Page 7 of His Untamed Craving

Another shiver wracks my frame as the mountain chill sinks deeper into my bones. I try to play it cool, wrapping my arms around my midsection, but Wyatt's perceptive gaze doesn't miss a thing.

"Bullshit." His deep rumble cuts through the crackling silence, equal parts amused and chastising.

I open my mouth to protest, but he's already rising to his feet. "C'mon, you're gonna freeze your ass off out here like that."

Without another word, he turns and disappears into the shadows, the faint beam of his headlamp swallowed by the night.

I sit there, dumbfounded for a beat, before scrambling to my feet and hurrying after him. "Wait, Croft—where the hell are you going?"

His low chuckle drifts back toward me as the beam of his lamp bobs into view again. "Relax, Delgado. Just get your stuff and follow me."

With an exaggerated huff, I stomp back over to my tent and hastily cram my sleeping bag into its compression sack before shouldering my pack. By the time I've gathered my things, Wyatt's already holding the flap of his tent open, one brow arched expectantly as I approach.

"You can't be serious." I eye the cramped quarters of his single-person tent, suddenly feeling self-conscious in a way I can't quite explain.

"What? It can't be any smaller than your van."

"Yeah, but I'm alone in my van, not crammed in there with some huge mountain man," I shoot back, unable to stop the playful lilt in my tone.

Wyatt's eyes dance with amusement as he gives an overdramatic sigh. "We'll see if you’re still complaining about the tight fit tomorrow morning."

With a wink, he ducks into the tiny tent, leaving me flustered and a little breathless in his wake. Damn mountain man and his flirty games.

With an overly dramatic eyeroll, I duck under the open flap and crawl inside.

Immediately, the heavy scent of campfire smoke and earthy musk surrounds me, thick and heady. Wyatt follows right behind me. I shift onto my side, trying to make room as he settles in beside me with a low grunt, our bodies pressed together from shoulder to calf. Every inch of my hyper-aware skin feels like it's humming with electricity from his closeness.

Wyatt doesn't seem the least bit fazed by our intimate proximity as he unzips his sleeping bag, draping it over us both like a shared cocoon. The sudden enveloping warmth sends a shudder through me that has nothing to do with the lingering chill.

"Better?" His low rumble vibrates against my back, hot breath fanning across the nape of my neck.

"Mmhmm." It's all I can manage with my throat feeling so suddenly tight.

For a few beats, we lay there in tense silence. I can feel the steady rise and fall of his broad chest against my back, the solid weight of one muscular arm draped across my midsection in a loose embrace.

How the hell am I supposed to sleep like this? Every nerve ending feels like it's been set ablaze, hyper-aware of the man pressed against me. I've never felt so deliciously caged in my life.

But eventually, my eyelids grow heavy as the exhaustion from today's grueling trek seeps into my very bones. Wyatt's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm against my back, each breath fanning across the sensitive skin of my neck. I can't resist leaning into that solid warmth just a fraction more, my body's own treacherous craving for his closeness.

A low, rumbling chuckle vibrates against me. "Comfy?"

I stiffen, heat flooding my cheeks. "Shut up," I mutter, struggling to maintain a shred of nonchalance.

Another soft huff of laughter, this one dangerously close to my ear. "Just get some sleep, Delgado." His arm tightens incrementally around my waist, pulling me flush against the hard planes of his body. "You're gonna need it for what I've got planned tomorrow."

With that delicious promise lingering in the air, my heavy lids drift shut, letting the steady thump of Wyatt's heartbeat against my back lull me into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Chapter 4

Wyatt

Abone-rattling gust hammers the taut nylon walls of our tiny shelter, the deafening roar of wind and pelting rain assaulting my senses. I blink awake with a start, instinctively reaching for the comforting weight of—

My hand stills as my drowsy mind catches up, registering the unmistakable softness pressed against me. Daisy's back rises and falls with each deep, even breath, her body a delicious weight against my chest.

Shit... how the hell did I let myself get this twisted up with her already?

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the fog to clear as fragments of memories drift back. The merciless climb up to basecamp, her boldness keeping pace with my grueling strides, that playful spark in her eyes daring me at every turn.