Free PleasureBound by Kat Black

the chest, the
rejection devastating. “Adam?” She reached for him again only to have him step
back to avoid the contact.
    “Just leave it, Sam, please,” he snapped before closing his
eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “I won’t—I can’t—” The muscle in his cheek
worked as the rest of whatever he was trying to say seemed to stick in the back
of his mouth. After a moment he spun away toward the door. “You win. Go and
have your bath and pack whatever you need for the night. I’m heading back to
the pool for a few more laps.”
    Left standing numb and dumb, Sam stared after his retreating
back. What the hell had she done?

Chapter Seven
     
    Adam didn’t think he’d ever been subjected to a mode of
transport quite as uncomfortable, or as foul-smelling, as a camel. Rubbed raw
against the curved leather seat of the saddle, his ass ached like nobody’s business,
while further up, his brain felt close to boiling in his skull under the
swathes of cotton fabric he’d wrapped around his head and face to help protect
from the eye-watering stench surrounding him.
    And in all honesty, he couldn’t have been happier with his
predicament. The effort alone of staying atop his lolloping mount took enough
concentration to keep his mind off more disturbing issues, and the occasional
temperamental antics of the creatures helped ease the underlying tension
between him and Sam, leaving them at times doubled over with laughter as they
made their lurching progress through a golden sea of sand dunes.
    When eventually their guides led them over a stretch of
harder, flatter ground and into the small desert camp that was to be their home
for the night, he felt worn enough to view the tiny oasis and cluster of
Bedouin tents, already populated with industrious staff, as the most luxurious
accommodation in the world.
    He noted that Sam had weathered the journey no better than
himself, groaning as she all but fell from her saddle. Stumbling around like a
newborn foal trying to get some life back into her stiff legs, she had the
guides grinning with amusement, but Adam found he couldn’t join in with the
general sense of humor. Not when he felt a deep pang of guilt to know the
physical challenges of the day had to have been much harder for her to cope
with after the treatment he’d subjected her to last night. Despite Sam’s
assurances, he still couldn’t excuse his behavior in having manhandled her so
roughly.
    At some point, he knew they were going to have to tackle
this thing head-on—have to stop pretending it wasn’t standing between them like
a hairy, nine-hundred-pound gorilla. So far, he’d failed to get any sort of
handle on his feelings, and he was given no time to ponder the implications
just then as they were ushered directly into the shade of the handful of trees
grouped around the small watering hole. There, a couple of folding chairs and a
table had been set up to receive them, and they both gratefully began
discarding various layers of protective wear, allowing sweaty skin and hair to
cool in the air as they moistened their dry throats with the ubiquitous
welcoming glasses of mint tea.
    With the sun already dipping low in the cloudless sky and
casting lengthening shadows, the delicious smells of their evening meal wafted
from where it was being prepared over an open fire pit a short distance away
beside one of the small service tents.
    Informed that dinner would be served just after sunset, Adam
and Sam were directed to the largest tent in the camp in order to wash and
change for their comfort. Ducking into the interior, he heard Sam gasp beside
him as their eyes adjusted to the dimness and revealed a boudoir straight out
of an Arabian Nights fantasy.
    “It’s amazing,” Sam announced with delight, and as Adam
looked around, he had to agree. A selection of colorful kilim rugs covered the
hard-packed ground in overlapping layers, and decorated the canvas walls.
Folding wooden stools sat dotted around a central