Charlotte’s POV
Alexander mounted the camel first.
He spoke softly to the enormous creature, his tone calm and reassuring.
He patted the saddle in front of him and offered me his hand.
“Let’s pray he’s in a good mood today. Come on, Charlotte.”
The camel let out a huff and shifted its weight.
Alexander didn’t even blink.
I placed my foot in the stirrup, took his hand, and hauled myself up.
The saddle was much higher than it looked.
I wobbled, losing my balance for a second.
His grip on my hand tightened, steadying me until I could swing my leg over and settle in front of him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice low.
“Everything alright back there?” Mom called out.
She was already seated on her camel ahead of us.
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Alexander replied, adjusting his position behind me.
Mom smiled and gave her reins a gentle tug.
“Alright then. Forward! Ya! Ya!”
Her camel let out a deep groan and began a slow, plodding walk.
Our own camel fell into step right behind.
The swaying motion was bizarre at first.
It felt like being on a slow, lurching boat.
My hands gripped the saddle horn tightly.
I focused on the camel’s ears, twitching and swaying rhythmically in front of me.
Then, the movement began to change.
With each step the camel took, its body rolled in a distinct, undulating rhythm.
My backside kept sliding backward, inch by inch, closer to Alexander.
I tried to shift forward, to maintain some space between us.
But after just a few more steps, I slid right back again, my body bumping against his.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered to myself.
That’s when his arms came around me from behind.
He pulled me firmly against his chest, my back flush with his warmth.
“Stop squirming,” he whispered near my ear. “You’ll unsettle him. We don’t want a disgruntled camel.”
“I can’t help it,” I whispered back. “I keep sliding. This feels like riding a wobbly sofa.”
“It does,” he agreed, his voice a soft rumble. “Just relax. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Hearing him say that made my cheeks flush instantly.
I’m eighteen years old.
Being held like this, cradled in his arms, was embarrassingly childish.
Yet, I couldn’t deny the comfort of it.
His solid warmth didn’t just feel safe.
It felt… inevitable.
“Better now?” he asked.
“Yes.” I hated how small and truthful my voice sounded.
Mom glanced back over her shoulder, her scarf trailing in the breeze.
“The map indicates the first marker for Mirage Springs is about two kilometers ahead. Just stay close behind me. Don’t lag.”
“Two kilometers?” I groaned. “On this beast?”
Alexander dipped his head, his cheek lightly brushing against my hair.
“You’ll survive,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
For a while, that was all.
The camels trudged onward, their heavy feet making dull thuds in the sand.
Soon, Alexander and Mom fell into their usual debate.
She insisted on following the map’s route precisely.
He kept gesturing toward shadows and gullies in the dunes, arguing that an alternative path offered better shelter from the wind.
“The map is reliable,” Mom stated firmly. “Why would it lead us astray?”
“It’s not about it being wrong,” Alexander countered. “It’s about practicality. Those ridges can provide cover. If the wind strengthens, we won’t be eating a mouthful of sand with every breath.”
“For heaven’s sake, Alexander,” she sighed. “You are not the appointed ruler of the Mojave.”
“Someone ought to be,” he retorted smoothly. “And I’m clearly the best candidate.”
I listened to their familiar back-and-forth.
Mom was stubborn, through and through.
She rarely accepted advice, even when it was sound.
A quiet, traitorous thought crept into my mind.
How did a woman like her ever end up with a man like him?
Even as her daughter, I sometimes felt she was… unworthy of him.
Fortunately, their argument faded after a few minutes.
Mom, it seemed, had won this round.
The rhythmic swaying was making me drowsy.
My eyelids grew heavy.
A yawn escaped me.
Just then, the camel hit a rough patch of ground.
The jolt was sudden.
And in that instant, I felt a distinct, firm pressure against my lower back.
I went completely still.
“Charlotte, you alright? The terrain’s getting a bit uneven here,” Alexander said, his tone explanatory.
I nodded mutely, trying to convince myself it was just an accident, a result of the jostling.
But the memory of that sensation replayed in my mind, over and over.
After the third mental replay, a wicked, daring idea slipped in.
This rocky stretch would last a while longer.
Why not… indulge a little?
He’d never know.
The thought alone sent a flush of heat through me.
I shifted my hips back slightly, pretending the camel’s stumble had pushed me.
Then, I deliberately pressed myself back against him.
A sharp, thrilling jolt shot through me.
My core clenched, growing damp at the sheer audacity of it.
It felt dangerously good.
I began a slow, subtle grind against the solid wall of his body.
All the while, I kept my eyes fixed on Mom’s back.
It was wrong, so wrong, to do this with her right there.
But I knew her focus was entirely on the path ahead.
She wouldn’t notice a thing.
I was so absorbed in the secret thrill that I almost missed it.
His hand.
It slid from my waist, up along the outside of my thigh.
Then, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of my skirt.
My heart slammed against my ribs, skipping a beat entirely.
He knew.
He absolutely knew what I was doing.
My body locked up, paralyzed by a mix of shock and fear.
Oh, God.
This was a disaster.
What would he think of me now?
Would he be disgusted?
Would he punish me, like he used to when I was little and misbehaved?
Or worse, would he tell Mom?
I could never look either of them in the eye again.
“Dad, I—” I started, my voice a shaky whisper, scrambling for the excuse I’d prepared about the rough ride.
The words died in my throat.
“Don’t stop, sweetheart,” his voice was a soft, warm breath against my ear. “I like it.”