Whitewater Rendezvous Read online

  She had turned slightly to face Chaz, and they stood looking at each other, while the others began to spread out over the hillside, some taking pictures, others finding a comfortable place to sit and watch the herd through binoculars. Chaz’s lips were so close that Megan couldn’t take her eyes off them. They were wonderful lips, full and rosy red with the cold.

  “I won’t forget you, either,” she whispered without really thinking.

  Chaz lifted a hand and gently touched Megan’s chin, tilting her face up until their eyes met. The touch shot through her like a charge of electricity. Chaz’s eyes were dark and endless and drew her in, and for a moment—just a moment—Megan was certain Chaz was going to kiss her right then and there.

  Instead, Chaz took a deep breath and let it out, as though she was struggling for control. “And I won’t forget you,” she said, dropping her hand. She turned to look back at the herd.

  Megan’s body shook with disappointment, but when her eyes followed Chaz’s to the valley below, she decided she couldn’t really complain. Seeing the caribou was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and she didn’t want to miss a minute of it. There would be plenty of time for kissing later.

  Yup. Seducing her is going to be a walk in the park. She might even beat me to the punch.

  *

  Chaz gazed out over the herd, trying to still the butterflies in her stomach. Dear God, she had almost kissed Megan. What the hell had she been thinking? She was just so caught up in the moment and the look of sheer bliss in Megan’s eyes. Something was happening between them, that was for sure. She had never felt so out of control in her life.

  The tent was going to be torture tonight.

  Unless…the clients wanted to stay here until very late. After that long, tough trudge through the tussocks and back again, everyone would be absolutely exhausted. Even Megan.

  She could only hope.

  They watched the caribou for two hours, the gangly calves, thousands of them born within days of each other, trotting along beside their mothers, who were finally shedding their bleached winter fur. The bulls already had their dark coats and velvet-covered antlers, the enormous racks swaying slightly as they grazed. In front of the herd, the land was alive with summer greenery and wildflowers, but behind it was only a vast brown plain, like it had been freshly tilled. The caribou stripped the tundra of every blossom, lichen, cotton grass shoot, and other hint of vegetation.

  By the time the women trekked back to their campsite, it was truly the hour of the midnight sun, when the landscape fairly glowed—the diffuse light making colors unbelievably vivid.

  They walked in silence, except for the occasional alert to something moving on the tundra and worthy of particular notice. As they arrived back at the tents, a snowy owl with a five-foot wingspan soared over them and then downriver. It was as dark as it would get, with shadows from the surrounding hills shading the tents in a suggestion of dusk.

  “Good night, everyone,” Sally said, “We can all sleep in tomorrow.”

  “Great news,” Yancey said, stifling a yawn. “I’m beat.”

  There was a chorus of “good nights” all around, followed by the sounds of tent zippers and low voices.

  Megan felt like she had voltage in her veins. The current of restless anticipation had been building all day, until every nerve ending in her body sang, until all she could think about was kissing Chaz and touching that magnificent body. She had put up their tent alone while Chaz cooked, and she had deliberately picked a spot as far from the others as possible to afford them at least a little privacy.

  Turning as she stooped to unzip the tent, Megan was disappointed that Chaz was not behind her—she had apparently diverted off somewhere, probably to make a pit stop.

  No excuses tonight, she thought. She’d begun to suspect that Chaz’s habit of staying up late might have something to do with the growing attraction between them. But there was no campfire to keep Chaz outside, and it was already very late. She had to come in soon.

  Sally’s words came back to her. I think it’s hard for her to make the first move when she’s interested in someone. And…She’s not attracted to Elise. She’s more interested in someone else. Sally couldn’t have drawn her a clearer map, and her goal was within reach.

  *

  Chaz surveyed the area around where they cooked one more time to make sure they had taken care of all traces of food and garbage before they turned in. She had checked it thoroughly before they’d gone to see the herd, but she needed some reason not to retire right away, and it was the best one she could think of off the top of her head. Can’t stall much longer.

  Though it was nearly midnight, she was not in the least bit tired. Quite the opposite. Megan had walked directly in front of her as they followed their path back to the campsite single file. She hadn’t planned it that way—Megan had taken a couple of quick steps as they all set off, to position herself there.

  So she had a full hour to watch Megan’s way-too-cute ass sway back and forth as she strode along. After the first ten minutes or so, Chaz was convinced she was deliberately exaggerating the movement of her hips to maximize the impact. She knows damn well what she’s doing to me. Talk about hitting below the belt.

  So by the time they got back, her whole body was thrumming with desire in a way that shocked her.

  Can’t avoid this forever. Might as well get it over with. Just go in there, get into your bag, and try to go to sleep. Don’t look at her and don’t talk to her, except to say good night. She knew she was on the verge of losing control, and it was a very unfamiliar place to be. It had always been clear to her, where to draw the line. But then, she’d never been tempted like this before.

  She took a deep breath and headed for the tent.

  Chapter Twelve

  Chaz bent to untie her laces beside the entrance to the tent, so she could slip her boots off before she went inside. Peering through the insect netting, she found Megan wide-awake, lying half within her sleeping bag but propped up on one elbow, watching her intently. The V-necked man’s T-shirt she was wearing exposed a hint of cleavage. As their eyes locked, Megan licked her lips in a deliciously enticing way.

  Chaz’s heartbeat sped up, and her hands shook slightly as she removed her boots and unzipped the tent to slip inside. She didn’t dare look at Megan as she piled her gear into a corner by the door and shed clothes—her coat first, then fleece pullover, insulated pants, and socks. She got halfway into her own sleeping bag, wearing navy cotton boxers and a loose-fitting, long-sleeved navy T-shirt. The attraction between them had flared into a hot and undeniable living, breathing entity, and she had no idea how to deal with it except to try to ignore it.

  She lay down on her side, facing away from Megan, stuffed her pillow under her head and closed her eyes, struggling to keep her body and voice under control. “Good night,” she whispered, praying those words would be enough to stop anything from happening.

  For a very long minute or two, Megan said nothing. Chaz, waiting on pins and needles, felt relief and disappointment in equal measure.

  When Megan did speak, her voice was soft and intimate, the voice of a lover after a long night of passion. “You almost kissed me, up there on the hill. You wanted to.” Not a question. A statement.

  “Did I?” Chaz didn’t move. Oh, God, here it comes. She held her breath. Her skin tingled in anticipation.

  “Yes. And I wanted you to. But then, you know that, don’t you?” Megan said.

  Chaz shook her head. “Megan, I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” Megan cut her off. “And you will. You know we have to.”

  The words sent a sharp current of arousal through her, dulling her conscience, making every single argument against it seem small and insignificant. You can’t! You can’t! But she had lost the battle almost before Megan reached for her.

  She felt a hand around her waist, turning her, insistent, and she had only a moment to look into those green eyes, pupils large and dark and full of
need, before Megan was kissing her, as she had never been kissed before, and God help her, there was not a thing she could do but kiss her back.

  When Megan’s tongue thrust into her mouth, Chaz answered with a passion she feared would consume her, her tongue exploring the welcoming warmth with an unquenchable thirst. And when Megan’s hand entwined itself into her hair and roughly caressed her scalp, it sent her jangled senses into overdrive. Megan stirred something wild and primitive in her, and touching her was an elemental need, like the clean air of the wilderness.

  The pressure in her chest made it hard to breathe. The pressure building between her legs made it impossible to think. Kissing wasn’t nearly enough. Desire took control and obliterated the last vestiges of reason. She wrapped her arms around Megan and pulled their bodies together, breaking the kiss to roll until Megan was on top of her.

  As Megan’s smaller frame settled against the length of her body, and their curves and valleys melded together like puzzle pieces, she was rewarded with a long, sensual groan of approval. The sound reverberated through her skin and fueled the fire raging within. Megan’s mouth reclaimed hers for another long, deep, scorching kiss, and just as her brain hazily registered that the sleeping bags had to go, she felt the shock of cool fingertips against the warm flesh of her abdomen and realized Megan’s hand had found its way under her shirt.

  Her stomach muscles contracted, and her heart began hammering even harder in her chest, in anticipation of where that hand was headed.

  She didn’t have long to wait.

  Megan’s cool palm slid over the flat plane of her belly; then the back of her fingers traced the bottom curve of her breasts, teasingly close, maddeningly distant. As Megan’s fingertips neared their destination, Chaz’s hands sought their own reward of soft skin. She caressed Megan’s back, grazing her fingernails lightly down the length of her body and into the confines of her sleeping bag until she felt the warm expanse of flesh between cotton shirt and silk panties.

  She slipped a hand beneath the silk and cupped Megan’s ass roughly. The ass that had taunted her, teased her, driven her mad.

  Megan gasped and retaliated with a firm squeeze of Chaz’s right nipple between her fingertips. It was instantly hard. She raised her head to look at Chaz. “What do you like?” she whispered, her breathing fast and unsteady, as her hand found Chaz’s other nipple and gave it equal treatment. “Tell me what you want.”

  It was as though someone had thrown cold water on her. The question, the look in Megan’s eyes, the momentary pause in the fevered kisses that had overpowered all sense of reason—she wasn’t sure what it was. But it made her remember Pat’s words and realize that she would only be a notch on Megan’s belt—one in a long list and forgotten tomorrow. The thought was enough for her to regain some small sense of control over her runaway libido.

  “I…I’m sorry,” she stammered, disengaging herself from their embrace. Abruptly, she shifted her weight so that Megan’s body was off of hers and deposited unceremoniously on its own side of the tent.

  The rejection happened so quickly that it took Megan a moment to register what had happened and raise a protest. She sat up. “What’s wrong?” she asked, reaching for Chaz as though she’d lost her mind.

  “I’m sorry,” Chaz gently intercepted Megan’s hand as it headed for her breast, “I can’t do this.”

  “Sure you can,” Megan persisted. She leaned toward Chaz to kiss her again, but Chaz stiffened and turned her head away.

  “No, Megan.”

  Megan withdrew her hand as though she’d been burned. “What are you, a tease?”

  Chaz shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”

  “You want me as much as I want you,” Megan argued. “You can’t deny that.”

  The words sent another rush of arousal through her. “No. I can’t deny that.” She couldn’t look at Megan, or she knew she might lose her resolve again. Flipping onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling of the tent. “But nothing can happen between us.”

  “Care to tell me why the hell not?” Megan’s tone was confused.

  “You’re a client. I don’t think it’s ethical.”

  “Screw that. I don’t care about that. We’re both adults.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Sure it is.” Frustration seeped into Megan’s voice. “It’s very simple. You want me, and I want you. What’s wrong with having some fun?”

  “What’s wrong is that’s all it is to you,” Chaz retorted, then wished she could take the words back. She sounded like a high school kid upset to find she wasn’t the first to kiss her girl. Feeling exposed, she tried for a more reasonable tone. “I’m not like that. I don’t do one-night stands.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Megan was getting angrier by the second. “If we hadn’t had clothes on and these damn sleeping bags between us, we’d be fucking right now.”

  Chaz tried to ignore the picture that appeared in her mind at Megan’s words, but she could not. She was still hopelessly turned on, and she had to admit that Megan was probably right about what they’d be doing. Damn it all to hell. “I’m sorry I let it go so far. It was unfair to you.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” Megan spat out the words and then turned on her side, facing away.

  She lay there fuming in silence for two or three minutes, jaw clenching and unclenching, her body stubbornly refusing to relinquish the buzz of arousal that Chaz had lit. Hell, no. No way. I’m not going to let her do this. Her heart continued to pound as though their bodies were still pressed together. God, I can’t believe how she makes me feel. And she wants me, too. She admitted it. No way can she kiss me like that and not be just as hot for me as I am for her. I bet I can make her change her mind. Not that I have anything to lose by trying.

  She unzipped her sleeping bag and peeled it back, then turned over to face Chaz.

  Chaz was still on her back. She had her eyes closed, but opened them at the movement beside her and looked over at Megan just as Megan began to unzip her sleeping bag. “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if my powers of persuasion are as good as I think they are,” Megan said seductively as she opened Chaz’s sleeping bag and scooted over next to her until their bodies were just touching. “I’m not buying your bullshit excuses. I could feel in your kiss how much you want this. Need this. Just as much as I do.”

  Chaz didn’t move. You can’t tell her she’s wrong. Her body was still so overheated from arousal that the cool air on her exposed legs was welcome. “Megan, please…” Her voice was honey thick. She meant it to sound like a protest, but it came out like a plea.

  Megan looked her in the eyes and smiled knowingly, as though recognizing the desire she could not hide. Why was it again we shouldn’t do this? Chaz wondered.

  Before her mind could regain enough sense to answer, Megan’s face was descending toward hers. It paused just before their lips met. “Let me touch you, Chaz. I want to make you come,” she whispered, then kissed her hard.

  As her tongue pushed into Chaz’s mouth, Megan’s hand cupped her sex, and Chaz’s body involuntarily rose to meet the contact. Oh, Jesus, God. She could feel how wet she was, and she knew Megan could feel it too; it quickly saturated the thin material of her boxers.

  Megan’s own excitement doubled when her fingers told her how aroused Chaz was, and she pressed her body tighter against Chaz’s with a moan.

  You can’t do this. Chaz had no idea how her conscience had resurfaced at this moment. Or was it pride? Her professional ethics were losing their grip. And she hardly cared whether it was just for one night, any more. She wanted Megan so much. But what if this is all part of a bet? She didn’t want to believe that was true. God damn it.

  She pulled Megan’s hand away as she forced their lips apart. “Please stop.” Her voice broke with emotion.

  Megan was breathing hard. She backed away slowly, just enough to separate their bodies. She cou
ld tell Chaz was upset, and that was what finally penetrated her determined efforts and haze of arousal.

  “I want to,” Chaz admitted, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn’t look at Megan. She’d give in for sure, if she looked into those eyes. “God, I want to. I’m so sorry. But not like this. Please, Megan.”

  Megan shifted back onto her own sleeping bag and turned away without a word, fighting the urge to say something impulsive she knew she might later regret. Her anger was mitigated slightly by the sincere regret she heard in Chaz’s voice.

  Not like this. The words echoed in Megan’s mind. She wants you. Just not like this. If she has reservations you really don’t want to push this right now, do you? She might regret it if you do. And you don’t want her to.

  Chaz wished to hell she could think of something to say. Or that Megan would say something. Anything. Nothing like silence after a rejection to make you feel like a complete ass. She hated hurting Megan, or embarrassing her. She knew she shouldn’t have let them go so far.

  After a time, Megan’s anger subsided enough for her to realize that it was up to her to ease the tension between them. It had been she, after all, who had started all this in the first place. But it was a difficult apology. She still felt humiliated, and she couldn’t face Chaz when she spoke the words. “I’m sorry. I should have heard no the first time you said it.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Megan,” Chaz said. “I don’t want this to...make things uncomfortable or anything. I mean, can’t we just put tonight behind us and enjoy the rest of the trip?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  It was an awkward, uneasy truce.

  Chaz’s mind and body were so keyed up that it was a very long time before she fell asleep, and she knew from Megan’s frequent, restless shifts in positions that she wasn’t faring any better. But no more words were spoken between them.