1941002110 (R) by Lynn Raye Harris

balance and tripped along with Chase through the night. She was very conscious of his hand on hers, though she told herself it was nothing. He was hauling her along beside him, making sure she didn’t stop or slow. There was nothing more to it than that—but the pressure of his hand, the feel of his skin, still made an impact on her senses.
    She ignored her aching knee, the stitch in her side, and the muscle spasms in her left arch. Chase wasn’t going to slow down for any of that—and she didn’t want him to. She couldn’t hear the dog anymore, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t back there. It might not be a tracking dog at all—maybe it was a hunter’s dog or a stray—but she didn’t want to stop and find out.
    They pounded through the night, feet slapping into puddles, Chase’s hand still firm on hers. She wasn’t cold anymore. She was hot, sweating, and she wanted nothing more than to stop and rest for a while.
    She was ready to collapse, certain she couldn’t make it another inch, but he kept pulling her forward, relentlessly driving her toward something. And then he stopped, and she was so accustomed to running that she kept going and jerked up short, tripping when he snatched her backward and into his arms.
    She went immediately still, her back pressed to his front. She was breathing so hard, her blood pounding in her veins and her ears, that she couldn’t hear a damn thing except her own breath razoring in and out of her lungs.
    Chase had an arm around her, across her breasts, his hand gripping her waist, holding her tightly to him. Her body was exhausted, and yet a new feeling began to drip into her system. His chest swelled against her back as he dragged in air, though he wasn’t panting anywhere near as hard as she was. His entire body was hard as stone. He was a pillar against which she could rest, and she let her body melt just a little.
    His breath gusted in her ear, and a shiver rippled down her spine. Goose bumps rose on her neck, her arms, and her nipples tightened.
    “We have to wait here,” he told her, his voice barely a whisper. “Not long.”
    She nodded, her skin prickling and tingling. It was as if he’d nibbled the shell of her ear when in fact he’d done no such thing. But try telling her body that as parts of her that had no business being awake right now decided to respond.
    Her nipples were tight little points now. And then there were the itchy, achy, gotta-have-it sensations zipping around in her nether regions. She turned her head to ask him what they were waiting for, but his face was still near her ear and her mouth hit his jaw—and maybe part of his lips. She gasped, and he stiffened.
    When she would have jerked away, he held her tightly and wouldn’t let her go. He shifted so his face wasn’t there anymore, so her mouth wasn’t touching him, but he didn’t let her escape the prison of his embrace.
    She was already hot from the run, but her face flamed even hotter. God, what must he think? She was certain she was the only one who felt this odd sexual heat. If he had felt it, she knew he’d let her go like a hot potato. No, pretty much the only thing he felt for her was anger and disdain.
    Her ears throbbed with heat, but the pounding of her blood was beginning to subside enough that she could make out other sounds. One of those sounds became tires on pavement. She turned, searching for the road—and then she saw it, a dark, wet ribbon stretching into the night.
    An SUV came around a corner, headlights shining bright. And then they went out and the parking lights shone for a second. On again, off, on.
    “That’s our ride,” Chase said, easing away from her and starting down the embankment that lay before them.
    “How can you be sure?”
    He turned to look at her. “Would you rather stay here and wait for the dogs to catch up?”
    Sophie gulped. And then she took the plunge over the side of the embankment, her wet boots squelching as she hurried to catch Chase