by Rosie Miller
Going back further, she saw pictures of her lying back on Alistair’s huge leather topped desk. Her blouse was unbuttoned and the cups of her bra pulled down, showing her dusky pink areola and her tight hard nipples. In another her legs were open and she was touching herself. She remembered being so worried that someone else would come in and see her—but also really turned on by the risk. There were more—close-ups—of her fingering herself with her fingers inside her pussy.
“Anything good?”
She dropped the camera – cursing—desperately hoping he hadn’t caught sight of the pictures. How did Jackson move so quietly? How had he crept up on her like that?
She fumbled for the camera and clicked it off as she picked it up. “No—nothing much—just nature and stuff.” At least the combination of sunburn and heatstroke would cover her blushes.
She looked at him. But he seemed the same as usual. Surely he’d be smiling or looking embarrassed if he’d seen the images. She relaxed and tucked away her camera. He can’t have seen anything.
Then Ellie and Colin reappeared, and it was time to leave for the day. They drove back to the hunting lodge. There were two bunk rooms—a big lounge with an open fire and four sofas—and a rudimentary kitchen and bathroom. It was rough, but it looked great to Justine. Anywhere that wasn’t outside and that had somewhere soft to sit and lie down was heaven. Justine would be bunking down with Ellie among the dust and cobwebs, while Jackson and Colin shared the other room.
Ellie and Colin took over the cooking, talking herbs and spices.
Justine took a shower, and then lay on one of the big sofas drinking a cold beer. If she didn’t have to do it all again tomorrow, she might even feel happy.
Jackson was prowling around outside. He couldn’t seem to settle at all. But eventually he came in to join them. Colin and Ellie had cooked up something with far too many vegetables in it, but she was hungry and it was warm and filling. And she was grateful to them for cooking while she had lounged around, exhausted.
She looked at Ellie. Hours in the wilderness, then cooking a meal hadn’t seemed to dim her energy at all. She hadn’t even showered and yet she looked as fresh faced and cheerful as she had at the airport this morning.
Justine slipped into the kitchen and surreptitiously exchanged her empty bottle for full one, hoping Colin wouldn’t notice and give her a lecture on the evils of alcohol.
Jackson came into the kitchen behind her and opened the fridge. He ignored the beer and grabbed at a tray of steak.
She grinned. Colin and Ellie would go into meltdown if they saw him cooking that.
“I’m still starving,” he said and ripped off a piece of raw meat and put it in his mouth.
She watched him in amazement. “You really are hungry. But shouldn’t you cook it first?”
He ripped another piece off and started chewing it. He shook his head. “Tastes better like this.”
Justine nodded, not believing him. At least he’d be easy to cook for. No fancy Beef Wellington for him—she could just serve it red raw and dripping in blood.
She began to wash the dishes.
He wiped the blood from his chin and took a few more mouthfuls. Then he stood next to her and started drying the plates.
They worked in silence for a while.
“What you said earlier… you’re right. I need to—”
Colin came in. “Great day, great evening guys. But I need to turn in. Catch some zees.”
Justine nodded. It had been so nice having Ellie there. She was like a filter on a water pipe—catching all of Colin’s crap so what was left came out relatively clean. Justine pondered on how she could get Ellie moved into their office permanently.
“Me too,” said Jackson. “I’ll just finish clearing up. Then when Justine and Ellie are settled, I’ll do a final security check.”
“You’re obsessed with security,” Justine spoke before she remembered that Colin didn’t—and couldn’t—know about Jackson’s overnight visit to her apartment. “You keep talking about it,” she added lamely.
He nodded. “Can’t be too careful. In fact, I’ll start now.”
Half an hour later she was lying in the uncomfortable narrow bed, with Ellie nearby. Ellie looked like an angel and pronounced herself delighted with the accommodation. She snuggled down and seemed to fall straight asleep, her hair fanning beautifully across the pillow.
Justine tossed and turned. She tried to get comfortable, but the lumps in the mattress were conspiring against her.
It was strange sleeping out in the countryside. She was so used to the never-ending hum of the city. It was quiet here—but not quiet enough. Every so often there would a strange noise that jangled her nerves and made her wide awake again. There were birds screeching, possums squealing and even wolves howling in the distance.
She shivered under the thin blankets and tried not to think about how far they were from civilization.
Jackson had been in and checked the window was locked and secure. She’d watched him, thinking what a waste it was that they would be spending the night apart.
She remembered the feel of his body on hers this afternoon. If Colin and Ellie hadn’t been there, how far would she and Jackson have gone? Would he have kept touching her breasts? Put his hands under her clothes? She might have said a half-hearted ‘no,’ but he’d have kept on going. He might hold her down and undress her. He’d touch her all over and kiss her everywhere.
She pictured Jackson sucking on her nipples, his hands moving down her belly and caressing her pussy. She couldn’t stop him. He was too strong, too determined. She slipped her own hand between her legs and massaged the flesh. In her mind it was Jackson’s lean strong fingers that explored between the folds, finding her sensitive spot.
Barely moving—conscious of Ellie sleeping just a few feet away—Justine began to stroke herself. It felt good. She glided her fingers over and around her clitoris. If only it was Jackson’s tongue. She opened her legs wider, imagining his head lodged firmly between her thighs. His hands would hold her legs open and his mouth would be busy on her pussy.
She kept touching herself, faster now, thinking of Jackson’s lips nibbling at her and his tongue lashing at her little love bud. She rubbed her tender clit, trying to keep her breathing soft and even as she felt the pleasure grow. Then she heard a noise.
She froze. Her fingers lay still against her throbbing pussy. She stared into the darkness.
What was it? Who was there? Had someone come into her room? Did they know what she had been doing? She waited—not moving—listening. But she didn’t hear anything else. It must be animals outside again.
Justine relaxed and began to touch herself. She had been so close, and she needed to come. But she couldn’t get back into the moment.
Now she needed to use the bathroom too. She tried to ignore it, but knew she’d never get to sleep.
After a while, she gave in and made herself get out of bed and pad softly across the room. The bathroom was right through the other side of the lounge area.
She shivered. Her short silky nighty wasn’t designed for these conditions.
She pulled open the bedroom door, not wanting to wake Ellie,
and crept out into the big lounge. It was full of shadows and her eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness. She felt her way across, the furniture just darker shapes in the blackness.
Something grabbed her. An arm was around her throat, pulling her down. A hand clamped over her mouth before she could scream. She was on her back on the sofa with someone holding her down.
She struggled desperately—trying to make a noise—trying to breathe. Her heart was pounding and she put all her strength into throwing off the attacker. But she was pinned by his weight and held tight. Then a familiar voice whispered in her ear. “Justine. It’s me.”
It was Jackson of course. He’s been keeping watch, protecting her. But he’d terrified her.
“Don’t scream,” he whispered and slowly took his hand
away from her mouth.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, outraged.
His mouth was close to her ear and she could feel the warmth of his breath. “Sorry. I grabbed you before I realized. I thought it was someone …else.”
He was still holding her, his body pressing her down. He had both her wrists in one hand—pulled above her head. He had her pinned against the couch. He felt big and heavy and powerful on top of her.
“Guard duty again?” she asked. Her silky nighty had ridden up in the struggle and she could feel the roughness of his denim jeans pressing against the soft bare skin of her thighs. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice, his scent were all so familiar. She wasn’t scared anymore.
“Yes. I didn’t know it was you.”
“But now you know it is,” she murmured, shifting so she was more comfortable, pressing her hips into his in the process. Now he knew—why didn’t he release her? She still couldn’t move and he held her wrists tightly above her head. She was getting turned on again. The feel of his body and of being trapped by him was making her hot.
“Yes. Now I know it’s you.” His mouth was so close to her ear that she could feel his lips as he whispered. Then he pressed his mouth against her ear.
She shivered. He kissed her again, his lips warm against her ear. Then he nibbled on the exposed skin all the way from her ear down to her shoulder.
She moaned softly and pressed her body harder into his. She could feel his hard rod now—the length of it against her hip and she shifted against it—wanting him.
Her silky shift was almost round her waist. He used his free hand to touch her, stroking her shoulder. Then his hand moved lower. He found her breast and his hand closed over it.
Her nipple tightened under his touch, and knew he’d be able to feel it too through the thin silk. His lips sought out her mouth and he kissed her. His lips were hard against hers, and his tongue forced its way into her mouth. His hand was squeezing her breast firmly.
He pulled down the strap of her night dress and she felt his rough warm skin grazing over her smooth skin. He gripped her nipple and held it, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. He was rougher than she expected—pressing it firmly—making her gasp. The feeling raced down to between her legs, making her love button tingle.
He lifted his mouth from hers to whisper in her ear again. “You want this, don’t you? You want me?”
“Yes,” she murmured back. She had wanted him for so long.
His tongue was deep inside her mouth again, pushing into her, and she responded. She pulled her hands free from his grip and touched him, loving the feel of his tight hard muscles. She stroked his back, his shoulders and ran her hands over his butt, pulling him in harder against her. She felt the thick rope of a scar running down his arm and wondered how he had got it.
He pulled the other strap of her nightdress down then and held a breast in each hand. He kissed one hard peak then the other, sucking each one, making her moan softly again.
Then one of his hands slid lower, caressing the mound of her pussy. She was wet and ready to be touched. She was still turned on from her own touch and she needed this—she needed him.
His hand was forceful, pushing urgently in between her thighs. She shifted so she could open her legs. He stroked her, dipping his fingers into the wetness. Then he stroked her clit, running the length of his long lean fingers over it. The roughness of his skin felt good and she arched her body towards him, wanting him.
She moaned softly and he covered her mouth with his, kissing her.
His fingers kept moving—strong and purposeful—and she knew she was going to come soon. Her tongue twined with his and her body arched up towards his hand. His rough fingers were touching her urgently, hard and fast—each movement forcing her closer to climaxing.
She felt an explosion of pleasure so strong that her body was writhing and twisting of its own accord. His mouth was firmly on hers so she couldn’t scream as the orgasm rocked through her. He kept touching her until she sank away from his hand, exhausted with the power of her climax.
He moved away from her for a second. She couldn’t see what he was doing in the dark, but she heard a rustle, and guessed he was getting a condom. A second later he was lying on her again, his weight pressing her into the sofa. He maneuvered himself until he was between her legs and she felt his hardness nudging at her entrance.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he murmured. He wrapped his arms firmly around her and pushed his rigid cock inside her.
He held her still for a moment—his arms were holding her hard against him. It felt good. This was what she had wanted from the first moment she had seen him.
His hips began to move, slowly at first then harder and faster until he was slamming into her. His mouth was over hers again and he was holding her arms pinned to her sides so all she could do was take the pounding. But she wanted it—she wanted him. He moved even more vigorously, and she was rammed back into the couch while he fucked her hard.
He plunged in again—then held still for a second—his cock buried deep inside her. His whole body stiffened, and she knew he was going to come. He held her so tightly she wondered if she’d be able to breath and thrust two—three—four more times into her.
He lay heavily on top of her. He took his mouth from hers and rested his head on her chest. They lay together for an age. She never wanted to move.
Then a door opened, and she heard Colin’s characteristic sniff.
She froze, hearing him bumble across the room bumping into things and cursing quietly to himself. He found the bathroom door and went in. An edge of light shone around it. She knew she couldn’t be caught here. She couldn’t bear the thought of Colin seeing her like this—or how he’d react.
She pushed the heavy weight from her. “I’d better go,” she whispered.
He held her face in his hands for second and kissed her, his tongue pushing in deep and hard again. Then he let her get up.
Her eyes more used to the darkness, she hurried back to the girls’ bedroom. She slid into bed and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Eight
At breakfast, she was the last one to join the table.
She caught Jackson’s eye and they smiled at each other.
“How was your night?” he asked.
“Good, very good.”
“You sleep well?” Colin butted in, his mouth half-full of muesli.
“Not so well. But I’m not complaining.” She flashed a smile at Jackson.
Jackson was working his way through a huge bowl of cereal. Then he made toast too, spending ages in the kitchen. Justine wondered if he was helping himself to a few slices of raw bacon and perhaps a few raw eggs too—or whether he was just avoiding her.
“You’re hungry,” she commented as Jackson came back in with huge pile of toast.
“It was a busy night. I worked up quite an appetite,” he replied, holding her gaze.
“Me too,” she smiled.
“Anyway, it’s for you too.” He tipped a couple of slices onto her plate and put the rest in the middle. Justine saw Colin dart a quick look at her—obviously wondering why Jackson would make her breakfast and not Ellie’s or Colin’s.
“Just helping the late riser catch up,” Jackson explained casually. “I don’t want us to be late out of here. We’ve got a lot more ground to cover and then you guys have a plane to catch.”
“Yes, Justine,” said Colin pointedly. “We don’t want to be late.”
She wanted to kick him under the table but decided to rise above his jibes. And he was probably right. If anyone was going to take ages to get ready—it would be her.
Half an hour later, the torture began. More hiking—more heat—more nature.
Her shoulder was still sore from where Jackson had grabbed hold of her the night before. It looked almost like teeth marks, but it must have been where his fingertips had dug into her skin. But she didn’t mind. It had been worth it. She smiled at the memory,
knowing she wanted to do it again, and soon.
This time Ellie was getting excited about something else. “Look! Wolf copra!” She scooped something up and placed it in one of her plastic jars and labeled it carefully. Then she squatted down to examine it. “This is unusual. It’s not like any droppings I’ve seen before.” She looked up at Jackson her eyes shining.
Justine leaned in for a look and then realized what it was—animal turds. Only Ellie could get excited about that.
“You’ve certainly got a big wolf population around here—and it may be something unusual too.”
Jackson shook his head. “No—just regular old wolves. I should know. I’ve seen plenty of them.”
“I don’t think so. This looks very unusual. I should be able to get a DNA test run on it to compare it with other samples.”
“No.” Jackson’s face had that hard stern look. “No. No talk of wolves—regular or otherwise. The locals don’t like it. They don’t want this place known for its wolves.”
Ellie was puzzled by his lack of excitement. “But it could be just what we’re looking for. A valley like this one could easily have a unique species. A damp fertile area—cut off from other habitats for centuries—surrounded by dry scrub for miles in every direction. It’s the perfect niche habitat. I’m surprised it’s never been studied properly. ”
“No. We’d rather lose the land than that.”
“Seriously?” Ellie looked so earnest and so confused.
“Look—we make the little money we have from hunting parties. If there were wolves here—especially rare ones—we wouldn’t be able to hunt or do what we like. We’d lose all that income. So it’s not worth it. Especially if we have a bunch of scientists hanging around all the time. You stick to your plants and flowers and fungus. And don’t mention wolves.”
