Page 2 of His Stormy Seduction
My rescuer finally reaches my pinned position, anchoring himself to the boulders with one arm while extending the other to me.
"Can you grab on?" he shouts.
I mutely shake my head, gesturing down at where my right foot is pinned. A look of grim determination settles over his chiseled features.
“What’s your name?” he shouts.
My brow furrows, thinking it’s a strange time for introductions. But I answer anyway. “Bonnie.”
“Bonnie, I’m Garrett,” he says, even as the water surges around him. “And I’m going to get you out of here.” Then, with a heave of his broad shoulders, he ducks beneath the surface.
I feel a sudden shifting of the weight against my leg as Garrett’s powerful frame works to dislodge the rock. My breath catches in my throat as I wait with bated anticipation... until finally, the pressure releases.
His head breaks through the surface again, his red-gold hair plastered to his forehead. "Now!"
Not needing to be told twice, I instantly release my grip on the boulder and throw myself toward him. His arm snakes around my waist like a steel vise, crushing me against his solid frame as he turns to start fighting back toward the bank.
Up close like this, I finally get a good look at my savior as we battle the rapids together. He's ruggedly handsome, with a chiseled jawline and intense eyes. I drink in every impressively sculpted inch of him—the powerful build, the corded arms and shoulders, the roped muscle shifting beneath his soaked shirt with each movement. My god, the sheer masculine dominance rolling off this man is utterly intoxicating.
If he’s the last thing I see, then I’m going to go out enjoying every second.
Thankfully, though, he manages to tow us back to the bank. By the time we finally claw our way onto dry land, my lungs are searing and every muscle is screaming from sheer exhaustion.
We collapse in a tangled, gasping heap, our ragged breaths mingling as we lay there trying to catch our breath. Garrett rolls onto his back, chest heaving, and I can't tear my eyes away from the rippling ridges of his abdomen, that dusting of golden hair trailing down from the hollow of his throat...
I give my head a mental shake, trying to dislodge the inappropriate and extremely inconvenient rush of lust currently fogging up my brain. This is hardly the time or place.
My gaze lifts back up to meet his as those dark eyes take in my soaked, bedraggled state. A heavy, electric tension in the air has every nerve-ending tingling.
A deafening boom of thunder finally shatters the trance. We both startle at the sound, Garrett surging upright. His eyes narrow at the sky, jaw clenching.
"Can you walk?" he asks gruffly.
"Y-yeah... I think so," I manage to gasp out, giving my leg an experimental flex. A little battered and bruised, but nothing broken.
He nods, then rises, extending his hand to haul me upright. "We need to get out of this storm and find shelter. Can you keep up?"
Despite the brusque words, there's an undercurrent of gentle concern in that deep timbre. It sends a shiver skating down my rain-chilled spine, completely at odds with the authoritative command behind the question.
Straightening my shoulders, I meet that penetrating stare head-on. "Lead the way, Rambo."
The faintest ghost of a smirk quirks the corner of his mouth—the first hint of anything other than grim stoicism. He gives another curt nod, then turns to lead us into the trees just as the skies finally unleash their torrent.
I fall in behind that broad-shouldered frame, my camera still clutched protectively against my chest. Somehow, even after coming within a hairsbreadth of losing my life, all I can think about is how incredible the light and textures are with this downpour... and the tantalizing way his rain-soaked shirt clings to those powerful muscles.
A reckless thrill rushes through me as I hurry after my ruggedly handsome rescuer, eager to see what other adventures—and temptations—this wild journey has in store.
Chapter 2
Garrett
Icy needles of rain lash against my face and exposed arms, quickly soaking through my shirt to plaster it against my skin. I can hear Bonnie's footsteps splashing along behind me as we hurry deeper into the evergreen forest.
My eyes constantly scan our surroundings, that hyper-awareness ingrained from years of search and rescue operations kicking into overdrive. These mountains are as breathtaking as they are unforgiving—one missed step or poor judgment call, and it could all be over in a heartbeat.
The memory of the last time I made that mistake slams into me like a sledgehammer to the gut.
Dad's panicked shouts echoing across the ravine as the ground crumbled out from under him and the other climbers...