When they arrived at Caitlyn's, she remembered that her house was
incredibly messy. This was partly due to the day before when she was looking
for the perfect outfit for dinner, but she had recently become lackadaisical when
it came to cleaning her personal space. It was part of her scheme to keep men
away. She was mortified, but she soon came to the realization that Michael didn't
notice the mess at all. He had carried her from the car to her couch, wrapped
her ankle in an elastic bandage, started a small fire in the stone fireplace,
and set off to the kitchen. He was engrossed in his task and was oblivious to
anything else. He poked around her refrigerator and then rummaged through the
cabinets until he found suitable items. He began sautéing something; the burn
of onions, peppers, and spices soon filled the air.

While he was cooking, Caitlyn changed out of her hiking clothes and into
a long, baggy, cream-colored sweater that stopped mid-thigh. The seam of her
navy blue cheer shorts was barely visible at the bottom, drawing attention to
her long, smooth legs.

She limped around the living room as she attempted to clean up a bit, but
eventually gave up and lay on the couch. She began reading a novel. Her glasses
were perched at the end of her nose and her legs playfully draped over the arm
of the couch. The rest of her body was propped up by pillows.

Within fifteen minutes Michael walked out of the kitchen carrying two
plates stacked with chicken fajitas. When he saw Caitlyn on the couch, he had to
stop and catch his breath. His eyes crawled from her toes all the way up her bare,
milky legs to the point where the sweater rested on her upper thigh. He could
see her creamy skin peeking through the knitting. He had a strong urge to put the
food back in the kitchen and run his hand along the curves of her body. He
wanted to throw the sweater aside and reveal all to his sight. Blood rushed
through him until his resistance was wasted, and he was undoubtedly aroused.

Caitlyn sat up and flung her legs to a normal sitting position when she
noticed Michael standing in the doorway. He made his way over to the couch and
set the plates on the coffee table in front of them. She clapped her hands
excitedly and grabbed her plate. “This looks delicious. How did you make
something so quickly? I can't wait to eat.” She was rambling, but he didn't
notice. He hadn't even realized that she asked him a question. He was too
focused on the inviting movements of her body.

 He went back to the kitchen, and when he came back, he had a bottle of
merlot and two glasses. Caitlyn ate quickly, not realizing how hungry she had
been, but she made sure to savor the wine. Michael ate slowly and distractedly.
He was no longer interested in dinner.

The fire crackled nearby as the flames reached pockets of sap in the
logs. Caitlyn thanked Michael for the dinner and placed her plate on the coffee
table. As he mimicked her movement, she laid her head on the arm of the couch
and closed her eyes.

He looked at her longingly. He could not restrain himself anymore and
leaned in. He raised his hand and brushed his fingers through her long, silky
hair. Grabbing the back of her head, he pulled her close to him. She could
taste the tannins of the wine on his lips as he kissed her hard. Caitlyn kissed
him back softly, and he quickly followed her lead. Shivers went up and down her
spine as he grazed the nape of her neck with his fingers. For a moment, she
pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “Michael,” she started to protest. She
wanted this, but not if it was only to satisfy his lust or distract him from
his heartache. But lust was not in his eyes—passion was. Caitlyn felt a
tingling as she placed her lips on his again.

He laid her head back on the arm and carefully positioned himself so that
he was lying next to her. His rough stubble rubbed against her soft skin as he
breathed softly into her ear. She let out a soft moan as his right hand slid to
her bare thigh, and he began running his fingers over it gently.

Michael's fervor became apparent when he placed his hand on her side,
just underneath her sweater and pulled her tight against him. She could feel
his muscles through his shirt as she grabbed hold of him. The warm skin of her
stomach felt his cool, rough hand gliding up towards her breasts; she held her
breath in anticipation, but before he reached her chest his hand slid back down
her side. Caitlyn yearned for more.

Caitlyn tugged off her sweater and threw it on the floor. She lay before
Michael in a white bra with a pink ribbon lining the cup and a bow between her
breasts, and her little shorts. Michael sat up and stared at his reward while Caitlyn
attempted to look her best in a nonchalant way. He slowly lowered the straps
from her shoulders and kissed her neckline. He slipped his fingers into the
bands of her shorts and panties, and slowly pushed them off her hips. Shuddering
in a deep breath, Caitlyn let Michael completely expose her body to him. Lying
before him felt strange, but she did not complain. Instead, she began
undressing him. She pulled his naked body against hers and rose into him with
the feel of their bare skin touching. Her center throbbed with desire for him. Both
let out a gasp of relief as he plunged into her soft, wet folds.

The tingling in Caitlyn's body immediately turned to a bursting warmth.
She dug her fingers into his strong back and tenderly bit his shoulder to keep
from crying out with passion as he pushed into her over and over. Michael lifted
himself on his arms, hovering over her, and looked into her eyes. Caitlyn felt
the rush up her torso and through her limbs. She cried out as he covered her
mouth with his.

She wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him more forcefully into
her as she pulsated around his shaft. He kept pushing into her, and she could
barely stand the overwhelming sensation coursing through her veins.

“Michael.”

“It’ll be okay. You can do it. Just hang on a little longer for me.”

“But I…”

“Shh…One more time. You can do it one more time.”

He slowed his movements and glided into her smoothly. Teasing her,
slowing her breath. He stared down into her eyes. “You ready now.”

Caitlyn nodded, and he pushed harder and faster against her. Her sense
heightened again and they felt the surge of euphoria rush through their bodies.
 

Caitlyn breathed heavily as she lifted herself off of Michael. Her body
tingled all over and aftershocks radiated through her body. Any touch was
nearly unbearable and caused her to laugh uncontrollably.

She tried to get up to pull herself together, but the weight on her foot
made her sit down right next to Michael. He caressed her shoulder, and she was
finally able to hold back her giggles.

“Where do you think you're going?” he inquired.

She smiled at him innocently. “I was going to go put myself back
together.”

“Don't,” he commanded still eyeing her hungrily. “You've never looked
more gorgeous.”

She shied away from him, embarrassed. “I could certainly fix this.” She
waved her hands over her head to point to the sex hair she had acquired.

He pulled her close to him. “Why?” he whispered. “I'm just going to undo
all your work in a couple of minutes anyway.”

Caitlyn opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Please, no, she
thought to herself. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly and turned her head to
the left. If she was lucky, she dreamed the last two days, and she was
incredibly late for work. She forced her eyes open, and Michael lay next her,
sleeping.

“”What have I done?” She dragged her palms across her face. Caitlyn knew
exactly why she had stopped him that first night. It was this sinking feeling
in her gut. The one that she never really wanted to feel again. The one that
threatened to make her vomit, but also the one she—somewhere deep down—craved.

“Are you okay?”

She looked over at Michael. “Fine, but I need a shower. You keep sleeping
if you want.”

“Can I join you?”

She’d better stop this now. “My shower’s pretty tiny. It’ll be better if
we take turns.”

Caitlyn grabbed the small blanket that she kept on top of a chest at the
end of her bed and wrapped it around herself.

“There’s no reason to be modest,” Michael teased.

Caitlyn laughed but secured the blanket around herself as best she could
and tiptoed across the cold floor to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
She turned on the water and immediately stepped in, not waiting for the water
to warm up.

The threat of falling in love with Michael again was too strong. There
was still time to undo what they had done all night, but she had to figure out
a way to get rid of him—quickly, while she was acting like a rational human
being and not some horny Neanderthal.