“BRIAN?” TAYLOR’S HEART racketed in her chest as the cave suddenly became the dark, suffocating closet she’d been locked in as a child. She focused the bright stream of light from her headlamp where she thought the tunnel entrance should be and watched Brian drop onto the parachute that lay where it had fallen when he’d first entered the cave.
She hurried over to help him to his feet. “What happened?”
“A tree came down and sealed up the entrance.”
Taylor stared in horror at the smoldering, fire-blackened branches intruding through the narrow opening. “We’re trapped?”
Brian grimaced, his expression providing all the response necessary.
“Are you hurt?” she asked.
“No.” He turned to look at the blocked opening, shaking his head and swearing under his breath.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m just pissed off. I had to leave a bunch of stuff out there when that tree came down, including my ax, which I could have used to hack a way back out of here.” He hesitated, then added with disgust, “I lost the radio.”
“But you called them—”
“I didn’t have time.”
Taylor’s lungs couldn’t seem to suck air. She gasped and said, “They don’t know where we are?”
“They have the last location you gave them.”
“But we’re miles from there!”
“They’ll take that into account when they start their search.”
“How are they going to find us down here?” she cried, turning in a circle within the cave, hoping against hope for some sliver of light, some breath of fresh air. “They won’t even know there is a cave unless that tree burns up!” She crossed to Brian, focused the light on his sooty face and asked, “Is there any chance it will? Burn enough to reveal the opening, I mean?”
Brian shook his head. “Probably not. Now that it’s on the ground, once the grass around it burns away, the trunk will likely stop burning, too.”
Taylor put a hand to her heart, which was battering against her ribs. “So we’re really, truly trapped in here?”
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m cold. So cold.”
“You’re in shock.”
“I’m scared!” she retorted. “We’re trapped and it’s dark and—”
His arms closed around her, pulling her snug against powerful muscle and sinew. “We’re alive, Tag. We survived.”
“You’re trembling, too, Brian.”
“Yeah. Well. Shit. I made a jury-rigged tandem jump with you into a pea-sized meadow surrounded by fire and didn’t get either one of us killed. A grizzly attacked me, and I walked away unscathed. A tree nearly crushed me flat, but here I am. I think I’m entitled.”
She felt him quiver as he pressed his face against her neck.
“It’s just adrenaline,” he muttered, his whole body shaking uncontrollably. “Too much adrenaline.”
Her arms slid around his neck offering comfort, and she pressed her body close, seeking support in return. “I can’t believe we didn’t end up burning to cinders.”
“Yeah. Me, too. That’s kind of a nightmare of mine.”
She shuddered. They could have died. They still might. She suddenly sobbed and whispered, “Brian.”
He lifted his head to look into her eyes.
She had time to notice his pupils were dilated so wide his blue eyes were nearly black, before he shoved the light off her head. She heard it clatter to the stone beneath them and saw a splash of light hit the dirt wall as his mouth found hers. She wasn’t sure who was more desperate for the life-affirming contact, but their mouths clung as his tongue came searching for solace.
Her hands shoved at the suspenders holding up his Kevlar pants, forcing them off his shoulders, then reached for his T-shirt, yanking it up and out of the way, wanting to feel the warmth of his living flesh, proof they were both still alive.
He tore at the buttons on her shirt and thrust it off her shoulders, then released her bra clasp and removed the last thing keeping their naked bodies apart.
They stood cleaved to each other, panting.
It wasn’t close enough. Not for her. And not for him, either, because he unsnapped her jeans and shoved down the zipper, even as she tugged at his Kevlar pants, pushing them down to reach the metal buttons on his jeans. Their boots stayed on, and their trousers tangled at their ankles.
He backed her in short steps to the pile of nylon on the ground and tumbled them onto it. She felt his desperation as he stripped down her panties, even as she tore at his briefs.
A moment later he was inside her and they were joined. It was a simple confirmation that he was man, she was woman, and they were alive. The sex was carnal. Animalistic. Savage and satisfying.
She cried out, her body clenching around his as he threw his head back with a guttural sound of triumph, a vocal celebration of the simple joy of having survived.
He sank onto her, his weight surprisingly comforting, solid and strong. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him close, not wanting to let go, not wanting the moment of mindless release to end.
A moment later, he rolled onto his back and slung an arm across his face. He heaved a sigh. Started to speak. Stopped, then said, “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“I needed you. And you needed me. We needed each other, Brian.”
She suddenly felt very much alone. She wanted to reach out to him but lacked the confidence to act. The adrenaline—and fear—that had forced them together seemed to have dissipated.
She shivered, and he must have noticed, because he said, “We’d better get dressed.”
He suited word to deed. He kicked off his Kevlar pants, then pulled up his shorts and jeans, lifting his hips to get them over his butt. He stood and said, “Did you see where I threw my T-shirt?”
Taylor covered her breasts with her hands, suddenly aware of her nakedness, like Eve in the Garden of Eden, when she realized she’d sinned.
What had just happened? How had it happened? She’d just made love—had sex—with Brian Flynn!
She was staring into the darkness when she felt something drop into her lap.
“Your bra,” he said. “I’ll see if I can find your shirt.”
Well, if he wasn’t going to make a big deal about what had just happened, neither was she.
Taylor glanced at Brian to make sure his back was turned, then slipped on her bra. By the time he returned with her shirt hanging over his arm, she’d pulled up her panties and jeans and was on her feet.
“Thanks.” When she tried to take the shirt from him, he settled the lamp back on her head and held on, forcing her to look at him.
“Tag, I…I’ve heard about things like what just happened to us occurring in a crisis. I should have recognized what it was and—”
“What was it, Brian? Because it felt like pretty good sex to me.”
She saw his disappointment at her attempt to downplay their need for human contact—for each other—in such a desperate moment.
He rested his palm on her cheek. “It was comfort, Tag. Proof that we’re both still here and kicking. Nothing more.” He hesitated before adding, “And nothing less.”
She heaved a sigh. “What happened was just so…unexpected.”
“I know. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
She managed a crooked smile and said, “For what it’s worth, I’m not.”