Unlikely Allies

"I'm guessing when we didn't make it back the other night, Rick is probably assuming something happened and we needed to hunker down to wait out the rain. He knows as well as I do that the continuous rain will make the trails treacherous. It needs to stop raining long enough to let the ground dry out," he said softly.

"I need to do something about your leg," I said, sitting up. "It can't stay open and exposed like that. It was bad enough when I thought rescue was coming right away. You'll get an infection if you don't already have one. We need a piece of the raincoat that's outside that I can at least drape over it."

"I thought about that too. I'm not thrilled about you going back out in the rain. You're already getting sick. I could hear it rattling around in your chest last night."

He was right. I had been trying to ignore my scratchy throat and aches and pains, but they were making their presence a

"It's just a cold," I muttered.

"Maybe right now it is, but the cold wet temperatures could easily turn it into pneumonia," he said, sounding serious.

I laughed. "We have bigger fish to fry with your leg than some silly cold," I said, pulling my raincoat on.

He looked at me sternly, obviously not liking my glib attitude. "Kimberly, I'm serious. I don't like you going out in the rain."

"Yeah? Well, I don't want your leg to fall off from an infection," I countered, not liking his sudden bossiness. I pulled on my damp socks and shoes.

"And I don't want you coughing out a lung when you get pneumonia," he said, matching my tone.

"Lucky for me, you're not the boss of me," I said, throwing my hood on and stomping outside.

Still fuming, I climbed up onto the big boulder where I had laid the raincoat the night before and started tearing a section off the bottom where it was the most ragged. My frustrated state made the nylon material no match for me, and within a few minutes I had several suitable pieces. I was tempted to teach Mason a lesson by staying out longer, but the wind kept whipping the rain into my face, chilling me. By the time I crawled back into the cave with Mason, my teeth were chattering. He didn't say a word, but instead, held out his arms so I could crawl into them. I tossed my raincoat back down on the ground and climbed into his embrace as he rubbed my back through my multiple layers of clothing to warm me. He cradled my chilled hands and I sighed with relief as they started to warm back up. I kicked off my wet shoes and soggy socks and without asking permission, snuggled my feet up against his leg.

He yelped when my icy feet made contact and I stifled a giggle.

"We need to do your leg," I said, yawning loudly.

"Rest first," he said, keeping a firm arm around my waist.

"I'm fine," I said before biting back another large yawn. "Why am I so freaking tired?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"The trauma of the last few days. Ordinarily, after a spill like you took, you would be resting in a nice comfortable bed for several days, not searching for shelter or dragging someone's deadweight around. You haven't allowed your body a chance to recover," he said. "Not to mention, you're sick," he admonished.

I wanted to protest, but before I could get the words out, a cough rumbled up through my chest.

He sighed as I bit back a smile. Okay, so maybe he was right. The frigid temperatures and continuous rain weren't helping my condition.

Mason continued to rub my back as I slowly fell asleep. My dreams intertwined with reality as I dreamt that his hands explored more than my back. I began to respond to his touch in the dream and yearned for it to never stop as my body shifted closer to him. I woke when Mason's hand stopped moving as he shifted slightly. Waking fully, I was mortified to see that I had hiked my leg up onto his good one and was pressing intimately close to him. Not daring to move, I hoped against hope that he was asleep and had missed my lap dance.

"Kimberly?" he said questioningly.

Damn, he wasn't sleeping and he had caught my whole wanton act. I wasn't exactly a newbie to sex. I had caved this past spring and let Mitch, my senior year boyfriend, talk me into getting a room after prom, but the actual act was over before it really started. Missing what all the fuss was about, I instantly regretted my impulsive decision. I wished I had waited like my mom had always coaxed me to do. At the time, I wasn't keen on the idea of going to college a virgin, so it didn't take much for Mitch to get me to agree. We'd had our heavy-petting sessions leading up to it, so I felt I was ready for the deed, but once it started, it felt wrong and I'd broken up with Mitch shortly after prom. I used the excuse that we were going to different colleges and a clean break was for the best. He didn't put up much of a fight, so I concluded he'd gotten what he wanted.

Lying in Mason's arms was as different as night and day. Way different than anything I had ever experienced with Mitch.

"Kimberly," he said after several minutes had passed.

"Yes," I said in a high-pitched voice I didn't recognize.

"Will you do me a favor?" he asked.

"Uh, sure," I said, expecting him to tell me to control my raging hormones.

"Will you look at me?" he asked.

I lifted my gaze, expecting to see humor on his face for busting me in my most embarrassing predicament yet. "Uh sorry, I was dreaming," I said lamely, finally looking into his eyes.

"I figured that," he said huskily.

"Swell," I said, going for sarcasm as I started to pull back.

"I don't think so," he said, dragging me close so I was sprawled over his chest with my face inches from his.

My eyes darted to his lips as the sensations from the dream resurfaced.

"You are literally killing me," he said, threading his hand through my hair and pulling me even closer.

"I am?" I squeaked.

Without answering, he propelled me the remaining distance and fastened his lips onto mine. I moaned against his mouth, giving his tongue the access it needed. I leaned in closer, shifting my body against his, trying to quench the fire that had flared back up in me. When he moaned against my lips, I thought his passion matched mine, until I felt his lips release.

"Mason?" I asked, pulling back.

Sweat had beaded up on his forehead and his complexion was ashen.

"Mason?" I asked again, more urgently. "Are you okay?"

"It's my goddamn leg," he mumbled.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," I said, realizing I had jarred his leg.

"Not your fault, beach bu

I pulled out of his arms. "I should have been more careful," I said, switching the flashlight on so I could see his leg better in the dim light.

"Not your fault," he repeated, opening his eyes. "How does it look?"

"Not good. The wound is still oozing and the skin around it looks more red than yesterday," I said, leaning in so I could get a better look at it. "We definitely need to cover it."

He nodded.

I was busy cleaning the vinyl raincoat with one of the alcohol wipes when a sudden thought hit me. "Um, Mason, I don't know why I haven't thought of it until now, but do you have to go to the bathroom?" I asked, turning slightly pink.

He coughed, looking equally embarrassed. "I went last night," he said sheepishly, pulling the newly filled water bottle from its hiding place between him and the wall.