the empty fuel tank with a thud that echoed like a bass drum and landing in a tangle of limbs and clothes. She tried to remove her boots but he was so frantic for her that she gave up and let him tug her jeans over them. He cradled her hips in his hands and set his mouth to her, suckling greedily. She arched upward in surprise and pleasure, hurled right over the summit without warning, and without giving her a chance, to slide safely down the other side he rose up and kneed her legs farther apart and came into her.
He was forceful and demanding and wholly concerned with his own need but she came again anyway, and this time she couldn't stop the cry that ripped from her throat. She raked her fingernails down his spine and that was all it took to push him over the edge, the husky, inarticulate growling sound from deep in his throat almost taking her with him a third time.
They lay there in a jumble of denim and flannel and a hundred percent cotton, breathing hard, heat radiating off them in waves. Kate couldn't hear over the thudding of blood in her ears, and opened her eyes to see nothing but stars. She blinked. There were stars overhead, emerging one by one in the twilight sky.
The sun was setting in a blush of glory, the moon rising over the opposite horizon, almost full and softly radiant. The tips of Foraker, Hunter and Denali rose like ghosts against the northern horizon, hinting at the force and fold of geologic age beyond, whose names murmured a litany of beauty and challenge, Pioneer Ridge, Silverthrone, Mount Deception, Ragged Peak.
The air was calm and still warm from the day, and everything would have been simply perfect if it hadn't been for the blue-shrouded mound at the edge of the airstrip.
Finally Jack stirred and mumbled something. "What?" Kate said muzzily. "What did you say?"
Jack took a deep breath, tapped into his reserve and shifted maybe an inch. Obligingly, she matched his movements, not ready to give him up.
He settled down again and sighed his content. "You know," he said lazily, "a friend of Damon Runyon's used to say that the only time a man was sane was the first ten minutes after orgasm. Empirical evidence here recently obtained may have proved his thesis to be one hundred percent correct."
Kate discovered she had just enough energy left to smile. "I feel kind of like the sack of Troy, myself." "Umm." He nuzzled into her neck.
"Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?"
"Yes, but tell me again."
"I love your hair," he replied obediently.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Another slow, luxurious sigh. Minutes passed. "I'm going to move. Really. Eventually."
"No hurry."
"Good. Because I can't."
"Me neither." "Not yet anyway."
"Nope."
They dozed a little, and woke to the sounds of George and Demetri moving Fedor's body into one of the planes for the night.
Footsteps came close to the tank. There was a deliberate and ostentatious clearing of throat. "Jack? Kate?"
Jack raised his head. "Yeah?"
"Dieter's still insisting on staying the full time. If it wasn't for him and his hired muscle"--without difficulty Kate identified the "hired muscle" as Eberhard--"I think the rest of them would be ready to go tonight. Might be a little insurrection brewing. Just so you know.
Could be trouble when I take off tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Demetri's cooking dinner." They could hear the smile in George's voice. "You want it served out here?"
"Smartass," Jack mumbled, and George laughed and moved away. Jack waited until he was out of range before looking down at Kate. What she could see of his expression in the dim light looked sheepish.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know, I guess I'm kind of embarrassed. I didn't hurt you, did I? I mean I did sort of--I mean I was kind of--" "Determined?" she suggested demurely. "Forceful? Overpowering? We might even say, possessing all the finesse of a rampaging bull?"
He floundered. "Well, I--"
The bubble of laughter escaped. She pushed him over on his back and
He was forceful and demanding and wholly concerned with his own need but she came again anyway, and this time she couldn't stop the cry that ripped from her throat. She raked her fingernails down his spine and that was all it took to push him over the edge, the husky, inarticulate growling sound from deep in his throat almost taking her with him a third time.
They lay there in a jumble of denim and flannel and a hundred percent cotton, breathing hard, heat radiating off them in waves. Kate couldn't hear over the thudding of blood in her ears, and opened her eyes to see nothing but stars. She blinked. There were stars overhead, emerging one by one in the twilight sky.
The sun was setting in a blush of glory, the moon rising over the opposite horizon, almost full and softly radiant. The tips of Foraker, Hunter and Denali rose like ghosts against the northern horizon, hinting at the force and fold of geologic age beyond, whose names murmured a litany of beauty and challenge, Pioneer Ridge, Silverthrone, Mount Deception, Ragged Peak.
The air was calm and still warm from the day, and everything would have been simply perfect if it hadn't been for the blue-shrouded mound at the edge of the airstrip.
Finally Jack stirred and mumbled something. "What?" Kate said muzzily. "What did you say?"
Jack took a deep breath, tapped into his reserve and shifted maybe an inch. Obligingly, she matched his movements, not ready to give him up.
He settled down again and sighed his content. "You know," he said lazily, "a friend of Damon Runyon's used to say that the only time a man was sane was the first ten minutes after orgasm. Empirical evidence here recently obtained may have proved his thesis to be one hundred percent correct."
Kate discovered she had just enough energy left to smile. "I feel kind of like the sack of Troy, myself." "Umm." He nuzzled into her neck.
"Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?"
"Yes, but tell me again."
"I love your hair," he replied obediently.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Another slow, luxurious sigh. Minutes passed. "I'm going to move. Really. Eventually."
"No hurry."
"Good. Because I can't."
"Me neither." "Not yet anyway."
"Nope."
They dozed a little, and woke to the sounds of George and Demetri moving Fedor's body into one of the planes for the night.
Footsteps came close to the tank. There was a deliberate and ostentatious clearing of throat. "Jack? Kate?"
Jack raised his head. "Yeah?"
"Dieter's still insisting on staying the full time. If it wasn't for him and his hired muscle"--without difficulty Kate identified the "hired muscle" as Eberhard--"I think the rest of them would be ready to go tonight. Might be a little insurrection brewing. Just so you know.
Could be trouble when I take off tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Demetri's cooking dinner." They could hear the smile in George's voice. "You want it served out here?"
"Smartass," Jack mumbled, and George laughed and moved away. Jack waited until he was out of range before looking down at Kate. What she could see of his expression in the dim light looked sheepish.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know, I guess I'm kind of embarrassed. I didn't hurt you, did I? I mean I did sort of--I mean I was kind of--" "Determined?" she suggested demurely. "Forceful? Overpowering? We might even say, possessing all the finesse of a rampaging bull?"
He floundered. "Well, I--"
The bubble of laughter escaped. She pushed him over on his back and
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