Mountain Man Snatch

by Quinn Peachwood

  “Can’t do that I’m afraid.” Den chuckles. “This is a bona fide kidnapping.” He pronounces the word ‘Fi-dee ‘and cracks up with amusement all over again.

  He seems to be enjoying himself way too much. I hope he realizes this is my woman. If she speaks, I’m the one to tell her what’s what.

  “Please, I’m not who you think I am. No one will pay money to get me back.” She moans.

  “Well ain’t that a shame? No family gonna come looking for you then?”

  Denver flashes me a triumphant grin. This was even easier than we imagined.

  “There must be someone gonna miss you.” He probes.

  “No one with any money to pay you off.”

  “You hear that Grayn? No one with money will come for her.”

  “Yeah I heard.” I snap. Irritated that he used my name.

  We drive off in silence. Our supply run has been more than successful as far as I’m concerned. The only issue is going to be weaning the woman into our lifestyle and asserting the fact that she belongs to me and me alone. Denver had better not think she’s fair game.

  We continue without speaking for over an hour as usual. Den and I got used to interminable long drives through the desert, without the need for idle chatter.

  Finally we travel through the woods that skirt the valley then up a steep winding track to an elevation of almost seven thousand feet. The air is lighter and cleaner with the tang of pine. I feel I can breathe again.

  We pull up in front of the cabin and get out to unload the supplies we went into town for - Denver takes the refilled gas bottle into the kitchen, while I unload the few grocery essentials. And most especially the items we need for conducting our business of distilling liquor.

  He comes back from the outhouse and I see him making a beeline for the back door of the truck to get the girl. But I’m closer and faster and beat him to it. I reach in and grab her under the arms to pull her out.

  Right away she starts writhing around, trying to wriggle out of my clutch and again my cock starts to unfurl.

  She’s just too perfect. Her body is amazing in the skintight leggings and tee shirt that accentuates the voluptuous curve of her breasts.

  I could gaze at her all day long and take stock of my new toy. Looking at it, turning it over and over like a boy with a new truck. But I want to see her face up close, see her eyes meet mine and that sense of intense connection again.

  “Reckon we oughta leave that sack over her head, just to keep her tranquil.” My buddy commands, as I reach to pull it off.

  “No. Please.” She whines, her rigid muscles suddenly going limp in my arms. “I’ll be good.”

  Ignoring Denver’s idea regarding my bride, I yank the sack back off her head. Her eyes don’t come floating up to find mine this time though. She’s disoriented from the journey, face down in the darkness.

  Her eyes are swimming in confusion and her hair is stuck to her face where she sweated inside the rough fabric. I instantly regret how I’ve mistreated her in our short relationship.

  I reach my hand out to her cheek to remove a strand of dark auburn hair. The girl pulls away from me, an instinctive reaction. As if I’d ever harm her.

  Her eyes refocus with the light and go flashing around, taking in the deeply wooded surroundings, the shack hidden in the trees from any fool that might come wandering this far off the beaten track.

  She almost seems to be looking for something, or someone. Then her gaze alights on Denver standing on the porch now, the truck, and finally come to rest on me.

  With the most heated, blazing, gaze of loathing I’ve ever encountered in a female.

  “You.” She murmurs.

  She tears herself out of my grasp and gives me a steely glare that tells me this may not be as easy as we thought.

  “How dare you, how fucking dare you, snatch me off the street?” She snarls.

  I reach out a hand to her shoulder, meaning to calm her, let her know it’s going to be okay. But she shakes me off violently.

  “Get your hands off me.” She screeches. “And take me back to High Fork right now.”

  Her breathing is short and labored, her chest goes up and down rapidly with a bounce of flesh that again sends my cock rising to the challenge. Each new arousal is more painful that the last as my desire is repressed and denied.

  Denver gets to laughing raucously. “I told you she was a feisty one.” He announces. “Your bride ain’t gonna lie down quietly.”

  The look of horror that passes across the girl’s features is truly daunting. Den was right about one thing, she isn’t going to be an easy one.

  But that’s probably what attracted me to her in the first place. Her provocative nature is much more interesting than some docile little servant girl type. God knows there’s not much up here to keep me amused, apart from Denver’s coarse humor, so I need a woman that will give me some stimulation.

  “Bride?” She repeats, fixing me with the kind of disbelief you offer a lunatic. “Are you insane? Are you freaking kidding me right now?”

  The girl turns away and starts walking, stomping really - past the truck and down the track, the only pathway back to civilization. Denver lets out a hoarse chortle again and my patience with the situation gives out.

  “Watch out for them bears and rattlers on your way down.” He shouts before dissolving into loud laughter again.

  The girl halts in her tracks. She’s in no way equipped for the twenty mile hike through the back country. Not in the furry sandal things she has on her feet that are worthless for anything other than expeditions to the Main Street coffee shop.

  But after the briefest pause, she continues on with a resolution in her step that fires me up with a more ravenous hunger to possess her. I love her spirit. The need to claim her and tame her is intoxicating.

  With a couple of strides I catch up to her easily. I grab her arm and haul her back to the house. She fights me every step of the way, even landing a sharp kick on my shin that makes me cry out in surprise and sets the old man off yet again.

  “She needs a good slap. That’s how I manage my women.” He advises.

  I ignore him because I know how well he handles women - not. But with the girl thrashing and writhing against my hold, I put an end to it by picking her up and tossing her easily over my shoulder.

  She’s kicking her legs and pummeling her little fists into my back muscles, but I barely feel her resistance. What I do feel is the movement of her thighs against my shoulder and pecs as the waggles her legs.

  I clamp my bicep down over them to stop her kicking, only because her squirming is driving me insane. The blood is rushing so fast through my veins I think I might buckle.

  Her ass is stuck up in the air beside my ear, her pussy pressed against my collar bone and I’m sure I can feel the heat of her emanating into my skin.

  The urge to peel back those leggings and claim her is irresistible.

  I carry her into the house and hear Denver move to follow behind.

  “I’ll need a moment alone with my bride.” I tell him.

  “That’s right, son, You break her in for us.” He says. He grabs his bottle of hooch and heads back outside to settle into a chair.

  I don’t like his use of the word ‘us’ because this girl is mine and mine only. But I’ll deal with that later, right now I need to settle her in to her new life and start to make her accept me.

  I thought we had an instant connection but that seems to have gone up in smoke for the time being, no doubt due to the unseemly manner in which I made my intentions clear.

  Snatching a woman off the street and bagging her might not endear her to me right away but she’ll come around in the end.

  I set her down by the couch but she doesn’t sit. After looking at it with some distaste, I guess it is a little grubby and well-used, she turns back to face me with those fired-up eyes. Her mouth is set in a firm line of resistance but that doesn’t make it any less desirable.

  The ne
ed to claim those lips with mine is unbearable.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” I say. “I only want to make you happy.”

  She lets out a croak of ironic laughter then goes right back to staring me down, silent, revolted. Clearly she needs more persuasion.

  “You’ll see it’s real nice living out here, once you get used to the solitude.” I say. “We don’t have much in the way of modern convenience. But that means we’ll have more time to spend together.”

  She glances sharply around the one-room living area with a curl of her gorgeous full lips before returning to stare me down. Looking at it from her standpoint, I guess it looks a little squalid.

  “What are you some kind of survivalist? Doomsday prepper?” she asks, her voice tremulous but still brave. This girl has some balls on her.

  “I’m just a man that believes in taking care of himself and his family without any outside assistance from some assholes in suits that put themselves in charge for the purpose of enslaving us. You think that’s weird?”

  “I guess that depends on the man, Grayn.” She replies with an emphasis on my name that she must have heard Denver use along the way.

  And behind the steel-braced stare, I see that flare of fascination in her eyes.

  Just for a second, but it’s definitely there.

  3

  LouLou

  Breathe.

  I have to keep reminding myself. Inhale and long exhale. Maintain equilibrium and don’t let these two nutjob preppers freak me out.

  This place is a complete falling-down dumpshack, held together with not much more than moonshine fumes. There’s a pioneer-era stove in the corner and a tin basin tub piled high with dishes that have been there since the same century I’d say.

  That’s about the extent of the kitchen and if I’m not mistaken, there isn’t a faucet that goes with that sink. I wonder how they ever wash them. Maybe they just remove a dirty one from the tub and spit on it to give it a clean. Ugh.

  I guess it’ll be my job to take care of that now - if I’m really here to be their ‘bride’. Does that mean domestic servant or something…more? Aside from the whole kidnapping thing, I also can’t stand a hairy man. Double ugh.

  I feel totally out of control of my own body, shaking inside now that they’ve stated their intentions - not to kidnap me for ransom but to make me their ‘bride’.

  You hear about human trafficking but you never think it’s going to happen to you on a gentrified street in a friendly mountain town.

  No one knows where I am. I dropped my phone so even if Shareen has a brainstorm regarding our abrupt disconnection and decides to track me down, no one will be able to trace me. My phone is probably already on some resale site.

  No, I am really up shit creek as they say. So it’s vital that I keep my wits about me and wait for an opportunity.

  This nutjob in front of me, the son I suppose, because why else would he be living with that smelly old creepfest out on the porch drinking hooch.

  That’s what it is if I’m any judge of the massive plastic jugs lined up on the makeshift counter which looks like an old door held up by two brick stacks.

  Jeez, how is a girl supposed to survive in a dump like this?

  “What’s your name?” the young guy, Grayn, asks with an almost shy smile that belies his massive frame and hairy face.

  These two obviously don’t possess the same genetic make-up, nor something as commercial as a razor blade.

  I stare back at him. Denying him what he wants.

  “Answer me, woman.”

  I continue to stare at him, not giving in to him at all. Get used to it sucker because I’m not going to be broken in or whatever it was the old one said. No one is breaking this girl.

  “I suggest you start to get used to doing what I tell you to.” He says darkly.

  “That right? If Jared Splinky couldn’t manage to break me in, a pair of fucking hillbilly outcasts won’t either.”

  A flicker of rage passes across his features, then, a huge grin makes that beard waggle on his chin along with a rumble of laughter.

  “Did you actually just call me a hillbilly?”

  He seems to find this unjustifiably hysterical. His laughter reaches down to his corded thick forearms so they flex and tauten, the ink covering them seems to come alive.

  “Actually that’s what you are in case you didn’t realize. A dumb hillbilly who couldn’t hack real life.”

  In two steps he’s in front of me, his body so close I feel all kinds of energetic heat radiating into my pores. The air seems to thicken with steam so that I find it tough to inhale.

  The breath seems to stall halfway into my throat, perhaps because my heart is beating wildly and filling my chest. But I have no intention of showing him fear.

  I stare back at him, tipping my chin up until my head goes all the way back on its stem. He’s so much taller than I am. And about three times wider.

  With his hands on his hips, his chest bulges out until our torsos are almost touching. Damn, his closeness sets my nipples peaking with heat. They protrude out as though trying to graze their sensitive tips over his powerfully carved muscle.

  Does the bastard notice the pellets growing under my tee shirt? I think so because his smirk gets wider.

  “You need to learn how to speak nice to your man.” He husks.

  The desire in his voice reflects an equal amount trapped in his pupils. We’re both breathing as rapidly as though we’d sprinted up the hill we’re stuck on.

  “And you’re the one to teach me I suppose.” I say, my breath hitching in my throat.

  “I suppose I am. Turn around and bend over.”

  I almost burst out laughing but his eyes hold mine captive in a prison of our need.

  My shock slowly morphs into the realization he’s serious.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” I hiss.

  “Them’s fighting words there, Darlin.” He smirks.

  Furious, I turn my back on him to stomp off. Where? There’s not really anywhere to go but I don’t have to think about it too long because Grayn catches my arm and flips my body around so he’s behind me.

  His hands on my waist send shivers jaggering through me. Despite my intention to show total reluctance, I can’t wait to see what happens next.

  I don’t have to wait too long to find out.

  Before I catch my breath, his hands slide down my body and beneath my tee shirt. Then he yanks my leggings down around my thighs and his heavy palm on my back pushes me over the end of the couch.

  My hands fly out to catch myself from falling and the slap comes down on the back of my leg making me squeal in surprise.

  “Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Grayn gruffs out.

  Another spank from his heavy hand, this one landing right on my left cheek.

  I’m so incensed I could scream except, I’m also in shock at how my pussy clenches in a pinch of desire. My clit starts to throb and silently I beg for him to do it again.

  I want his hard palm to spank me over and over until my cheeks are burning with his punishment. I need his heavy hand touching my secret places.

  I’m even more aghast when I detect myself subtly press my palms into the disgusting pleather of the sofa arm to arch my back.

  I hear a chuckle from Grayn behind me, so obviously my move wasn’t as subtle as I imagine.

  “You like that, huh?” he rasps, his tone unmistakably thick with lust.

  “I do not. Get the fuck off me.”

  “What a mouth. Obviously you need more punishment, bad girl.”

  I manage to rustle up some indignation but my throat closes, refusing to emit the lie. Without conscious intention, I arch a little harder from my hips, tilting my ass up higher for him. My breasts feel fuller and warm, the nipples prodding in a frenzy of urgent longing.

  Grayn’s breath comes out hard and heavy and I sense him lifting his arm through the air.

  I clench my buttocks ready for the slap. It comes ri
ght across the entire width of my butt, his hand big enough to cover both cheeks. My clit lights up in a fever of need. Small pulsations cry out for him to slide his fingers deeper into my secret chasm.

  “Your panties are soaked.” he leans in to rasp into my ear.

  “I’m just…”

  “A greedy little girl.” He finishes my sentence.

  More, I want more.

  As though he read my thoughts, Grayn’s thick fingers go to my hips. I tremble slightly with anticipation for what’s next. My ears alert for the sound of his zipper being lowered. He pauses, feeling the tremor go through me, waiting while I regain control of my overwhelming desire.

  I’m annoyed that he gets to relish my need for him but I can’t put it away now that it’s been unleashed.

  It’s all I can do not to beg him to give me more.

  His fingertips press into my flesh and then he’s dragging down my dripping underwear. I tug in a gasp as the cooler air on my exposed clit makes it pulse harder with eagerness. The silky material stalls when it meets the leggings bunched around my thighs and Grayn seems too impatient to yank it all the way down my legs.

  He leaves my clothes halfway down my thighs but it’s more than enough. My wet pussy in tipped up in the air for his perusal. And it’s all I can do to stop myself from shimmying my feet apart so he gets a perfect view.

  He’s managed to humiliate me by unleashing my hunger. I want those rough hands on my skin, all over every part of me. I want him to squeeze the flesh of my full breasts, to pinch my nipples and to soothe the raging hunger inside my pussy.

  He may be a nutjob but he’s the most virile man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  And he seems to adore me - or at least want to claim me at an extreme level. A girl can’t help but enjoy that kind of appreciation, especially from a man as hunky as Grayn.

  Hot damn, I must be delirious. It must be the rehab, the abstinence from all the good things that’s making me think this way.

  Please, please.

  I don’t say it but my body is shouting from every pore.

  He’s making me wait, his hand resting on my hot bare cheek as though gauging the weight of the flesh filling his palm. Warm tingles fly through my body toward his touch and a low moan escapes my lips before I can repress it.