Love Saved (4 page)

W
ater splashed
over Oren's face, and he sat up in surprise, gasping for breath.

Am I drowning? I remember an ocean! How did I get into the ocean?

"It's ok, calm down. I've been trying to cool you off for a while. Here, take some water," a kind voice said by his ear.

He looked up and found Kirk handing him the water bottle, noticeably heavier than the last time he saw it. He suddenly became aware of how terrible his mouth tasted, as if he had licked hot, dusty asphalt. He grabbed the water and took small sips. It tasted so good he considered for a moment the possibility that he had indeed died.

"God, I needed that," he croaked, hesitantly pulling the bottle away from his mouth. He knew he'd get sick if he drank too much, but the temptation was very strong. "Where are we?"

"Paradise."

Oren looked around, his eyes wide with shock. Before them stood a large pool of water, dark blue and sweet smelling. Trees and shrubs surrounded the area, making it shady and cool. The harsh rays of the sun weren't able to find their way through the foliage here, and Oren felt his skin cooling for the first time in days.

"So I did die."

"Nope, we managed to make it to the oasis you found. Your hallucinations and ramblings may have saved both of us."

"Did you carry me all the way here?"

Kirk shrugged and changed the topic swiftly. "I'm glad you are awake and getting hydrated. I think we should get into the pool to clean off, though. It'll help keep your temperature down, too."

"And you are sure we aren't hallucinating?" Oren asked seriously, looking up at Kirk with his sunburned face. "We are really by a refreshing pool of water?"

"Only one way to find out. We have to jump in."

"Do we have time?" Oren looked through the trees, and could barely see the dark brown cloud of dust descending upon their little piece of heaven. "I vaguely remember you warning me of a dust apocalypse coming our way, and things aren't looking so great out there."

"It'll hit tonight. The storm isn't moving that quickly. I think we have time to clean up and find a safe hideout before things get too crazy," Kirk answered.

The pilot then unabashedly started peeling off his dirty shirt that still stunk of smoke from the crash. Next he slipped off his pants and boots, leaving him in only black boxers that clung to every detail of his anatomy. Kirk's legs were strong and thin, and they lead up to narrow hips, a muscled stomach, and a lean, defined chest. Oren raked his eyes up and down the lean body, taking in every line and curve.

Holy crap, he is beautiful
, Oren thought.

Kirk ran to the water's edge, putting a foot into the water tentatively. He turned back around and gave a thumbs up to Oren, his white smile flashing widely. "Cool and perfect!" he called before wading in.

Oren slipped his shirt off, breathing a sigh of relief to finally be free of the clinging material. He now fully understood why Kirk preferred loose flowing layers to anything that stuck to your body in the incredible heat. As he peeled off the tight cloth, he felt as if his skin was coming off with it. His skin and several inches of pure grit.

He next kicked off his shoes and began pulling on his pants zipper. He looked up then and found Kirk standing up to his knees in the pool's water, grinning at him. The pilot raised his eyebrows slightly as if in a challenge. Oren met his gaze and slid off his ripped and dirty pants without breaking eye contact.

The sexual tension was thick in the air, and Oren’s pulse was racing off the charts. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had such an intense connection with another man.

"The water is great," Kirk said moving backwards slowly, breaking the spell. "Come join me."

Oren didn't need another invitation. He sloshed into the water, sighing as the coolness washed over him. "Holy shit, this is great."

But while Kirk had seemingly teased him when they got undressed, he now appeared content to stay some yards away. Kirk dunked his head quickly, washing all of the dust off. As he emerged again, Oren watched the water roll off his muscled body. The water certainly was nice, but he had to admit the show was even better.

Grumbling slightly in disappointment, Oren also began to dedicate himself to getting washed up. He scrubbed his hands along his arms, aghast at the grit his fingernails were scraping off. "I'm disgusting," he said out loud, grimacing.

Kirk looked like he was about to respond, but instead, his mouth hung open and he eyes locked behind Oren. A chill went up Oren's spine as he saw fear flicker across Kirk's face.

The last thing Oren wanted to do was turn around. They were finally having a moment of happiness after what was quite easily the worst week of his life. And now there was something behind him that was no doubt going to make his heart stutter.

"Yep, things keep getting better," he whispered, willing his body to turn slowly.

Behind him stood a group of five men. They all wore loose white robes that stopped just inches above the ground and wrapped around their head and neck were dark green scarves. Several had knives strapped to their sides, and at least one seemed to be holding a gun.

From the back of the group stepped an older man with a well-trimmed white beard. His face was gaunt, and his left eye was covered by an eye-patch. His expression was calm, and he looked over Kirk and Oren with an air of authority.

After taking his time to inspect them, he shouted out a phase in a language Oren didn't understand. However, Kirk quickly responded, his voice differential and polite. The newcomers rapidly whispered together, and Oren held his breath.

Then the old man broke into a wide smile and began to speak rapidly. The tension in the air melted away, and the group of men relaxed their stances behind their leader.

Well, this is off to a better start than I would have guessed
, Oren thought to himself.
Maybe something will finally go our way.

"
H
ello
," Kirk called to the new arrivals. "We have been lost in the desert for several days and are seeking help."

It had been a long time since he spoke the language of the nomads, but he hoped they would understand his pleas for assistance. His father had drilled him on it as a child, saying it was a necessary skill to survive in the desert. Kirk had always thought his father was speaking in hyperbole, but apparently there was more truth in the sentiment than his father let on.

The men looked carefully at Kirk and Oren, then murmured quietly among themselves. Finally, the old man grinned and threw out his arms in welcome. "We are sorry to hear of your misfortune. Please, join us for dinner."

Kirk bowed back, thanking the man profusely. Then he turned to Oren and smiled. "They have invited us to join them."

"Just like that?" Oren looked at the group of men, their belts heavy with swords, and raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Hospitality is a very important virtue among the nomads. They take in those who are lost, feed them, cure them, and help them find their way. It has been this way for centuries, and many people would rather break an arm than break the code."

"And they don't expect anything in return?"

"No, that'd be considered rude." Kirk looked from Oren to their pitiful pile of belongings, which at this point consisted of an empty med kit, dirty clothing, and a blanket. "And even if they did want payment, I'm not sure what we could offer besides our humor and company."

Oren laughed and shrugged. "Fair enough. This makes as much sense as anything else in my life. Let's have some dinner because I'm starving."

The men showed up just in time to prevent me from going too far with a client
, Kirk thought as they got out of the water.
My body was calling for me to kiss him, and I was only barely able to keep away from the temptation. The last thing I need is an emotional entanglement with a man I almost killed in a plane crash. A man who has hired me to see to his safety, no less!

The men led the way to the other side of the oasis where their camels had been stealthily hidden behind some bushes. No doubt the men had heard Kirk and Oren's chatter from a mile away and had arrived prepared to defend their goods. However, now that the pair had proved to be completely harmless, the travelers were nothing but kind and hospitable. Kirk and Oren soon found themselves seated in a circle with the men, sharing hot tea while goat cooked over the fire. The smell was heavenly, especially to Kirk, who had not eaten anything since the granola bars ran out the day before.

He chatted easily with the group, explaining things to Oren as he went. The men were traders and in the process of moving camels to the market to be sold. Their herd boasted ten full-grown males and several smaller females.

"The camels are very valuable, right?" Oren asked as he shoveled yet another piece of flatbread into his mouth.

"Very. This will feed their families for quite some time."

"Have you seen the clouds forming?" the old man broke in, gesturing to the horizon behind them, which had steadily darkened as they ate. "The storm is almost upon us."

"Yes, we saw it earlier this afternoon. I'm afraid we have no way to hide from it. Our only hope was to reach this oasis and perhaps build a makeshift shelter here."

The men murmured and shook their heads in disapproval.

"You can not hide from the sandstorms by hiding under a blanket or behind a tree," grunted one of the men, who appeared to be only slightly less ancient and shriveled than the leader. "It is an act of God and must be respected as such."

"I definitely respect the raw power," Kirk said soothingly. "But I'd also like to survive it."

"We have an extra tent you can use. I packed it thinking my grandson would come, but the boy has little interest in the traditional skills. He'd rather stay behind with his mother and relax in the camp." The leader spat loudly at the end of his speech, clearly displeased.

"Is everything ok?" Oren broke in, worry creasing his forehead.

"Better than ok. They’ve agreed to lend us one of their tents so we can ride out the storm." Kirk then turned to the travelers again. "And this tent can withstand the winds?"

"Oh yes. Some white men came through last year with lots of cameras. Said they were taking pictures of animals, the sunset, and other natural things. They wanted a guide, and in exchange, gave us some equipment. It is very good; it came all the way from America."

"We should set up the tents now. The light will be gone soon," said the youngest man, pointing to the palm trees above. The leaves were beginning to flail noticeably.

Even Oren understood. "He says we have to get ready, right? It looks like it'll be starting soon."

"Yes. Tonight you'll see the full power of the desert."

"I've seen enough desert to last the rest of my life. It doesn't need to keep proving itself to me," Oren grumbled before standing up to help clean up the teacups.

"The desert does whatever it wants," Kirk responded with a shrug. "We can only hold on and hope for the best."

T
he noise
from the wind was unearthly. It was as if another dimension had opened up and the souls of the damned were screeching around their tent, looking for victims to devour. Kirk shivered and huddled deeper under the blanket. He had been in storms before, but he didn't think the sound was something he could ever get used to.

He looked over at Oren, who was staring at the tent's ceiling and moving his lips silently. "Are you praying?" Kirk called over the wind.

Oren turned and smiled grimly. "Is there really much else left to do when the world ends?"

Kirk shrugged, conceding the point. "I suppose not."

"Do you want to know something funny?" Oren yelled out, a faint smile on his lips.

"Sure."

"This is one of my company's tents! I travel all the way around the world, almost die a hundred times, and yet here I am, right back in my comfort zone."

"Does your company make good tents?"

"The best, according to our advertisements."

Kirk snorted and reached out to place a hand comfortingly on Oren's shoulder. "It'll be over soon enough. We should be safe where we are nestled. The nomads have experienced many storms and know how to prepare. And I'm sure your tent is wonderful."

Oren looked at Kirk's hand for a second, then looked back up at Kirk. Their eyes met and a spark of electricity shot between them. Neither said another word, letting the emptiness hang between them and fill with all the desire that had been building. It was undeniable that something very strong was pulling them together, no matter how Kirk had tried to fight it.

I shouldn’t do this. He is my employer and I barely know him
, the rational part of his brain screamed out, trying to make itself heard over the wind and his libido.
I need a clear head to do my job and keep him safe.

I know enough about him to find him the most infuriating and attractive man I’ve ever met. I can’t pull back and live with regret,
the romantic part of his brain yelled even louder
. I’ve almost died once already, can I really say no to a night of happiness?

Kirk gave in to his heart. He ran the hand that was resting on Oren's shoulder up slowly. He traced a path along Oren's neck, across his jaw, and then traced gentle circles around his cheek. The touches were unhurried and deliberate as Kirk enjoyed exploring every inch of skin.

In response, Oren moved closer, wrapping his arm around Kirk's waist to draw them together. They were now only inches apart, and the heat radiating between them was as powerful as the sun had been during the day.

Kirk leaned in, brushing his lips softly against Oren's. They relented easily, opening and allowing him to deepen the kiss. Connecting with Oren was perfection, and he felt himself falling into a well he had no hope of ever escaping. Every inch of his skin hummed with happiness and adoration for the man he was holding.

"Wait," he said at last, pulling back with great difficulty. They were so close now that they could hear each other over the noise without any shouting.

Oren looked at him with glazed eyes and mouth hanging open in surprise. "What?"

"My name isn't Kirk. It's Khaled. I just thought you should know who I really am."

"Does Khaled want to kiss me, too?"

Kirk kissed Oren again in response, letting himself get lost in the other man's lips. He felt Oren sigh against him, and they both melted together as the roar of the wind continued outside.