Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
But where was the trap?
Ransom once again reached back and grabbed my hand, the motion almost effortless as we forged ahead. We both halted at the edge of another crack in the earth, only this one wasn’t a drop-off into the center of the earth but filled with a thick liquid substance that was too dark and murky to identify. The smell wasn’t unpleasant, so that, at least, was something. A row of small stones peeked from the top of the still liquid, barely big enough for one person to stand on. They worked their way in a zigzag pattern all the way across the murky stream and to the other side.
“Another partner test,” Ransom said, smirking down at me before he showed me his back. “Hop on.”
I scrunched my brows at him. “Why do I have to hop on?” I chided. “I could just as easily carry you across.” Not just as easily, not at all, but I could do it if necessary.
He flashed me a look that said he knew as much. “Are you making this a thing?” he asked, light dancing in his eyes from the torches flickering along the edge of the water.
I folded my arms over my chest, popping my hip out for good measure. “No, I’m not,” I said. “I’m just saying, I could carry you as well.”
Ransom faced me, eating up the small space between us until he towered over me. Everything narrowed to that look in his gaze, the primal intensity, the wicked glint of challenge. “We’re running out of time,” he said, and the echoes of the gaining competitors rang out behind us. “Get on my back.”
The demand in his voice called to me once again, but I tipped my chin, wanting to live in this moment a little longer. A moment where his focus was solely on me, my body, my voice.
The sounds of the crowd of partners grew louder, and he shook his head. “Fine,” he said, his smile pure mischief. “You want to haul me across those stones, I’m all yours.”
My gaze widened at his submitting—I…had not expected that.
Shit.
I couldn’t back down now. He stood perfectly still as my eyes trailed the length of his massive body, as I lingered over the muscles rippling and outlined from the soaked clothes we still wore. He would be heavy, and without the adrenaline of having to haul him off a battlefield or tear him away from danger…
No, I couldn’t admit defeat now.
So, I stepped up to him, my fingers gently clutching his wrist as I tucked my shoulder under one of his strong arms. I ignored his laughter as I hefted him over my shoulder, the incredible weight of his body settled over me, and it took all of my concentration and every single ounce of my strength to take that first step toward the water. My legs trembled as I stepped onto that first narrow stone, the surface slick from whatever the liquid was. Ransom laughed again, and I practically hissed at him.
“What is funny?” I ground out each word as I made it to the next stone, the sounds of our competitors clipping at our heels.
“Just imagining the fucking hell Hawke would give me if he saw me like this.”
I rolled my eyes. “As if there is anything wrong with a female carrying the weight of a challenge—”
“I didn’t say that,” he cut me off. “I meant in the awkward-as-hell position you have me in. My entire ass is on display for everyone behind us.” I made it to the next stone, wobbling slightly. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “It’s the best view they’ll see in a century, but still.”
A laugh, raw and fierce, ripped from my lips so hard that I lost all sense of balance. One second we were poised on the middle most stone, and the next we toppled in a tangled heap into the muck.
I kicked my legs and propelled my arms upward, the liquid thick and sticking to every inch of my body. It felt like slightly watered-down mud, but I managed to clear the surface, sucking in a heaving breath. Ransom’s face, naturally, was already above the surface, caked in mud so thick I could only make out the blue of his eyes and the whites of his fangs as he grinned at me. He moved through the sludge, his hand outstretched as he grazed his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping away some of the liquid. I mirrored his movements, giving myself permission to touch that beautiful face if only with the excuse to clear the grime.
And then he laughed, so full and infectious I joined in. The competition forgotten, I drowned in that laugh, danced in the joy of it.
“Can I carry you now?” he asked. He actually asked, as if I told him no, then he’d indulge my need to show my worth and allow me to try and carry him across again.