Rings of Fire Ch. 04

Lauren forced her eyes away from those crystal blue pools whose depths threatened to drown her, or her last shred of sanity anyway.

"I thought you were going to show me around," she challenged Brent. She needed the distraction. Desperately. This man was doing things to her. Things that she had thought long since dead. Things that only he had ever done to her. Her mind. And her body.

Brent cleared his throat and nodded. He took her hand in his. When she made to draw back, he squeezed her fingers a bit. "There are rocks and holes in the ground. You could twist your ankle in those heels if you aren't careful. And I know how much you love wild animals, so I'm just trying to keep you close by."

Lauren nodded at the mention of anything wild. It was a running joke with them. Since the year that another girl at science camp had put a frog in her bunk. When she found it, she had screamed so loudly that the whole camp came running. Of course, Brent was there first. And like a true hero lifted the offending creature and carried it safely outside.

Over the years it was a pattern that had been repeated time and again as they traveled the globe following disaster after disaster. Brent would check each path, the tent where they usually stayed, and, of course, their sleeping bag for anything that moved - except him of course.

"Still my girly girl I see. How have you managed any field work at all these past few years with that phobia of yours?"

Lauren ignored his use of her pet name. "I am a big girl now, Brent. I have learned to face my fears and not give into them." She only hoped that she would be as successful at not giving into other emotions, especially where this man was concerned.

"I always knew you were stronger than you think, Lauren. I just wish that we could have grown stronger together as a family." Tugging her hand, he led her towards an outcropping of satellites, wind turbines, and solar panels. A pre-fabricated building sat next to it.

"This is the command center. It houses a collection of computers, televisions, and short wave radios. It also serves as a meeting place for a lot of people here. Of course, most people here have their laptop that they use at home, and we all get satellite Internet and television."

He shrugged as she surveyed the area, "But this place houses the scientific team that collects the data from various locations: USGS, Kilauea, Yellowstone and a couple of Icelandic observatories as well. We feed this data into the forecast model I showed you so we can make constant updates."

As they arrived at the metal doors, Brent pushed them open, stepping back a bit to let her pass. It was a tight squeeze, and Lauren's breast brushed against his arm as she did. Her nipple pebbled instantly. She cursed her own body that seemed determined to betray her.

But a quick intake of breath from Brent told her, she was not alone in this minefield of desire. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and the passion she saw in his blue depths was every bit as intense as it had been the first time they made love.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be. I'm not. Touching you was always my salvation. No matter how badly the world was falling apart around us, I knew as long as I had you to hold everything would be all right in the end," his voice was a deep caress close to her ear so that no one else could overhear.

"Brent," she whispered.

In an instant, his expression changed. He was back to the cool, efficient scientist. "Come on; I'll show you around. Introduce you to a few people," he said almost as if she were merely some colleague come to visit.

"Fine."

Brent smiled and waved to a couple of people congregating in the large, glass-enclosed room that looked for the world like the worst of any academic break room. He led them into the enclosure, careful this time to give her plenty of room to pass.

Unlike other command centers, Lauren noticed that rather than expensive vending machine hawking high calorie, low nutrition food with even higher prices, there was a table in the corner with some cheese, jams, and what appeared to be fresh homemade whole wheat bread. Her stomach took that moment to growl, a reminder that she had not eaten yet.

Brent looked at her. "Damn, I am so sorry, Lauren. Why didn't you say something? I got so caught up dealing with Jason and security earlier that I completely forgot. You have not eaten yet this morning." Turning to an older, bald man who was trying to get his attention, he said, "I'll be with you in a minute, Stan. Just let me get Lauren something to eat first."

"It's alright. I can manage on my own," she reassured him.

***

Brent nodded, "Of course you can. You have been for seven years," his voice was laced with bitterness and pain as he turned his back to her and walked over to his chief of technology.

"Hey, Stan, what do you need?"

"Wanted to let you know that I fed the latest set of data on the Katla eruption into the simulation, but it still is not quite coming out right," said the computer guru whom he had stolen from Jacobs Energy when he decided to retire.

"Thanks, has Monique looked it over?"

"Yeah, she had no luck with it either."

Brent looked through the glass as Lauren brought a piece of Jill's homemade bread to her mouth. He had trouble concentrating on anything as her eyes flared wide and she tilted her head back just a bit. It was almost the exact look of bliss that he had put on her face thousands of times when they made love.

How could he be so fucking jealous of a hunk of flour and yeast? But he was. He wanted to be the one making her moan softly at the back of her throat. Fuck that; he wanted to make her scream again.

He cursed his body as he shifted from one foot to the other, trying to relieve the tightness as his half hard cock pressed against the zipper. Maybe he should switch to wearing the ratty old sweat pants that he slept in, for the next week. Or until...

He forced his mind back from the thousands of 'what ifs' and turned back to Stan, "Hopefully, Lauren can make more sense of it than any of us did."

Stan nodded, "Your ex, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then you must be on better terms with yours than I am with mine," chuckled his friend.

"Nope, practically had to kidnap her. But I know the woman. She won't be able to resist the chance to prove me wrong for long. And if that ain't enough incentive, besting Monique will be." He watched as she opened those green eyes and brought the bread towards her lips again. "Excuse me. And thanks. We'll talk later."

***

Lauren ignored the twinge of regret that ate at her. Next to their daughters, Brent was the last person on the earth that she would ever want to hurt. But it was clear from his words that she had. Hurt him more deeply than she even realized. "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride," she told herself as she headed towards the table of food.

Slicing through the thick, dark crust, Lauren confirmed her suspicion. This was homemade bread, still warm from the oven. She slathered it with a touch of butter and strawberry jam, both of which also appeared to be homemade.

Her mouth awoke with sensation as she bit into it. The taste was better than anything she had ever had, even in the most elegant bistros. The nutty flavor of the whole wheat combined with the creaminess of home-churned butter with just a touch of salt was complimented perfectly by the sweetness of the strawberry jam, which she recognized had no added sugar; its natural taste sufficient for the most delicate pallet. The textures too were a mix of soft and firm, robust and sublime exploding in her mouth and sending sensations racing along nerve endings to her brain.

"Hmmm," she moaned as she took another bite, closing her eyes to savor this one.

"Don't do that again, sweetheart, or I might cum right here," she felt Brent's warm breath against the side of her face as he whispered.

Lauren's mind filled with erotic images that his words elicited. Except it was she, who was on the verge of coming at the moment. Her nipples budded beneath the soft silk of her blouse. His voice, his words, hell, just Brent's presence so close to her was more than her sex-starved body could handle.

She steadied her nerves for a moment; drawing in a deep breath, she turned to face him. "We can't do this, Brent. We need to talk."

"You're right," he replied, taking her hand and leading her towards the door.

Lauren was not sure where Brent was taking her. She followed him anyway. Outside into the increasingly hot late morning sun, across the desert sands, past the barn where they had left the girls.

"Shouldn't we check on the girls first?" she asked.

Brent shook his head, "They know their way around this place, and everyone knows them. We all sort of look out for one another's kids. They will be perfectly safe."

Lauren wanted to protest that Elise had been more troubled lately, but she remembered the look on her daughter's face when she held that brush and stroked the pony. Perhaps Brent was right.

On the other side of the barn, there was a small selection of a dozen or so all-terrain vehicles. Brent selected a four-wheeler and handed her a helmet. "Put this on."

Lauren buckled the helmet as she watched Brent do the same. He kick started the machine and motioned for her to get on behind him. Lauren considered protesting. Sitting on the back of the dangerous vehicle, her arms wrapped about his waist, her front pressed against his broad back was not what she needed at that moment. But the determined look in Brent's eyes pleaded with her.

Shaking her head at her stupidity, she climbed on behind him. She had no choice but to wrap her arms about his waist, lacing her fingers together just above his belt buckle. But she did all that she could to keep a couple of precious inches between the rest of their bodies.

That was not easy as Brent revved the engine, sending the machine lurching forward, her breasts brushed against the soft chambray of his plaid shirt. She was helpless to stop a soft moan that sounded remarkably similar to the one elicited by the fresh bread, but this sensation was far more intense.

She did not think it was possible that Brent could hear her over the tin of the engine, but something was driving him. He gunned the engine, sending them racing even faster across the desert and away from the settlement.

***

Brent tried his damnedest to remain focused on his driving as the desert flora and fauna sped past. But the sweet way her whole upper body pressed against his back was a new form of torture.

Was it his imagination or had her nipples hardened into tight little eraser the moment that they touched him? Did that mean she was feeling the attraction as intensely as he was?

Oh, he knew that Lauren had always been attracted to him, but these past few years she had grown so cold and aloof that he just figured she was over him.

Until she had somehow ended up in his arms while they slept. Now he was not so sure.

The idea that these fires burned as brightly for her was reassuring. Even if it was false, it gave him hope that they might somehow find their way back to that thin strip of common ground upon which they had once built their paradise.

Brent felt intense guilt as he sent a silent entreaty to Fate, the only god he was remotely comfortable acknowledging...and then reluctantly. Nonetheless, he pleaded for more time. More than just a week to convince this woman that their love was worth another chance.

Problem was for them to have another chance people would have to die, lots of them. So, he was torn between wanting to be right and hoping that Lauren could prove him wrong once and for all. He shook his head, but his gut told him that he was not. Not this time.

He gunned the engine and headed towards an outcropping of rocks just over the ridge. He had no idea how this one would end. Probably in another screaming match like most of the last two years of their marriage. But at least their daughters would not see or hear it this far from the settlement.

Of course, some part of him hoped for an eruption of another kind.

***

Lauren was not sure how long they traveled or how far. It was hard for her to keep track of time when she was around Brent; it always had been.

She remembered the summer science camp when she had been thirteen. Her body and mind were beginning to catch up to one another. And while she was not entirely sure about this whole sex thing, she had guiltily read more than one of Grandmam's romance novels. Kissing definitely sounded like fun. And there was only one boy that she wanted to kiss. Her infinitely more mature, sixteen-year-old best friend.

One night she and Brent had stayed out late talking. They realized they had missed curfew; what they did not know was that it was after two in the morning. Not only had they lost privileges and come very close to being sent home, but rumors spread around the camp that it was far more than talk they had been doing.

Lauren had tried to ignore them. The rumors had led to more than one hot dream about what it would have been like if it were true. Brent, on the other hand, had blown his top. He had given one boy a black eye when he made a comment at lunch about Lauren's virtue. They had learned their lesson. They were careful for the rest of the summer to stay close to their crowd and make curfew.

But they weren't kids anymore. And Brent had dispensed with Lauren's virtue long ago.

None of that mattered. This man still drove her insane. This trip was proof of that. How the hell had she ended up in the middle of the West Texas desert with her ex-husband anyway?

She did not have time to answer that question as Brent pulled the four-wheeler over near an outcropping of rocks and trees that provided an oasis of sorts. He got off first, walking to the trees, and rustling them a bit. A couple of small mice fled the underbrush.

"Coast is clear, my lady," he announced.

Lauren laughed, "Sir Galahad?"

He chuckled, "More like a good old boy, I am afraid."

"I'm pretty certain that they are the modern-day equivalent."

"Besides...I'm not nearly as pure of mind or body as the great Sir Galahad. And that's what we need to talk about," he answered as he began to pace back and forth among the trees.

Lauren knew that pacing meant one thing; Brent was trying to figure something out. And she had a pretty good idea what. "What are we going to do about us, Brent?"

He looked up at her. "So, it isn't my imagination? You feel it too?"

She nodded, "I honestly thought after seven years, all that fighting and the divorce...this thing between us would have died."

"But it hasn't. The fire is as hot as ever," he quickened his pace and ran his fingers through his hair. "Hell, I think it might even be heating up more."

Lauren wanted to deny the truth of his words, but she could not. They had always had remarkable chemistry. Over the past seven years when they had seen one another at conferences or when Brent picked up and dropped off their daughters, Lauren had braced herself for days and sometimes weeks of vivid, erotic dreams. Hell, she even made sure that her drawer was stocked with extra batteries, knowing that her toys were certain to get extra work out trying to relieve the need.

Which made her decision to follow Brent now even more ridiculous. "How the hell did I think I could spend..."

"...a week with you and not want to..." he finished for her.

She nodded as they both left the 'to' unsaid. It hung in the still, hot air.

"What the hell we gonna do?"

"We could try to avoid one another," Lauren suggested.

"This ranch maybe two thousand acres but most of it is undeveloped. The compound itself is just three acres and hell, Lauren, if an ocean between us didn't work, what makes you think that getting lost on this place would?"

Lauren nodded, "But we could try focusing on the girls and our work. I mean if you believe your theories, then you must be damned busy right now."

"Too damned busy. There are a thousand things I need to be doing, sweetheart, and the only thing I seem to be able to think about is you. The way you smell like honey even after a nine-hour flight and being in a barn full of animals."

"The way you purred like a kitten over that damned bread. All I could fucking think about was how you used to moan the same way when I entered you," Brent was frantically pacing. He did not even look up, studying the dusty toes of his cowboy boots as if they held the answers he sought to this predicament.

Lauren watched the fluid flow of muscle beneath the worn cotton shirt. His tight jeans molded to his thighs and ass. The bulge behind that zipper left no doubt how tormented her ex-husband was at the moment. She remembered vividly the power that coursed through her body each time she would teasingly play with his zipper.

She was not the only moaner. Although honestly, Brent was more like a growler. Deep rumbles from his chest that reminded her of harmonic tremors that were almost certain pre-cursors to volcanic eruptions.

Thinking aloud, she began, "Then it seems we have only one option left. When a magma chamber fills with enough melt, the only way to release it is..."

***

"...an eruption." He stopped dead and stared at her. Was she giving credence to the dreams that he had only dared to hope for? "What are you saying, Lauren?"

"I'm saying...some things are inevitable. The only thing we can do when a volcano reaches that point is to move people to safety, then stand back and enjoy the fireworks."

Brent sucked in a deep breath as the power of her words hit his brain like a pyroclastic flow leveling all sense of reasoning. "So, you're suggesting..."

"...that we screw our brains out for the next week," Lauren bluntly stated. "But with conditions, Brent. I don't want Megan or anyone else confused by this. This is nothing more than a volcanic eruption - an irresistible force of nature that we can do nothing to stop. Both of us need to recognize that and protect those around us."

Brent shook his head. He knew that Megan was far more astute than Lauren was giving her credit for. In all likelihood, no matter how hard they tried, their daughter would figure it out. But he was not in the mood to argue at the moment.

He had much better ways of expending his nervous energy, "I think you are underestimating our daughter and what she is capable of understanding. But I can see your point."

"And Brent, this changes nothing. At the end of this week, you take the girls and me home. This is sex, pure and simple."

Those were not the words that he wanted to hear at the moment. To be reminded that his ex-wife was using him for sex...no better than some fucking dildo with a pulse. He frowned at the bluntness of it.

But in truth, while his mind might want to argue, his body was going to win this round. Hands down. Even if he ended up regretting it later.

Besides, perhaps it was a bargaining chip that he could use. A tool in his never-ending war to remind her of just how good they were together. How good they always had been. Stronger as a team.

If they were heating up the sheets as well as working side by side like they used to, it would be another opportunity to draw her into his web. Like Jason had said, you caught more flies with honey than vinegar.

Honey...his mind went down a long winding path at the thought of slathering her body in it and slowly licking it off. Hell, he might even find some rope and give some of the kinky ideas he always heard Samuel and Daniel joke about a whirl.

How would he feel about being on the receiving end the way Daniel sometimes let his wife? The rustling behind the zipper that made his jeans even more uncomfortable was the only answer he needed. He promised himself that sometime during the next week they would try both.