Page 66 of Reset

“Stats, it really isn’t. You’re assuming it’s one brick deep, but it could be way more solid than that. There’s no way of knowing. Go clean up, and once we’ve eaten, we’ll look for another option.”

With a frustrated huff, Sarah went back to the tap they’d found near the blocked exit. At least they had water now, which meant they’d both drank their fill. And that brought other problems. The far corner, in the darkest part of the cavern, was now the designated bathroom.

Ryan was right—she needed to clean up. She felt feral. If only there was soap. If—when—she got out of here, she was going to hoard soap like it was going out of fashion. All kinds and colors. Every scent under the sun. Her house would be filled with it.

Right now, all she could do was use an antibacterial wipe as a cloth and clean up as best she could.

“Don’t peek,” she ordered Ryan as she undid the zipper in her skirt and pulled it down over her hips.

“I let you peek when I cleaned up.” He grinned at her. “Actually, I’m pretty sure it was more staring than peeking.”

Her cheeks flushed at the memory. “You stripped without any warning. What was I supposed to do?”

“Turn away?”

“You caught me by surprise, and I slipped into a shocked state.”

“Stunned is more like it. I saw you drooling.”

Oh, she’d totally been drooling. It was like watching a Michelangelo sculpture come to life. And then, there was water sliding over his biceps and pecs, over his shorts to his glorious thighs. Yeah. There’d been drooling. She’d only caught herself when he’d hooked his thumbs into his boxer shorts and cocked an eyebrow at her. Then she’d turned away.

Why had she turned away?

It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen it all before.

“Because you aren’t going there with Ryan, remember?” she muttered to herself.

“You say something?” Ryan called.

“Talking to myself, don’t worry about it.” Trying to talk some sense into herself, more like. A few kisses shared during a stressful situation didn’t make for a relationship. Not that she wanted a relationship. The thought of sitting at home waiting to find out if Ryan had made it back from a mission in one piece was stomach churning. She knew herself, and there was no way she could cope with that.

Yes, a relationship was definitely out. Even if he wanted one, which he’d made no indication that he did. But surely there was nothing wrong in getting a little solace? Some hot, sweaty, mind-blowing solace?

She rolled her eyes at herself. No matter how politely she put it, she was just looking for an excuse to jump the man. Any excuse. Hell, at this point, “I tripped and fell onto your penis” would work fine.

“Nearly ready for round two,” Ryan called, making her jump.

“Round two?” Was that a squeak in her voice?

“Mushrooms.” He held up her handbag, which he’d been using to collect his latest harvest. “We can eat again whenever you’re ready.”

“Yes, of course, mushrooms.” Which was not where her dirty mind had gone. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

It didn’t worry her that he’d starve while he waited. Not only had they already munched their way through his first collection, but he’d been snacking while he picked the new ones—even though she’d warned him to wash them first.

She sighed. If he could eat a fried spider, he’d survive a grubby mushroom.

Slipping her underwear off without removing her blouse or skirt, a trick all women learned early, Sarah washed out her bra and panties, wrung them tight, and hooked them on a nearby rock to dry.

“I’m getting washed now. Don’t turn round,” she told him.

“That hardly seems fair,” he protested. But he was in the far corner of the room, and if she could barely see him, he could barely see her.

They’d left the phone balanced on some dirt halfway between them, and the glow was just enough to enable her to see what she was doing. Sarah stripped off the rest of her clothes and made fast work of washing her body as thoroughly as she was able. When she was done, she struggled into the damp underwear and then rinsed her blouse and skirt. Or what was left of them. Basically they were rags now.

She hesitated, considering putting her clothes back on, but Ryan was only in his boxers, and her underwear covered more than most bikinis. Plus, it wasn’t like she was shy. People just assumed that her reserved nature equated with shyness. But deep inside, where no one could see, Sarah had a wild side. One that was whispering to her to remove her underwear, saunter over to Ryan, and see what happened.

She kept it on.