Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) (11 page)

I sighed. “I was
afraid.”

“Of…?”

“You.” I felt
Jason tense, his lips stilling on my neck, and rushed to explain. “I mean,
saying ‘do whatever you need to do to survive’ and actually being cool with me
making out with some other guy so I could steal his gun are two entirely
different things. And then the thing with Gabe, I—it terrified me every time I
thought about telling you.”

“But you did tell
me.”

I laughed, a dry,
bitter sound. “I had to. I—the secrets, the guilt—I couldn’t be around you
without thinking about the things I
wasn’t
telling you.”
Like about
your mom.
I took a deep breath, still not sure I would ever tell him about
her, because despite how understanding Jason was being about the other secrets
I’d divulged, I wasn’t worried the one about his mom would break us; I feared
it would break
him
. “At first, I thought you were pulling away. I thought
you’d changed your mind, that you didn’t want to be
us
. But it wasn’t
you; it was me.” I tried to sit up, intending to turn around so I could see his
face, but his arms tensed, holding me in place.

I had no choice
but to relax back against him. “I was distancing myself from you without
realizing what I was doing, and once I
did
realize it, I knew I had to,
you know, confess…because I missed you. I
miss
you.”

Jason made a
rough noise low in his throat. He raised his head, and the hand holding my jaw
moved lower, his strong fingers dancing along the side of my neck. “Did either
of them touch you here?”

“Yes,” I
whispered.

His lips replaced
his fingers, a searing brand on that sensitive skin. His hand moved lower,
dipping under the collar of my sweater. His fingertips traced the edge of my
bra. “And here?”

“Just a”—my voice
hitched as he pushed the thin fabric out of the way, his fingertips trailing a
blaze of pleasure—“just a little…bit.”

His lips, still
on my neck, curved, and imagining his possessive smile was like lighter fluid on
my burning desire. The arm he’d wrapped around my middle shifted lower, his
hand slipping under the hem of my sweater. He ran charged fingertips up and
down my side, from my hip up to my bra and back. “And here?”

“I—I don’t—”

That hand, those
fingertips, moved to my stomach, sliding ever so lightly over the skin of my
lower abdomen, just above the waistband of my jeans, and I whimpered. Jason’s
responding chuckle was so knowing, so male, so heated. “Here?”

Breaths coming
faster, I shook my head. My hand clutched his thigh in an effort to stave off my
mounting, needy ache.

Jason popped the
top button on my pants, then drew the zipper down more slowly than I would have
thought possible. My hips lifted off the ground, seeking, wanting.

He tsked me.
“Patience, Red.”

With a low groan,
I moved my hand higher up on his thigh. His arousal showed in the unmistakable
hardness pressed against my lower back.

My hand was just
below his pocket when he stopped unzipping. “No, Red.”

The fingers on my
breast pinched in a way that would have hurt had I not been so painfully
aroused. The pleasure-pain earned another whimper from me.

“Just feel.” He
lowered the zipper the rest of the way with a quick jerk. “Close your eyes and
just feel.”

Thankfully, he
stopped teasing. He thrust his hand into my pants, and I groaned, and again my
hips lifted off the ground. I shifted my hand closer to his knee, my fingertips
digging into his jeans. To say my body ached for him would be a gross
understatement.

“Jason…please. I
need…”

He laughed, low
and rough, then shoved that final barrier out of the way. “Tell me if I’m
hurting you,” he said as he finally gave me what I craved. Remotely, I
registered that he had to be talking about my arm, but at that moment, with his
fingers doing such tantalizing things between my legs, I really didn’t care. His
fingers were
everywhere
in the most delicious ways. Mounting pleasure
was my whole world.

I gasped as
Jason’s touch hurtled me off the top of a mountain of bliss, and I was
free-falling into heaven, or maybe into hell.

I lay in his arms
for minutes, breathing hard and basking in the afterglow. Craning my neck, I peered
up at his shadowed face. “So you’re not mad?”

“No, Red,” Jason
laughed. “All the proof I need that you’re still mine is right here.” His
forearm flexed, and he did something with his fingers that sent echoes of
pleasure through my body.

I moaned and
arched against him, but in my chest, a very different ache blossomed.
I want
more than this…more than lust,
I didn’t say.
I want you to love me,
because I love you
,
I didn’t say, despite feeling it in my
every cell.

With a satisfied exhale,
Jason withdrew his hands from my pants and shirt and quickly refastened my
jeans. His powerful arms wrapped around my middle, and he rose, bringing me up
with him.

Once I was on my
feet, I turned and slipped my hand under the hem of his t-shirt, tracing the
outline of his abs. I moved my hand lower, fully intending to return the
pleasure he’d just lavished upon my body.

He caught my
wrist in an iron grip before I reached the top button of his jeans. Shaking his
head, he said, “Let’s go to bed.”

My eyebrows drew
together. “But…don’t you want”—I glanced lower on his body—“you know…?”

Leaning down so
his lips brushed my ear, he laughed huskily. “More than anything. But we can’t
risk me nulling everyone; it’s too dangerous. Ky’s keeping watch, but without
his Ability…” I felt him shake his head. “After what happened last time, I’m
not willing to risk it for anything…not until I know we’re safe.”

I flushed. Last
time we’d really been together, he’d lost control of his Ability—nulling the
general area, as usual—and I’d been abducted. “Oh, right. If you’re sure…”

He shifted,
trailing his lips along my jawline until he pressed a gentle, almost chaste
kiss against my lips. “I am. And trust me, Red—it’ll be worth the wait.”

I’m sure,
I thought.
But I want more than that,
too
.

Jason captured my
hand and led me back to camp. We retreated into our tent, where Jack was
already waiting for us, and settled into our sleeping bags—closer to each other
now, but still far enough apart that Jason wouldn’t accidentally hurt my arm
while we slept. Jason was asleep within minutes, his breathing deep and even,
and not long after, Jack snuggled close on my other side. He inhaled deeply,
exhaled in a sigh, and was out.

I watched Jason, studied
the way the moon shadows played over the sharp angles and planes of his face
and softened the harshness of his scar, until sleep tugged my eyelids closed.
But my mind refused to give in to the coaxing pull, despite my body being
utterly exhausted and more relaxed than it had been in weeks. I lay there,
willing myself to fall asleep.

After an hour or
two of trying, I gave up. I opened my mind, seeking out a companion for the wee
hours of the morning. Wings was napping in the pasture, and thousands of other
creatures were slinking and scurrying through the field around camp, but none
of them were the mind I sought.

Finally, I found
Ray, perched on one of the top branches of a lodgepole pine a few miles away.
The falcon fluffed her feathers in anticipation as I relaxed into her mind. She
spread her wings and launched into the night before I was fully detached from
my own body, and I felt myself exhale a sigh of relief.

Yes! This is
what I need.

9

ZOE

MARCH 31, 1AE

Great Basin Desert, Utah

My heart raced, and my body
trembled with a thrilling sort of panic; an aria of desire and excitement and
fear sung through me, sensations so raw and real it was as if I was feeling
them for the first time.

He braced me up against a wall,
a woolen blanket the only thing sparing me from the hard surface of the rough,
wooden slats. Momentarily, my eyes flitted open. I was in a barn washed in the
pale dawn light seeping in between wood planks.

A low, possessive groan preceded
his hot breath, burning against my neck. I shuddered as instinct took over, and
my eyes closed again. He trailed urgent kisses along my jaw before finding my mouth,
his lips both soft and bruising. His hot body against mine sent a curling
ribbon of anticipation spiraling through me.

How could something so wild
feel so right?

A throbbing need flooded my
insides, filling even my deepest, most forgotten hollows. It was nearly too
much to bear as his strong fingers knotted in my hair, his silken tongue burning
against my skin, and I could feel his muscles flexing with every determined
thrust of his body. His fingertips explored my curves, leaving fire trails in
their wake and setting my body ablaze with an appetite for something I didn’t
understand but desperately wanted to fulfill.

A devastatingly greedy hunger
rippled through me, and my immediate fears and uncertainties vanished as I let
all my inhibitions go. Feeling so full and overwhelmed with lust, I gripped him
closer and struggled to catch my breath…

He thrust, and I cried
out.

Feeling awakened and near
bursting with a coiling, aching fever I thought might bring me to my knees if I
didn’t give in, I shuddered against him, holding on for dear life as the
world dissolved around me. And as though my body couldn’t contain the roiling sensations
a moment longer, my insides swelled with a pulsating intoxication that left me
near tears.

I was falling…losing myself in
a swirling blackness of passion.

“Jake…”

Starting awake, my insides still
clenched in wanting and my heart nearly jumping out of my sweat-dampened chest,
I looked around the tent’s interior. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves.
I’d expected to see Becca still asleep beside me, but thankfully, I was alone.
Did
I oversleep?

Hearing hushed whispers outside by
the campfire, and with only dim light filling the tent, I assumed it was still
early morning. I sighed in relief. This dream, like the many I’d been having as
of late, seemed so real that I felt like I was losing my mind—or, rather, like I
might be finding it again. I ran my fingers through my hair and lay back down,
heaving a sigh of relief that I was alone in the tent. I couldn’t imagine what
Becca might’ve overheard had she been asleep beside me.
Get a grip, Zoe.

I unzipped my sleeping bag and let
the cool air assault my exposed skin. Although my arms were covered by long
sleeves, I’d been growing too warm most nights, and had decided shorts were a
better option. As I sat there in the brisk spring chill, I realized the dreams
were most likely the cause of my body’s confusion. I shivered, welcoming the
distraction, and I hoped it would help stir me awake and out of my apparent sex
fog.

My dreams had become more frequent
and so much more…
real
. As a result, it was increasingly difficult to be
around Jake—to look at him and not see his hard, naked body and the hunger
illuminating his copper eyes that I saw so frequently in my sleep. As long as
we weren’t too close or touching, I found it easy to be around him. But when I
came close enough that I could feel his longing for the woman I’d once been, I
was torn. I wasn’t her, I likely never would be again, and I wasn’t sure how he
was going to deal with that when he finally accepted it.

Determined to get my day started,
I dug through my duffel and pulled out a set of clean clothes. After unfurling
my favorite black t-shirt, I shook the wrinkles out of it and pulled it over my
head. Amused, I considered how foreign my clothes had felt to me a little over
a week ago, and that at some point I’d deemed a knee-high pair of soft, pink
socks, the black, well-worn t-shirt, and a pair of snug, faded blue jeans my
favorite ensemble. Had that always been the case? Given the fact that I’d been a
gallery assistant of sorts like Jake had said, I highly doubted it.

Standing as straight as was
possible in the two-person tent that was Becca’s and my current bedroom, I
tugged my jeans up, pausing as my eyes lingered on the tattoo on my hip. I’d
often wondered why, of all things, I’d decided to get a Celtic knot inked on my
skin—the same Celtic knot I’d apparently painted on pretty much all of my
worldly possessions.
What does it mean?
I’d seen its twin on the inside
of Dani’s left wrist when Harper had been examining her broken arm. I’d wanted
to ask her about it on numerous occasions. I knew, deep down, that it was
important to us, that it symbolized something that I would probably never fully
comprehend, but I wanted to at least try.

Unzipping the side pocket of my
bag, I pulled out my brush, running it through my hair before tossing it back
down. Jake’s voice rumbled in the still air outside my tent, and I froze,
listening and waiting. I wasn’t sure I had gathered my wits enough to see him
just yet. Straining to listen, I heard his heavy, unhurried footsteps dawdle by
what I assumed was the fire pit. He chuckled softly at something one of the
other campers whispered, and I heard a folding chair creak beneath his powerful
body. The image of his strong, possessive arms wrapped around me flashed in my
mind, and I groaned.

Searching the side pocket of my
bag for my toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste, another smoldering image of his
fingers gripping my hair flashed in my mind. Despite my efforts to explore the
comet trail of desire and curiosities left behind by my frequent dreamy
sexcapades, it was proving difficult to find my backbone when it came to
initiating anything between Jake and me. The pressure to be
her
,
and the fear that I would
grossly disappoint him, trumped all of my own intentions and desires.

Finally, I found my toothbrush and
toothpaste and grabbed my bomber jacket before steadying myself to leave my
safety zone. Unzipping the tent, I stepped out into the chilly morning and let
the cool, high-desert air assault my hyperaware senses.

So as not to be rude, I glanced
over at Jason and Jake, who were sipping their morning coffee by the fire.
“Good morning.”

Jake’s back was to me, but Jason’s
wasn’t. My brother looked exhausted, but who wouldn’t be after having second
watch—scouting the camp perimeter while the rest of us slept soundly in our
tents. Jason nodded at me and Jake craned his neck as I passed by.

“Morning,” they said in unison.

Under the heat of Jake’s stare, I
couldn’t help but blush.
Can he tell I just woke up from a scandalous dream
about him?
The way my face reddened and I fumbled around whenever he was
nearby, I assumed it was nearly impossible for him not to notice how much his
presence affected me.

I walked over to the water station
Sarah and I had set up on the back of the temporarily nonoperational and very
rickety covered wagon. Taking a couple days of respite while Jake and Jason
worked on repairing it was a welcome break from long days of boring riding; it
allowed everyone—horses and riders alike—time to rest and gave me the
opportunity to appreciate the expansive high desert landscape that surrounded
us.

I dipped a small, plastic cup into
a galvanized tub of water, filling it as much as I could before heading over to
the washing station a few yards away. I stopped at the folding table set up
near a small cliff that overlooked a canyon, stuck my toothbrush inside the
water cup to wet the bristles, and squeezed on a healthy dose of much-needed
minty paste.

Appreciating the small luxuries, I
brushed my teeth, grateful to carry out such a mundane task with such a
spectacularly eerie view. With the sun illuminating the dense fog that settled
between the towering sandstone mesas scattered below our camp, it was like the
fog acted as a barrier between two worlds—two realities.

I
felt like
I
was caught between two
realities—the one I’d awoken in after the incident at the golf course, and the
one I
should’ve
been in.

“Did you sleep well?”

I jumped mid-brush and pivoted
around to find Jake wandering up behind me. His coffee mug was dwarfed in his
large hand as he took a sip. His eyes met mine briefly before shifting to my
mouth and back. Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze as he tried not to
laugh. “You have some toothpaste…right here,” he said and pointed to the corner
of his mouth.

Mortified, I hurriedly wiped away
the white, pasty foam with my sleeve.

“
Did
you sleep well?” He
stepped past me, his gaze fixed on the canyon surrounding us.

When he looked back at me,
expecting an answer, I nodded. With a final quick brush, I spit over the edge
of the cliff. “You?”

Amused, Jake watched me as I swished
around a final mouthful of water. “Jason and I had second watch last night,” he
said.

I spit again. “Oh, right. How was
it?”

He shrugged and took a step toward
me, a crooked smile parting his lips. “I found something I want to show you,”
he said, bringing his hand up to my cheek. Unbidden, images from my dream
flashed through my mind, and once again I felt a thrilling sense of panic. With
the pad of his thumb, he wiped away what I assumed were the final remnants of
my morning routine.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling
self-conscious under the weight of his stare.

His smile broadened. “What are you
doing today?”

I grabbed the jacket I’d hung over
some sagebrush and shrugged it on before gathering my things. “Umm, after
breakfast, I was going to practice some more with Sam and Tavis. I think I’m
finally starting to get a teensy bit better with the whole archery thing.”

“Good,” he said.

“I’m free after that, unless you
want to help me with my self-defense again.” I gave him a playful flutter of my
eyelashes. “Because last time worked out so well…”

Jake grinned and rubbed the side
of his face like he could still feel where I’d smacked him. “Jason and I need
to put the front wheel back on the wagon, but we can practice after.”

“Perfect,” I said, and we started
walking back toward camp. “So you guys figured it out then? Whatever was wrong
with the wheel, I mean.”

Jake stopped just outside camp,
dumping the final remnants of coffee from his mug out on the dirt. “I think so.
We tweaked a few things, so hopefully it’ll help.”

“Well, that’s good news,” I said,
smiling at Sarah as she waddled past us. “I’m gonna help Sarah with breakfast.
Come find me later?”

Jake studied me, his expression bordering
on amused. “You got it,” he said, and I felt a surge of hope as he walked back
toward the fire pit.

Dropping my things off at my tent,
I headed over to Sarah, who was bustling around by the food tubs as she
gathered her morning ingredients. “What can I do?” I asked, ready to be put to
work.

She glanced over at me. “Hey,
Zoe.” She flashed a bubbly smile, an expression I’d come to rely on each
morning. “Can you wash and chop the potatoes for me? Pretty please, with extra
chocolate syrup?”

A laugh burst from my mouth, and I
felt the tension Jake had inspired in my body instantly ease. “Cheap shot,
Sarah,” I said, shaking my head with feigned regret. “I never should’ve told
you about my chocolate addiction.”

She batted her eyelashes at me for
show and offered me another silly smile. “The potatoes…?”

“Of course I’ll chop potatoes,” I
said, sidestepping around her to the oversized basket of what was left of the
potatoes we’d brought with us from Colorado Trails. “I’m assuming we’re gonna
need all of them, right?”

“Yes, please.”

I heaved the basket up, pausing to
figure out the best place to clean them.

“Go ahead and just use the water
in the tub, Zoe. It’ll be easier that way. I’ll ask Biggs to get us fresh water
later, after we do the dishes.”

“After
I
do the dishes. You
don’t need to be lugging around cast-iron skillets and bending over so much.” I
shook my head. “In case you forgot, you’re pregnant,” I added dryly.

“Am I? Geez, that would explain a
lot.”

I shrugged, “Just thought I’d
remind you.” I offered her a playful smile. Happy I didn’t have to lug at least
fifteen pounds of potatoes somewhere else to scrub and chop, I placed the
basket on the ground beneath the ledge of the chuck wagon, where the water tub
sat. Reaching for the large Ziplock bag of sponges, SOS pads, and miscellaneous
brushes tucked inside one of the wagon’s little cubbies, I picked through the
contents before choosing a palm-size bristle brush and began scrubbing.