Nadia half-woke to near darkness. She rolled to her side expecting to meet Khai's warm body and encountered damp nylon instead.

Her eyes flew open.

Everywhere hurt, from the top of her head to the tips of her toenails, in a muted, fuzzy kind of way. With the throbbing pain came disorientated memories: of rock and earth, terror and helplessness. Then hope and tenderness. Shadowy images of a body meeting hers with healing warmth. Pleasure, and lots of it. As her core heated, the soreness eased and she flushed.

Where was Khai? She reached out again for his body. For a moment her opiate fogged mind didn't comprehend the bouncy material beneath her fingers: an air mattress. She was in a tent ... the tent she shared with — Thomas.

Shit! She sat bolt upright, her breath coming in rapid, shallow breaths. They'd had sex — lots of sex. Oh, fuck!

More flashes from the night before hit her. The small space had hampered their mobility, but not their creativity. They'd tried to be quiet ...

Fucking hell, Nadia, an elephant walking through camp would've made less noise.

She flopped on to her back and let out a groan as a twinge pierced her abdomen. Had everyone heard them? All of a sudden, she couldn't breathe. She was going to be sick.

Nadia pushed herself off the bed in the direction of the exit. Her head rebounded off the fabric, and she bounced back. Suffocating, she fumbled for the elusive zip.

Sweet, fresh air filled her lungs as she crawled outside and sunk her fingers in the wet grass. She peered up through frosted breath. The Milky Way streaked across the sky in a ribbon of purple, navy and white. The black silhouettes of mountains hunched before it. To her left, a dark, jagged tree line; to her right, a soft, blue glow and the hum of the generator next to the toilet block.

Her breathing slowed. The remaining recollections from the day before slotted together in a cohesive picture. She had done nothing wrong.

Sadness replaced guilt. She wasn't angry about the fall, that had been unintentional — Khai had acted on impulse, like a cornered animal desperate to get away. In their own way, each of them had been to blame. What kind of dickheads decided to argue on the edge of a mountainside?

Nadia shook her head. At least he'd apologised. Unfortunately, not about what mattered to her.

A blunt pressure in her bladder made itself known. She really needed the bathroom, but the last thing she wanted to do was to move. If she went back to bed, she could grab the remaining minutes of sleep before they set off for the final leg of the journey.

They had hours of walking to do before daybreak, and she little rest. After they did it the first time, she had − fuelled by opiates, booze and Thomas − insisted on exploring the nearby ruins and waterfalls before joining the farewell drinks with the staff. Then they returned to their tent and did it some more. Lots more.

Oh, go get some shut-eye, Nadia, she told herself, you can pee in the morning. As if in response to the thought, the compression sharpened. Nope, not going to happen.

With a sigh, she retrieved her torch and jumper, slipped her thongs on her feet, and padded to the bathroom, vaguely wondering where Thomas had gone.

She was fully awake when she walked out of the toilets and stood in the flickering light of a fluorescent bulb. The world seemed foreign and silent, except for a faint electrical buzz above her, a cricket chirping in the foliage, and the rustle of leaves. A shiver crept down her spine, and she hugged her arms around her torso.

She sensed someone nearby. The scent of burning tobacco confirmed this. Hopeful, she followed the smell around one corner, and then another, to the far side of the structure where she saw a tiny red gleam.

As her eyes adapted to the dimness, a tall shape materialised. She made for it. It coughed, and she jumped.

"Nadia?"

"Thomas? How'd you know it was me?"

"Yes, it's me. You're still limping." His voice rose an octave as he spoke. "You should be in bed resting. It's late." He shrugged. "Or early, depending on how you want to look at it."

She scoffed. "You can talk," she said, watching transfixed as he moved toward her. "Besides, I needed the um ... loo."

He stopped a couple of feet away, the contours of his face standing out in preternatural planes of shadow and light. Eyes dark, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile as he raked a hand through tousled hair.

He inhaled on his cigarette, exhaled through his teeth, and spoke. "How are you?"

"Sore," she said. He flinched, and she faked a laugh. "Don't worry about me." She butted him playfully on the shoulder, trying to calm her nerves, lighten the mood, and reassure him all at the same time. "It's just a few bumps and bruises; I'll be right as rain before you know it."

His brows raised as she met his gaze. Tension crackled between them. Thomas sucked in again and looked away towards the valley, back straight and jaw set.

The pounding of her heart ratcheted up several knots as she waited for him to say something.

"I — I couldn't sleep," he said, at last, slumping, his words coming out with the hint of a stammer. "In my dreams, I kept seeing you falling ..."

His words faded into the gloom, and Nadia's chest clenched. Thomas' facade was slipping. All she wanted to do was reach out and comfort him. So, she did. Her fingertips pressed into the sleeve of his pullover. "It's okay. I'm here; I'm fine."

Thomas turned and stared at her with glinting eyes. "God, Nadia, I really need to know that right now!"

She squeezed his arm, stepping forward to cup his cheek with her hand. "I'm here."

The cigarette fell from his fingers, and his hands cradled her face as he kissed her urgently, filling her mouth with the ghost of tobacco, menthol and rum.

For a moment, she remembered Khai slept not fifty metres away, and a pang of regret shot through her.

Oh, fuck the wanker. Shoving her hesitation away, she placed her hands behind this neck and pulled him closer to her. He came willingly and directed her backwards.

As Nadia's back flattened against the concrete wall, Thomas hissed in her ear. "I thought I'd lost you." He nipped on the lobe and desire ripped through her. She groaned. His hands roved down to the drawstring of her sweatpants and paused. "I need to feel you, here."

She nodded, and his mouth returned to hers. He tugged. His foot came between her legs, forcing her trousers the rest of the way down. With flicks of her feet, she completed the task of removing them, so she stood before him, half-bare and prickled with goosebumps. The ripping of foil brought her attention to the fact that he was too.

A moment later, firm hands grasped her buttocks, and he hoisted her on him.

The sudden breach perched her on the brink of pain, and she gasped. As she adjusted, he reclaimed her mouth, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of her hips, and then he began thrusting: hard and fast, the textured ridges of the wall grazing her bare skin.

Don't stop, she thought, afraid his gentle nature would win out over his raw emotions. She wanted this. Needed it. She tilted her pelvis up and wrapped tighter around him, whimpering for more.

He gave her what she asked for, moving harder.

A bead of sweat trickled down her groin and skin slapped against clammy skin. Loud. Perhaps too loud.

The thought that someone would walk around the building and discover them entered her mind. The worry popped on a moan as his hips ground deeper. Her insides melted with the friction until they glowed.

She grabbed his sweater and pulled him further to her. His breath hitched as somehow, he intensified his pace, the slaps becoming a whir. She bit his shoulder, and he growled, crushing her with his fingers. There would be more bruises. She didn't care. There was only one goal, and it was too bloody close for anything else to matter.

A strangled sound erupted from his mouth a second before she shattered, and he slumped against the wall, holding her until she started to slide down his sweaty body.

Thomas' grip loosened as he gently lowered her boneless form to the ground, catching her as she faltered.

"Hells, I'm so sorry ... I shou —"

She silenced him with a kiss.

"Enough apologies, hey." She bent down to retrieve her clothing, grateful for the chance to look away as he sorted himself out.

He fumbled to tie up the used latex. "You're battered and bruised enough."

She grinned up at him, worrying her lip. "But this was so much fun. Plus, I'm tough as nails and full of drugs, remember?" she said, wiggling her track pants up her legs.

"Fun, you say."

"And you, sir, are built like a brick shit house. Can't believe I ever thought of you as lanky."

Thomas choked and started to cough.

"Nasty habit, smoking."

A shaking hand pressed a plaid handkerchief into her hand, and she took it gratefully. As she cleaned herself, he squatted down beside her and pulled up his slacks. "You don't like that I smoke?"

"What's to like?" she lied. The death sticks tasted of him.

Thomas cleared his throat. "Well, then." He reached into the pocket he kept his cigarettes in, seemed to think the better of it, and stopped himself.

"First step?"

"Something like that."

The clang of a metal pot sounded, and they turned to see the beam of a torch wavering from around the building.

"Ah, the wake-up patrol," Thomas said.

Nadia sighed her disappointment. "So much for more sleep."

A minute before, her aches and fatigue had enhanced the sensations racing through her. Now, they came down to overwhelm her. A coil of nausea circled in the base of her sternum, a telltale sign that she needed sleep, food and caffeine. More drugs first, she decided.

Thomas' hand snaked around her waist, and he pulled her against him. "Oh well, I can think of worse ways to start the day. Or worse days, for that matter."

It was still full dark when they set out after a very early breakfast. The only hints of the coming day were the dimming of the stars and the occasional twitter of a waking bird — until dozens of hiking boots thumped on the stones of the Inca Trail and broke the pre-dawn quietude.

Their group moved between two others, winding their way to the last checkpoint by torchlight.

A fizz of excitement permeated the air. Behind her, Thomas walked at a steady trot — despite once again carrying Jan's substantially larger pack, as well as his own. The woman in question plodded loudly behind him, her footfalls interspersed by the clacking of her walking sticks.

"Not much longer now," said Sharon, still farther back.

Nadia detected strain in her words. Not surprising, she thought, she'd not want to miss out on the view of Machu Picchu at sunrise because Jan had a heart attack.

Jan's reply was a low grumble.

"I don't suppose a strapping young man like yourself is in the business of helping a damsel in distress?" Sharon called out to Thomas.

He grunted as he hiked up his load. "I thought I already was."

A tinkle of laughter hovered above their footsteps. "Well, I hope you have saved enough strength to carry a buxom blonde —"

"Oh, shut up, Sharon!" sputtered Jan.

"That's the spirit! Keep it up, and you can save Thomas his back!"

Nadia swallowed a giggle and kept on trudging.

They were the second troop to arrive at the way-station and plonked onto the available benches to wait.

Jan offered to take her bag from Thomas. "Go on. I'll manage."

Thomas politely declined, he would give it back to her when they reached Intipunku, the Sun Gate. Instead, he winked and kissed her hand in a move straight out of Georgian England.

The woman's face turned beet red, and she turned to Nadia. "Honey, if I were twenty years younger, I swear I'd give you a run for your money." A quiver ran along Jan's body before she made for Sharon, now wedged between Trent and Rob and massaging Trent's shoulders.

Nadia snorted. "Who needs Mr Darcy when there are Thomas Waterhouse's in this world?"

"I was just being polite."

"Polite? I think you just made her decade, Thomas! You know, I came across this brilliant meme once. How'd it go? That's right: 'Somewhere, someone, sometimes masturbates thinking of you'. I think you just ensured it applies to you."

He gawked at her with a look of such absolute mortification that she almost fell off the bench, her body convulsing with laughter.

"What's up with the missus, Thomas?" asked Trent, head lolled back under the dull light of a flickering lantern.

"Oh, er, Nadia was telling me about the effect I have on her."

She elbowed him in the guts. "You're so full of shit, you know."

"I'm so full of you." His eyes held hers, and a finger stroked down her face.

She wanted to keep teasing him, but the intensity of his eyes and the now-familiar gesture seized the words from her mouth. Her heart danced.

I'll miss this, she thought, her stomach sinking until he leaned into her.

"I can't seem to get enough of you," he said, the stretching of his cheek against her own telling her he grinned broadly. "Perhaps it was written about me."

She punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"You know it's true. Come." He guided her head to rest on his knee, and she curled up beside him to sleep a while.

When the checkpoint opened, Thomas woke Nadia from her doze, and she shuffled sleepily past the station. The dawn came stealthily. About them, shades of grey bloomed into colour as they raced to beat the sun. The ascent to Intipunku was up steep and irregular stairs that cut through a green corridor of moss-covered granite, ferns, and low-hanging branches. Exhausted, she followed Thomas upward, motivated by his strong back.

Rays of bright-white peaked above the summit and the sky had turned a light shade of blue as they approached their destination. Thomas reached down and pulled her up the final steps and through a stone door of blazing light.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~So one of my friends came across this, and I found it so funny I just needed to find a way to slot it into the story. Random I know, but that's me ~ 

Chapter image by Thanh Tran on Unsplash.