Free Reconsidering Riley by Lisa Plumley

contact, reminding her of
the way they each used to know what the other was thinking without
saying a word. During their time together, the two of them had
created an entire language of touches, looks, laughs. Apparently,
it wouldn't take long for the Berlitz version of Riley-Jane-Speak
to bring them up to speed again now.
    Damn it.
    She knew he was smiling at her comment even
before she glanced over her shoulder at him.
    He winked and nodded toward the group.
"Somebody's got to be in charge."
    He was in charge . Although he kept
his voice low so the others wouldn't overhear, Jayne knew they
realized it too. The ability to lead came as naturally to Riley as
broad shoulders and a wicked appreciation for a properly-fitted
pack.
    Speaking of which...
    "The hip belt is secured first," he said to
the group. His hands skimmed down her sides to capture the dangling
straps, while he leveraged his chest against her back to hold the
pack in place. Murmuring encouragement, Riley turned Jayne to a
three-quarters-facing position toward their audience. "It helps
keep the pack's weight here, where it belongs."
    His knuckles nudged her hips. A thousand
memories rushed forward at his touch—memories of him cradling her
close during a kiss, raising her hips while he entered her,
tickling her while they cuddled together afterward. Didn't he
realize this position was just like vertical spooning? Didn't he
remember spooning was one of her favorite things?
    Helplessly, Jayne glanced at Riley's profile
while he looked over her shoulder to fasten the hip belt buckle.
His jaw held the merest hint of dark, late-afternoon stubble. His
mouth pursed in concentration. His eyes...met hers as the buckle
clicked into place.
    He realized, all right. He
remembered . And he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Unfortunately, she was trapped for the rest of it.
    Her whole body quivered. Riley's voice
filled the room as he went on explaining about pack fitting, but
Jayne heard almost none of it. Her mind was occupied with blocking
out memories of his touch, ignoring the reawakening their contact
caused now, staying the course she'd set for herself.
    How could she have believed herself over
him?
    She was , Jayne told herself firmly.
The touch of any good-looking man would have caused this reaction.
Especially after the several nearly-celibate months she'd recently
spent. Her night-table companion Mr. Buzzy, she had to admit, just
wasn't the same as a real live— geez , his touch felt good.
She was only human, Jayne struggled to convince herself further,
with a woman's natural susceptibility to a sexy man's—
    Was that what she thought that
was, grazing her backside?
    Was Riley as affected by their nearness as
she was?
    A trickle of hope filled her. So long as he
wasn't as unruffled as his carefree expression suggested, Jayne
still stood a chance. She still might escape this week as confident
as she'd entered it.
    Having adjusted the pack's shoulder straps,
Riley stepped from behind her. Something swung free as he did.
Another buckle, Jayne realized as she eyed it dispiritedly. What
she'd mistaken for helpless ardor had merely been...a rogue
fastener.
    Sigh .
    Waitaminute . She wasn't disappointed.
Riley could keep all his... buckles to himself, for all she
cared. She didn't care if she ever saw his... buckle again.
Ever.
    Unwanted, a risqué vision rose in her mind.
Riley, wearing nothing but a pack. Riley, gloriously naked save
some strategically-placed belts. Riley, wearing a smile and a
come-and-get-it grin as he proudly showed off the part of him that
had made so many erotic adventures possible between them. Riley,
Riley— no .
    Oblivious to her stupidly wandering
thoughts, he fastened the pack's shoulder straps. His movements
stirred the air between them, making her too aware of his clean
masculine scent. His familiar scent. If she didn't free
herself from this demonstration soon, Jayne realized, she just
might crack.
    There were only so many sensory