Jack was right about the weather. I glanced out the window to see some dark clouds forming, blocking out the sun, and I knew were in for some kind of storm, heavy rain at the very least.

After we finished visiting each shop on the street, we went to some of the local public spaces, and Jack stapled flyers to any free signage boards we could find. Man, he looked hot when he hammered a stapler into cork board. I think I might have drooled a little just from watching him.

The next time we stepped outside, I felt a drop of rain hit the top of my head. Moments later, it was pouring down. Jack took my hand in his and pulled me along, but we still got drenched. It was summer in France, and neither one of us was wearing a coat. Stupid unpredictable weather. Running didn’t stop us from getting soaked, and our clothes were saturated when Jack tugged me under a bus shelter with him, both our chests heaving as we tried to catch our breaths.

His long sleeved T-shirt was glued to his chest, and I had a hard time looking away. I glanced up at him for a second and caught him smirking. A small, nervous giggle escaped me, and he laughed softly, looking across the street and brushing his long, wet hair away from his face. I actually thought he looked a little bit shy for a second. It made him seem so young.

“How old are you?” I blurted, and he gave me a sideways glance.

“Twenty-six.” He must have seen the surprised look on my face as he continued, brow arching, “How old did you think I was?”

“You know what, I’m actually not sure. Sometimes you seem young, then other times you seem really wise and, I don’t know, sort of unreachable.”

He stared at me for a long time but didn’t say anything.

I shivered in my damp clothes as the rain continued to pound down on the roof of the shelter, and I knew, I just knew by the way Jack’s gaze was growing heated that my nipples were peeking through my top. I couldn’t even bring myself to look, so I simply folded my arms across my chest to hide my embarrassment. An old lady came and stood under the shelter, lowering her umbrella and shaking out the rain. She peered at us and muttered something in French about us catching our death with no coats on. Because she looked a little bit like my Gran, my mind wandered and I imagined her looking down on me, proudly watching my circus adventure unfold.

A moment later Jack was in front of me, his hands, which were surprisingly warm, cupping my neck, his thumbs massaging into my throat.

“Sorry you got wet,” he said, and his words dripped with sexual undertones.

I shrugged, trying to play off how his expression alone was practically drying all my clothes. His eyes scorched, and I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth, silently begging for his sensual lips to kiss me. An engine sounded to our left, and I turned to see a bus approach.

“Will this one take us back to the campsite?” I asked.

Jack nodded and laced his fingers through mine, pulling me onto the bus. The driver seemed annoyed that we were dripping water everywhere, but Jack just stared at him, unconcerned, and paid both our fares. He tugged me down to sit on his lap, and his arms went around my waist, his face pressing into my shoulder as he exhaled. His breath was hot, warming up my skin through the fabric, and a pleasurable shiver danced along my spine. My wet jeans were starting to itch. Add that to my urgent need for Jack simmering between my thighs, and I was about ready to combust.

I reached up and began running my fingers through his wet hair, trying to get out some of the tangles. He seemed to melt into my touch, and I savoured the simple act of grooming him. When his eyes met mine again, they were full of affection, and I thought he liked me touching his hair. I made a mental note to do it often.

It was still raining when the bus dropped us off at the campsite. Startling me, Jack scooped me up and deftly swung me onto his back. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck as he ran fast, and even with me on his back, it felt effortless. The rain sailed past us, or was it us sailing past the rain? With Jack, I felt like even the laws of physics could be broken.

My heart beat wildly. There was something intoxicating about being so close to him, being cared for by him, because I got the feeling Jack had never been like this with a girl before. It made it all the more significant, made my heart feel sore and not sore all at once. I suspected Jack’s encounters with women in the past had been unemotional and quick. All about the sex. The shame he felt about the desires he held and what they arose from had kept him from getting too close to anyone.

I wanted to wash away that shame, show him that though things could be born of darkness, with the right person you could make them light.

When we reached his camper, he pushed open the door and stepped in, gently lowering his body so I could climb off his back. I looked around, unsure what my next move should be, when all of a sudden he bent to one knee and began carefully untying my laces. As I watched him, the air left my lungs and my heart felt fuller.

I was falling.

“There are towels in the bathroom that you can use. The water should be warm,” he said, and then stood once he’d relieved me of my shoes and socks. He wanted me to take a shower. Wordlessly, I went inside his bathroom, which was larger than the one in Violet’s camper. Well, it was still small, but at least here I didn’t keep knocking off the sink when I tried to get to the toilet. I could hear him moving around outside as I shut the door, and my pores tingled as I stripped out of my sodden jeans and top. Jack’s proximity to my naked skin made me clench my thighs together with longing. I yearned to see him totally bare so I could kiss and lick and suck every corner of his glorious body.

I turned the shower on and waited for the water to get hot, and when I stepped under the spray, my throat felt tight as I silently wished for him to come inside and join me. I felt like I’d been waiting forever, but the door never budged. Sighing in disappointment, I wrapped up in one of the clean, dry towels that hung from a rack and stepped out into the living area. Having used the shampoo and shower gel in his bathroom, I now smelled like him. I breathed it in, and it smelled like home.

I stopped when I saw him by the sink, using some paper towels to dry his face. God, even with the burn scar, his back was perfect, all broad and muscled, his skin deeply tanned. All he had on was his boxer shorts, his clothes discarded.

He turned when he heard my footsteps on the floor, and his eyelids grew hooded as he took me in.

“Feel better?”

I nodded and concentrated on the drops of rain trickling down the window, the beat of it as it hammered onto the roof of the camper.

“What’s wrong?”

I cleared my throat, my voice a self-conscious whisper. “I thought….it’s silly, but I thought you might join me.” Could I be blushing any more furiously right now? “In the shower, I mean.”

His lips twitched and a smile formed, and I knew he hadn’t expected me to say that. “Have you seen my shower?”

I frowned. “Uh, yeah.”

“And have you seen the size of me?” he went on. Some dirty part of my brain made my mind wander to things other than his height. “It’s painful to admit, but that is not a two-person shower, Lille,” he said, taking a step toward me until his hands were warming my shoulders. “If it were, I’d have been there, fucking you against the tiles with my tongue.”

Jesus, now there was a visual. All of a sudden, my head was full of his mouth between my legs, his tongue sliding inside me, all wet and warm and delicious. I trembled, and he growled as he backed me up until I was stepping over the threshold of his bedroom. My thighs hit the mattress before I fell backwards onto the thick navy blanket.