Page 49 of Holiday Hostage
I forced the thought away. I had no idea where we were going, and Reed needed Tarron with him to keep an eye on his wound.
My stomach knotted and released.
Tarron would watch over Reed.
They were closer than brothers, and after what I’d seen and heard tonight, there was no way Tarron would let any more harm come to Reed.
I swung my leg across the snowmobile and waited for Maverick to join me.
His body warmed my spine and shoulders, and the arm around my waist locked me in place.
Snow peppered the air in a flurry that drove tiny ice particles into my cheeks as soon as we left the meager safety the tree branches had provided.
My memory was fuzzy on the last time I’d been on a snowmobile.
The feeling of Mav behind me had a familiarity to it that I found intoxicating.
I wiggled closer to him and shielded my face from the storm, pulling my gear tighter across my face.
Engines hummed, the storm gathering power and blotting out most other sounds.
There was no way the mercenaries could track us down in this.
I took comfort from that thought, especially when Maverick tightened his hold on me as we made a sharp left and traveled across the thick powder that led up and over a low hill.
Talking became almost impossible unless I turned and screamed into his face.
I’d rather save my breath for later and talk to all three of them.
Reed and Tarron zigzagged ahead of us, the flash of their snowmobile cutting in and out in the storm.
I had no choice but to lean into Maverick when the hill turned into a steady downgrade that threatened to send me over the handlebars.
His face pressed into the side of mine, and all I could think about was last night and all the things we’d done together.
That moment of connection flared into something feverish and not at all upsetting.
The intimacy of sitting between his legs on the snowmobile warmed me in a way nothing else could. I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, and ended up with my ass pressed into his cock.
Heat pooled in my belly, and when I began to move away, he splayed a hand over my stomach, anchoring me in place.
The ride turned from a flight for our lives into a dangerously intimate moment that made me want it to never end.
It had to.
Reed needed treatment.
We were in a race against time, the weather, and men bound and determined to take me away from Maverick and the others.
Tarron slowed to a stop.
Yanking his balaclava away from his mouth and pointing ahead, he called to Mav, “Fishing village just ahead. Reed thinks they might be willing to trade with us.”
“Trade?” Confusion pinched my frozen forehead. “What are we trading for?”
“We need a ship.” Reed rotated his shoulder, and even in the darkness, I noted the sheen of sweat on his wind-chapped cheeks. “Well, a boat, really. Anything that floats and can take us upriver.”
They wanted to get on the water…in the middle of Alaska? I’d question them if I had a better idea.
