He banked the fire, taking his time. In time, he knew, his body would settle enough for him to sleep, but there was no telling how long it would take. He was in for a rough night. If he was home, a cold shower would do him a world of good. Under different circumstances, a long walk would burn some of his energy and that would help, too, but he was not about to leave her alone at the campsite. It was about backing her up, not about protecting her, though he would do that in a heartbeat. He knew from experience that she could take care of herself, and he often pitied the people who crossed her. He made up his mind during the first year of their partnership never to put himself in that predicament. She could drop a guy like a rock.
As she came out of the tent, she hesitated for a long moment, watching him work over the dying fire. She studied his broad, strong back, his dark, softly curled hair...and it took a while for her to realize just where her thoughts were. What the heck was going on with her? All right, she knew he was sexy in a raw, powerful yet understated way. She'd seen the looks women gave him...and not just women who knew him. And the looks she got were full of envy...she got a disturbing flush of pleasure from that thought. He was hers in a way no other woman could have him. He was her partner.
When her hands came to rest on his back as he bent over the fire, she damn near dropped him onto the hot coals. He sat back, away from the fire. "Sorry," she whispered against his skin as she pressed her lips into the back of his neck.
He trembled and closed his eyes, fumbling for words. "S-sorry for what?"
"I didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh. I-I thought...you were already in bed."
"No, not yet. Are you coming?"
Not any time soon...will you just shut the hell up... He swallowed hard. "Um...I..." That sounded intelligent. Where the hell did his words vanish to? It was that light caress along the back of his neck...the fingers in his hair...oh, God...she was good...damn good...
When her fingers slid into his hair, she stopped thinking. His hair was soft, probably in need of a trimming, but she didn't care about that. One hand played with his curls while the other continued to stray across the back of his neck, and she was happily content. This is all an act, her mind suddenly interjected, taunting. For both of you. It's not real, no matter how much you want it to be. He'll never let it cross that line, and neither should you.
Recalling his kiss just a little while ago, she marveled at what a good actor he was. Anyone watching them was going to be convinced; they were doing their job. She looked up at the inky sky, searching for, but not finding, a distraction among the stars.
His mind was lost in the glowing embers, his body slowly heating up as she continued to caress him. Stop her, or you really will be in a world of hurt. Like he wasn't already...he really needed some way to relieve some of his tension, and his preferred method was inaccessible to him. He needed to take a walk, at the very least...
"Look at the stars," she whispered, her mouth much closer to his ear than he expected. "How about a walk in the starlight?"
How did she do that? Could she possibly read his mind? That thought was more than disturbing. He turned his head so he could see her face. She is so damn beautiful... He was getting tired of these tangents his mind kept taking off on. He really needed to regain control over his wayward thoughts. When her lips brushed his, though, they were off again. Damn.
She gave his shoulder a gentle shove. "Come on, baby. I want you to tell me about the stars."
Oh, she was good. Earlier, when she went inside the tent after their show by the fireside, the renegade part of his mind, as fully overwhelmed as the rest of him, began the argument that he was not acting. It accused him of being in love with her. The most troubling part of the entire thought process for him was that he didn't argue about it. And right now, with her fingers continuing to stroke the back of his neck, he didn't care about any of it. He gave himself over to the sensation and a soft groan escaped from his throat. His complicated life just entered a new dimension of complexity, one he suspected was created just for him.
You really should get her to stop that...what harm can it do...do you really want an answer to that...you need to just shut up; it feels good...stop her, man, before it's too late...it's too late already, stupid... just shut the hell up...
He got to his feet, reluctantly giving in to the small voice of reason pounding in his head. He turned toward her, reaching a hand out, which she readily took. She is really getting into this role, he mused. He wondered what was going through her mind. His mind was driving him nuts.
As they left the campsite, she tightened her hand around his, stepping a half step closer to him. By stepping into his personal space, she relayed to observers an impression that a level intimacy existed between them. She found herself regretting deeply that it did not.
He responded to her by drawing her closer, letting go of her hand and sliding his arm around her. When she settled against him, he could have sworn she sighed softly. But he wasn't certain. In any event, he was glad to believe she had. He pressed his lips against her head and this time he was certain she did sigh. No one could hear it; no one would know but him. So why had she done it?
He let his mind wander, as if it gave him any choice, and while it was on hiatus, his fingers lightly stroked the skin where her shirt rode up from her shorts. He gave no conscious thought to how smooth and soft her skin was, but it registered with some corner of his mind. His hand strayed further beneath her shirt, and he did nothing to check its path. Neither did she.
Eames struggled with herself. She'd suggested this. What had she been thinking? That getting him out of the campground might get him to settle down? She'd noticed his restlessness, and she realized she didn't know what his regular nighttime routine was. She knew what it was when she was with him, but that was a deviation from his routine. She got to thinking that he had to do something regularly to release that energy or he'd never sleep. So she opted for a walk...to burn off some of his restlessness. And what did she do? She lost her mind and slid into his side. It was just an act. Now his hand was gently stroking her side, and she was enjoying it way too much. Just an act... His hand strayed beneath her shirt, along her belly... Just an act...yeah, right...
Move your hand, dumbass...no, not that way! This is not helping matters any...are you even listening to me? No, I'm not, so go away and leave me alone...okay, fine, but I won't be responsible for what happens if I do...I don't care...you're enjoying this way too much...I thought you were going away...
When his internal dispute fell silent, he nuzzled the side of her head, encouraged by a soft moan and the pressure of her hip into his thigh. God, she's going to kill me yet...I told you...shut up...
He gently nipped her ear and she gasped, turning suddenly into his arms and luring him into another kiss. Her fingers threaded into his hair and her tongue, hot and seeking, probed into his mouth. He could not suppress a deep groan. He started to pull her into his body, but the tiny remnant of sense that remained inside him convinced him not to. What the hell would she think...? No, he couldn't let her know...oh...he was so screwed...
He stepped back from the embrace, a painful but necessary motion. He struggled to regain his senses, to catch his breath. "L-let's..just go to bed," he murmured.
Had he just said that? What if she misunderstood? "I-I mean...I..." he groaned miserably. "Let's go back and go to sleep," he amended.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
If they kept on with this, he was going to lose what little control he had left, and he was afraid that would be a bigger blow to their partnership than it would be able to take. So what was he suggesting? That they go back to a friggin' tent and get undressed...and...oh, no...that tied it. He was sleeping outside tonight.
