Vivian Arend - High Risk

He did it again. And again, the sensation making her tremble as he waited just long enough for her to fully feel him enter her body each time. So intimate. Such complete abandon.

Trust.

When he leaned over to kiss her once more, she was ready for the next step. Ready for him to grab hold of her and turn up the speed. He thrust in and dragged out hard now, torsos locked together, her ass burning as he plunged in again and again.

When he reached between her legs and touched her clit, she buried her face in the mattress and screamed. Ass clutching him as her orgasm broke her down and tore her into ribbons of pleasure. Inside her sex the muscles pulsed, her breasts tingled—her entire body being taken along for the ride.

“Becki.” He buried himself as deep as possible a second before his cock jerked, a flood of warmth filling her as his seed rushed out.

They collapsed together, his cock still a part of her, their legs tangled, both of them sweaty and panting for breath.

She’d never felt so alive in her life.

Her cheek rested on something cold and solid, flakes of dirt and grit under her palms where they were pressed to the ground. Becki pushed to a sitting position with the caution born of a thousand climbs—testing each hold before trusting her life on it.

She’d expected the spruce forest, but it had vanished, leaving nothing but the grey of cloud and granite. The rock she sat on was bombproof. Flat, solid. The perfect place to take a nap.

Right—as if.

Taking to her feet used more energy than she wanted, every muscle at the point of quivering in agony. Legs, head, torso—all a mass of aches and pains. Cold as well, as if she’d been motionless for a long time. She staggered under the pack’s weight, pulled off her helmet, and rubbed her aching temples. Whatever had happened, she was still standing. Still breathing. It wasn’t the end of the world. She stretched one arm back and clipped her helmet in place, the move more instinctual than planned.

Even her fingertips hurt. She shook out her hands gingerly, trying to get them to warm up, and she brushed her harness. Another habitual move kicked into gear and she reached forward, grabbing the figure-eight knot she found anchored tight. She slid her fingers upward to gather her rope and coil it neatly. When her hand slipped off far too soon, a rush of adrenaline shot through her. Sickening bile rose as her mind registered what was wrong.

The rope ended barely a hand’s grasp from her harness.

She stared down at the cut rope, the ends of the twist already coming unraveled. The moisture on her face—she wasn’t sure if it was the rain that had chosen that moment to become full out, or if it was tears.

What had she done?

Becki woke first, sadness sinking into her brain like a heavy blanket as her dream slipped from the distant place of the night to the here and now. Understanding brought so much sorrow. She rolled slowly, taking herself from under Marcus’s left arm, which lay draped over her stomach.

Recovering the memory was strangely anticlimactic.

Maybe she’d been ready for it. Maybe that was why her heart wasn’t pounding like crazy. While the truth hurt, and finally knowing changed everything, at least she could go on from here. Do what needed to be done.

That was at least something to be grateful for.

She stopped beside the bed, her vision caught by Marcus. The blankets in disarray around him, his naked chest exposed, his head tilted to the side with his right hand near his temple. His left arm, the one that had held her to him, lay across his chest, the shortened section of his forearm ending abruptly. Maybe it should have shocked her how seldom she noticed his missing hand.

He wasn’t lacking, though. In any way. Strong and determined. Giving and powerful. Since the moment she’d met him so many years ago up to now, the only word she had for him was extraordinary.

Now she was going to have to leave him, and the realization hurt far more than she’d expected. The pain she anticipated taking control after her memory returned finally arrived. Only it was because having to say good-bye to Banff would mean leaving Marcus again.

The first time, after their fling, she’d missed him, but with the ease of youth she’d moved on.

She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do that this time.

And last night? God. Last night had been so exactly what she’d needed. Having this man take control of her and drive her to new heights of passion . . .

Marcus scowled, his face tightening in a grimace. He twitched in his sleep. Head jerking as something rolled through his body. Becki stepped closer, concern washing away her own sorrows.

“Marcus?” she whispered. “You’re dreaming. It’s okay. Wake up.”

He moved uneasily, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Moans broke free from his lips, words forming. “No, no . . . Don’t give up.”

Oh no. Whatever nightmares he fought, this could get ugly fast.

“Hang on. I’m coming. I’ll be there.”

“Marcus. Wake up,” she insisted louder. Becki placed one knee on the bed and reached for his leg. He shot upright, arms flailing, and she jerked back to avoid being hit. “You’re good, you’re safe. It’s me, Becki, and we’re in David’s cabin. There’s nothing wrong.”

His body continued to shake for a moment before his eyes slowly focused, and he collapsed back. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She crawled next to him, fingers light on his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for. You okay? Can I get you anything?”

He stared at the ceiling and shook his head. “I’m glad I didn’t come out of that swinging and hurt you.”

Becki laid her head on his chest, stroking him gently. Trying to ease his panic. His heart pounded like crazy, and she deliberately breathed slower. Willing him to find peace. She didn’t want to have him hurting.

God, the list of what she didn’t want was growing by the minute.

Marcus rolled and surrounded her, cradling her carefully against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “How long was I out?” he asked.

“Not long. You seemed to be having a bad dream.”

He sighed. “Well, at least it was a short episode. Thanks for being there to pull me out.”

She wanted to tell him it was no problem. Wanted to say that she hated that he had nightmares—to ask if they were because of his accident, and was there anything she could do to help.

But those were questions she would ask if she were staying. If this relationship was going to become more than what they currently had. And she couldn’t force him to stay with her when she was about to blow their connection and the entire SAR team apart. When she was going to have to go back and change her life for good.

Instead, she gave him a partial truth. “Glad I could help.”

Neither of them spoke much as they found their way out of bed. Gathered breakfast cereal from the box. Marcus brewed some of the strongest coffee Becki had ever had, and the bitter taste barely registered on her tongue. Only the heat. The bitterness seemed too appropriate for the day.

They bundled up in their thickest coats and sat in the chairs outside the cabin door that let them look out over the Bow Valley mountain range. Becki debated how long she wanted to stay silent, but it was inevitable. They’d come to hide from the media. With her memories intact, or at least the one that was most important, there was no reason to remain hidden anymore.

The scent of the breeze after it had passed over fresh snow hit her face—adding another acidic, sharp flavour to the day. The truth was going to burn for a long time. Why prolong the pain?

“Marcus?” She kept staring over the beautiful panorama, but even that didn’t provide any hope. “I . . . I cut the line.”

He was next to her chair in an instant, kneeling at her side. “What do you remember?”

Turning to look into his face was possibly more heartbreaking than actually knowing what she’d done. Because now? She was going to sever the line between them and kill all hopes of a relationship. Of a forever between them.

She’d gone and done the worst thing possible. She’d fallen in love just in time to have to cut him free.

His eyes were dark—focused. Totally and completely concentrating on her alone.

Losing his confidence in her was going to be the second worst part.

“I did it, Marcus. I’ve been so certain all this time that I would never ever do that to a partner, but I saw it. The rope attached to my harness was cut, exactly the distance it would have been if I took a knife to it. I saved myself, and Dane died. We can go back—set up an announcement. I should let David know—”

“Bullshit.”

His grip on her thigh had tightened as she spoke, but the sheer violence in his tone shocked her. She frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about? It’s the truth. I can’t deny it. We came here to avoid the reporters, but now that I know—”

“Stop it. You’re jumping to conclusions. Stop rolling yourself forward so fast and tell me what you remember.”

Becki bit back a sob. “Why are you doing this? It’s hard enough to have to say it once, but this is cruel. I killed him, okay? I killed my climbing partner to save myself.”

Marcus caught her and pulled her forward, and she allowed his embrace, her body still stiff, but her face pressed into the crook of his shoulder. Tears escaped no matter how hard she tried to stop them.