Free Caught Between by Rima Jean Page B

"I promise it's only about staying warm. I'll keep my hands to myself. If you don't want to, we'll sneak you into Amy's room. No worries."
    He was giving her an out, and she wished he wouldn't. She took off her shoes and unbound her hair, then slipped into the sleeping bag wordlessly, her back to him. His warmth pervaded her body, and it felt so good. He reached around her and zipped up the sleeping bag, then moved his hand away from her. Not knowing why, she took his hand and wrapped his arm about her, clasping his fingers in her own. She moved back ever so slightly, pressing herself against him. She felt him respond, and his body molded to hers.
    " Marya..." His voice was hoarse. "Don't take it the wrong way... if I react to you. Your ass is pressed against my crotch, after all."
    She giggled, then turned to face him. She rubbed his bristly cheek with her fingers, offering him her lips. He took them with his, wasting no time to slip his tongue into her mouth. So different from Ash's kisses. She wasn't aware of her surroundings with Luke -- she was consumed by a white-hot fire.
    They floated in and out of sleep all night, and more often than not, their mouths were joined, their hands roaming over each ot her's bodies. He slid his hand under her shirt, into her bra. She thought she would die every time his fingers touched her skin. She pressed her hips to his, making him groan. "You're going to kill me, Marya," he breathed.
    When dawn broke, they were tangled together, a mound of body heat in the sleeping bag. Luke kissed her throat then lifted himself from her. He unzipped the bag and stood, and when Marya opened her eyes, he'd gone. She sat up, her body still humming from their strangely erotic night under the desert sky. She ran her fingers through her hair, grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste, and some toilet paper, then rushed down the stairs to the communal bathroom.
    She stared at her disheveled reflection in the mirror. A stranger stared back. Who was this young woman who was making out with a guy she barely knew in sleeping bag outside? Not Ali and Nisreen Helwe's daughter. She would never. Marya pressed her fingers to her swollen lips. What are you doing? Did it matter? She couldn't stop.
    She returned to the roof to find Luke packing up. He smiled at her and handed her a meat pastry. "Ready for Petra?"
    The others were still sleeping, so they went alone. Luke was a terrific guide, leading her through the Siq, a crack in the mountain that led to the ancient city, and describing the niches carved into the rocks for the gods. He knew everything about the ruins, and Marya was impressed by his knowledge yet again. It was part of what attracted her to him.
    Towards the end of the Siq, Marya stopped in her tracks, catching her breath. The Treasury, the most famous of the Nabataean monuments carved out of the mountains, was at the end of the crack, its rose-gold facade glittering in the morning sun. Luke leaned near her ear. "Savor it. It's the best part."
    Marya swiveled to a group of Japanese tourists following them through the Siq. "Will you take a picture of us?" she asked.
    As they posed, Marya whispered to Luke, "How many of these have you been in?" The thought that he'd been in several girls' Petra albums bothered her, but she pushed the feeling away. Nothing was going to ruin this moment for her.
    He chuckled. "Never enough."
    The Treasury was immense. Marya was in heaven. She craned her neck and shaded her eyes, ran from side to side, explored the cool inside and rushed back out again. Luke watched in amusement as she snapped picture after picture, ran her fingers over the red stone, pressed her face to the columns. When Luke finally dragged her away, they trekked through the Street of Facades, to the Theater, the Royal Tombs, and the High Place. At the top of the mountain that the ancient Nabataeans used for animal sacrifice, they sat on the stone altar and rested.
    "You like it?" Luke asked as they looked out over