Jen's Legacy.
We'll stay here for the night, at least.

Royce swung off his backpack, unstrapped his sleeping bag and plastic covers, opening it up at the back of the overhang, then sat Claire down on one of the larger logs.

Dropping to his knees he swept the wet hair back from her face where the wind had blown it, took his jacket off her, then undid and stripped off her shirt and shorts without any complaint from her; barely hesitating himself to admire or to touch, as he so wanted to, dropping them both to one side as he unzipped and opened up his sleeping bag around her; lifting her, bringing it under her and tucking it in around her, and letting it get her dry and warm. He would dry it around the fire, later. He turned it inside-out to save her from encountering any damp areas that they’d left in it from the excitement of the previous night each time they had progressed toward making proper love. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Sit there and rest, get warm. I’ll start a fire, get some food going and bring in some more wood before it gets any worse.”

He could dry their clothes out once he’d got a fire going, which was the next order of business.

There were even a few shreds of old birch-bark up against the rock wall behind a log, and a pile of finer twigs to get a fire started, but he had to make sure he had everything he needed, putting it within her reach to keep the fire going, once he’d started it.

Fire would be their savior in this weather, so he had better make sure there was enough wood for tonight at least and maybe for a second night if things turned really bad.

She watched what he did, thankful to be out of that cold rain, which still had a few large snowflakes mixed in with it.

It would be a cold night, and they would need each other. After the previous night, that thought of sharing her warmth with a naked man no longer frightened her, but excited her.

Her muscles were stiffening up already, having been called upon to walk more than she had walked for many years, and over rough terrain.

He was methodical in everything he did, even laying his wet jacket over one of the logs he’d just brought in to begin to dry, once the fire took hold.

He often looked across at her, seeing her smiling at him, knowing what was on his mind—what was always on his mind--when he looked at her like that.

Turning back to her, he lifted the sleeping bag higher on her to cover her head.

“I’ll get a pan of water heating too, so that we can get something hot to drink, and then we can make up for that lunch.”

He still had some of the dried beef to cut up, and that should be added at the beginning, to soften up and not be so chewy, and a few other things to add to the soup, but they’d get some tea or coffee, first. He was down to his last few teabags, but he’d brought more food than he would ever need for himself, always thinking of the worst.

He unpacked almost everything from his pack, laying his rope aside where it would stay dry, digging down until he found another pack of soup mix, and a can of spam he’d been saving. It had been folded out of sight in that hat, and that explained why she hadn’t seen it that previous night.

The empty can from the spam would serve as another cup for them, rather than drinking soup or tea directly from the pan as they passed it back and forth, and risked spilling it with it being hot.

“I’ve left more wood there, to make it up”—he indicated where— “but I have to drag in some more wood and even a couple more logs. I am not going far. Before it gets dark, I should lay some plastic down to collect rainwater if the trickle of water over the edge doesn’t begin, though I think it soon will, after what has come down so far.”

She moved forward to sit down in the sand, her back against the log, moving closer to the fire, where she could more easily keep it going, opening herself up to its warmth, and to where he would be able to see more of her body opened up to him with her legs far apart. She knew he would always want to see that about her.

He leaned in and kissed her as she opened the sleeping bag up even more from her, bringing it around them both as he moved closer to her, kissing her breasts and then her again. Her breasts did not feel as warm as they should be, but that would soon change.

Claire’s stomach was growling in hunger, so he opened the spam, cut it into pieces in the can and fished pieces out for them both to eat until it was gone, then gave her a piece of the dried beef to chew on as he went into the rain, to collect more wood. He did not feel the cold as she did, but then he would be moving and working all of the time, sending trails of water vapor rising from the shoulders of his wet shirt.

He came back from time to time, hauling more wood which he rolled into the back of the overhang and went out for more that he’d discovered, eventually feeling satisfied that they had more than enough for the night, with more to spare if the storm continued for longer than he expected.

None of it was soaked through yet, so it would soon dry out near the fire. He’d break it up later on a sharp piece of basalt at the edge of the shelter, or put the entire piece into the fire and feed it in, as it burned.

No sooner had he done that than he was gone again, carrying a plastic sheet with him that he would lay on the edge of the gully somewhere close by, to collect water. He’d weight it with stones to stop it blowing around and elevate the edge to hold water within it, and then bring another large piece of wood back with him when he returned for what he hoped was the last time.

When he came back, he pushed the ends of a couple of the logs into the fire where they would dry out and burn slowly, checked his pan, heating on a flat rock by the fire, and then walked over to Claire with the pan of tea and the empty spam can.

“Are you warming up any?”

She nodded sending a few drops of water from her hair down her face. He pushed his hand into the sleeping bag and checked her middle and her upper thighs for warmth, startling her once or twice, but in a nice way this time, then passed her some of the tea to warm her up from the inside, filling his pan again to get started next, on their last meal of the day.

She was pleased to note that he was worried about her? He was much wetter than she was, yet he didn’t seem to feel it with all of the things he still had to do.

He reached out for her shirt, drier now, and used it to dry her hair and down behind her neck as well as on her bare shoulders, then moved to her legs, drying them too, getting her to put her legs apart for him again so that he could dry between them and behind them without hesitation now, even leaning in to kiss her there as he had that previous night too, setting her laughing and squirming. He pulled the hat over her head. Her breasts were much warmer now.

“The fire has a good start, so you can open up that sleeping bag even more from you, sit forward, and let the fire’s warmth get to more of your body and your legs,” just as he would like to be doing; getting closer to her there.

“I promise that I will closely watch everything you do, my love, and admire everything I see of you as I worship you and slowly melt away under the onslaught of your wonderful body.”

She smiled at his unrelenting and open admiration of her in his love for her, worshipping him too, in her own way; reveling in his open love for her.

She did as he suggested, sitting forward, opening the sleeping bag from her, closing her eyes as she got warmer, feeling the warmth of the fire get to her as she sat closer to it, opening up her legs even more to feel the warmth on her damp inner thighs, and damn what it looked like (he was the only one who could see her, and he wanted to see her, just as much as she wanted him to see her). Soon, she would have to move back from the blaze.

He picked up some of the wood he’d brought in and broke what he could over that rock, ten feet out from them, bringing the pieces in out of the rain, as well as sweeping the smaller pieces under their shelter, using the sides of his feet, admiring what he could see of her more, every time he came close, seeing her relax even more as she smiled up at him, wondering when he would be unable to resist the open temptation and join her; hold her; embrace her; go into her.

“It will be dark in another hour, so I’ll see what else I can do, but I can also hear that trickle of water starting to fall over the edge. We should be alright for water for tomorrow, but as we were heading for the river anyway it wouldn’t much have mattered.”

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