Till all the stars go blue [Chaennie]

Chapter 13

Jennie sat up and threw her head back, tossing her wild hair back off her face. Her face was damp and tendrils clung here and there. She was panting, Rosie could see her chest heaving.

Jennie licked her lips and smiled down at Rosie, dark eyes flashing wickedly. Her hand was planted firmly on the center of Rosie's chest and she used it for leverage as she worked the strong muscles of her upper thighs and rocked herself back and forth against Rosie's hips. Rosie thrust her own hips up to increase the contact.

Wet friction in the most delicate of places when applied by the rolling hips of one Jennie Berry could be a wonderful, wonderful thing. Rosie brought her hands up to hold Jennie by the hips, encouraging her.

Oh my god, Rosie wanted to close her eyes, just roll them back and melt into the mattress beneath her, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from Jennie's face or the crazy delicious swaying of her breasts or the way that star pendant ever so often brushed against her rock-hard nipple. All of it and the feel of Jennie writhing and grinding on top of her was...blue flame.

"Oh, fuck, Rosie," Jennie groaned, her head falling forward as she leaned down on her hand.

"There, Jennie," Rosie moaned, " Just keep hitting... right... there. Yes, yes."

Rosie woke with a gasp. She was panting and her body was bathed in sweat. As was always her first instinct these days, she looked for Jennie. She was sleeping soundly next to her, face down on her stomach, her hair spilling into her face. She had one hand resting across Rosie's stomach.

Rosie wondered with a grin how someone who looked so positively angelic now when they were sleeping could be so wickedly naughty just hours before.

Bear.

The thought flashed into hear head out of nowhere. It had never really been gone since their fleeting encounter. She had been berating herself ever since for the things that she had done wrong about that issue, but it was the wee hours of the morning on the last day. She was actually justthisclose to thinking it was moot and giving herself a break.

She should have moved them out into the open, she should have kept the horses further away from the campsite, cooked further away. Thank goodness for Jennie's meatless habits, that is one plus they had in their favor.

She should have been more about noise and presence than peace and calm and, well, Jennie.

She had taken to carrying bear spray. She probably should have given it to Jennie as well, but she certainly knew enough to know that you just didn't give Jennie things, particularly things that could go awry. Besides, she hadn't let the girl out of her sight in 48 hours, so it was hardly much of an issue. If, God forbid, anything should happen, it was Rosie who was the first line of defense.

Nakedness was now bothering her. She gently moved Jennie's hand off of her and fumbled around for her clothes. She dressed quietly and quickly, not bothering with formalities like undergarments and socks.

She reached for the shotgun and checked that it was loaded. She had extra shells in her shirt pocket, but frankly, she knew that if six shells didn't do whatever they might need them to do, it was probably a lost cause.

She bent and rustled through her bag and pulled out her handgun. She pulled the clip and checked it was full and tucked into down in the back of her jeans. No, she had never told Jennie about it or showed her how to use it. If she wasn't going to trust her with bear spray she sure as hell wasn't going to give her a loaded .44. Besides, in this matter, she had more faith in the stopping power of the shotgun.

Rosie cautiously eased the zipper door open on the tent. She didn't want to risk trying to do it later if there was a need for urgency.

She heard her horse bluster and stomp. That was why she wanted him close to camp as much as anything. He could hear far better than she ever would. If he worried, she worried and now, he was worried.