Then he moved. Or rather, it moved. His cock began twitching inside her, massaging her ready and wet depths while his body remained stone still.
In almost no time at all hot tears began falling from Tara’s eyes as she realized her body had more in store for her and it conspired with him to show her she didn’t know what she was capable of at all. The small motions made her cum again, calling out a pleasure within her that she didn’t know it contained. The man over her stiffened, then froze. Tara felt his hot jets of cum splash through her passage. Her tears, from a source she could not name, flowed even more freely as the man shared himself with her completely.
After long minutes, Nick dropped to one side and lay on his back on the hard stone surface while she collapsed, a limp rag, face down on the covering of his clothes.
Her eyes remained wide open in shock at the amount of pleasure the man had released into her body. She heard him next to her sighing heavily and was gratified to know that he was evidently as blown away by what happened as she was.
The late morning had turned to noon and even at the high elevation the sun went from pleasant, to warm, and finally, as it baked the stones around them, hot.
“We need to get covering on you…on both of us. Sunburns are a real danger at higher altitudes...”
“Because less atmosphere to filter harmful UV rays,” Tara managed to mumble out, realizing with some shock she’d been drooling. Even in her state she was gratified to hear the man’s appreciative grunt at her knowledge.
“You….you…” she struggled to get up but found her muscles were still little better than jelly. “What the hell did you do to me?”
With a grunt of effort she manage to sit up and saw he was up on one haunch, looking out over the cliff. It seemed to Tara that any pose the man took was breathtakingly, classically, beautiful.
“Same as you did to me; so, once again, we’re even. We need to get moving, Tara. It’s not acceptable that you miss the rescue team.”
The statement went a long way to pulling Tara out of her endorphin haze. It had been the most powerful sexual experience of her life, and, if she knew anything at all about men, a doozy for Nick as well, but clearly that’s all it was to him. She smiled, impressed and bitter that the mountain man had a perfect reason to never see her again. He had clearly thought things out well in advance.
“So, if we’re even, can I borrow this?” She dragged herself to her feet, his sleeveless shirt clenched in her hand.
Nick twisted around, his expression already a million miles away, then nodded almost absently. Tara was momentarily mesmerized with his rich hazel eyes and a bit disappointed with herself that she had been so enamored with his physique she hadn’t even noticed them before.
She made herself break contact and looked down at the flannel shirt. It hung down low enough to cover the essentials and with a little work she managed to make the impromptu socks that Nick had made out of its sleeves fit into her hiking boots.
Well-fucked and clothed in something approaching decent for the first time in 14 hours, Tara began to feel as if she could face the world. She told herself as soon as she was on board the rescue helicopter she would view the short adventure as a dream from another life.
“So,” she said perturbed by the wild man's apparent disinterest in getting up. “Shall we get going so you can get rid of me?”
The man came back to himself slowly and dressed with equal distracted languidity. Tara wondered if, having been out in the wilderness for so long, that it had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman and perhaps the encounter had shaken him even more than it had her.
But once he had his jeans on and boots laced, the shaggy-headed man seemed to recover himself and retreat into whatever place he had been in his mind most of the time Tara had known him.
CHAPTER 10
Tara stood in the doorway of the waystation. It was far more than she had expected, but she was still let down. The one room cabin was musty with disuse and held only two cots and an old wood burning stove. There was a sink but no running water, and a cupboard.
“Check in the cupboards,” Nick said, standing at the doorway.
“I’m not hungry. I just want to go home,” the woman said, annoyed at how he hung back, standing on the porch looking around.
“Look,” he repeated, and stepped off the porch.
Tara crossed the room and opened the cabinets. On the top shelf there were jars of peanut butter, powered milk, and a few bottles of water. Her jaw dropped open when she saw what was on the shelf below that.
With a yelp of joy Tara pulled out the two sets of folded stacks of clothes. Jeans. Shirts. Socks.. She was in heaven. She shook the jeans out and held them against her body, then did the same with the shirts.
She dressed quickly and, feeling very frontier smart, used a length of twine that held a cord of firewood together to fashion herself enough of a belt to keep the jeans, clearly made for a man, up.
Once she was done it occurred to her that Nick was not back. Then the nagging question entered her mind that if it had been a rescue helicopter he’d heard before, why were there no signs any rangers had been to the to cabin and if they had been there, where had they gone?
It made no sense. She made her way to the door, stood for just a moment looking out trying to locate her mountain man, then bent down to tie her boots.
That was when the first shot rang out.
It bit into the wood of the door where she’d been standing. If it hadn't been for the new but ill-fitting socks, she would have been pierced through the heart.
Then there were more shots, the door suffered more chewing and a front window shattered. Tara dropped to the floor and rolled away from the open door.
She heard yelling and then the breaking and crunching of tree branches. She barely had a moment to look about the cabin for some kind of weapon before three men burst in--one with a semi-automatic, the other two with large, sleek handguns.
“Podign je!”
Tara scrambled for a bed thinking first just to get away from the men, then thinking the shots must have alerted Nick or the rescue squad and they would all be there in minutes.
“Podigne je,”the last of the three men barked in a bizarre language. He was a tall, broad- shouldered man with a long narrow face and an amazing mane of well-quaffed hair.
The first man who had charged through the door--large wearing a black priest-like frock coat and pants that did nothing to hide his powerful form--stalked up to Tara, grabbed her by the arms and, with a savage pull, brought her to her feet.
Her captor said something else in the same gibberish language and the tall man nodded.
“You’re right, of course. Best to get off federal land as quickly and quietly as possible“. He said something else in the odd language and the brutish foreign priest let Tara go.
“You are not here alone,” the well-manicured stranger said. “A man accompanied you. We will wait for him.” He spoke again and the man with the semi-automatic, also tall but gaunt with an acne scarred face, went back outside and began a circle of the cabin.
Nice-hair man, obviously the leader of the trio, stepped up to her and appraised her with amused, cruel eyes.
“Things rarely go to plan, so we learn to be flexible. Unfortunately, I have to take care of this bit of mess myself. I assure you it is advantageous for both of us if you simply tell me where your companion disappeared to and when he plans to be back.”
“Y-you were watching us?”
“As I said, we learn to be flexible. “ His eyes cut to the burly priest. The man grabbed Tara savagely by the shoulders and began shaking her so violently she thought her neck would snap.
“Odgovori mu, kujo!” the brutish priest growled.
The tall man moved forward and put a hand on his subordinate’s shoulder. He spoke again and Tara was released.
“He’s known for his effectiveness and dedication; not his patience,” the tall man said. “ I feel certain our
point is made. Where is your gentleman friend?”
Tara would have loved to drop her hands to her knees to catch her breath but knew even trying to break free would have been wasted effort and only piss her captor off more. She caught her breath and finally managed to shake her head.
Then she let out a cry as the shaking began again. Fortunetly, it lasted only a brief moment before the tall man put his hand out again.
“You are not saying you will not tell us. You are saying you don’t know. Am I correct?”
Practically sobbing, Tara nodded her head. It was true, she didn’t, but she was too rattled to explain. She shook her head even more violently.
The tall man nodded and Tara was released. She bent over, rested her hands on her knees and was finally able to recover. She heard the man with the semi-automatic finish rounding the cabin and step back up onto the porch. He and their leader had a brief conversation. Tara was shocked to realize her only impulse was to yell out to warn Nick to run if, in fact, he was still nearby.
Knowing it was pointless, however, she continued breathing. Eventually, she was able to stand. She made herself look at the nicely-coiffed man, doing her best to ignore the threatening presence of the man beside her.
“I don’t know where he went. I-I needed a little privacy. He must have figured that out on his own and went for a walk. I don’t really know him. I met him last night by the lake; he saved my life.”
The leader studied her carefully for a moment. Tara had never met a man who was so comfortable staring into another person’s eyes.
“I believe you. And, in fact, what you said was very helpful. If he went to the trouble of saving your life then I can assume he is quite attached to you even IF you did just meet. He’s very likely to come back and, at the very least, check on you. We will wait for him.” The man looked around.
“Cozy,” he said, and without another word went to the nearest cot, dusted off the wool spread and, like royalty, sat his ass down on it. He nodded to the other cot. Tara got the message and rather than be touched again, quickly sat across from him.
“We’ll give it an hour, then we have to get back to the helicopter.” The tall man nodded and the brute joined his companion out on the porch.
“Relax,” the tall man said, fishing in his jacket pocket for a nail clipper. “You need do nothing more; we wait. We’ll take care of our business and be on our way.” He examined his nails carefully, then began filing them. “It’s of no matter, but to put you at ease, my name is Mr. Hamilton.”
CHAPTER 11
The hour was up. There was no sign of Nick. Tara was glad on one level. If he had come for her the three thugs would have certainly killed him with extreme prejudice. On another level she felt a sense of emptiness at his apparent desertion. The truth was, though, that once he had delivered her to the waystation, he had no reason to stay. Given his mysterious secrecy, it made sense he would just leave.
She held to the thought that she was happy that he was safe.
Mr. Hamilton, who, amazingly, had been able to attend to his personal grooming for almost the entire hour, uncrossed his legs elegantly and stood with fluid ease. He straightened his perfectly creased pants, tugged his coat, shot his shirt cuffs and looked around the room again.
“Unfortunate,” he said. “It would have been better to deal with things here, but it is what it is.”
The large, priestly man came in, a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his mouth. He glanced at his boss who nodded. Before she could react Tara was yanked off the bed and tossed out onto the porch. Her two captors followed.
All four stood on the porch while the gaunt priest scanned the nearby woods with his gun. Their leader produced a small walkie-talkie and had a short conversation in the harsh foreign language.
“It’s a 15-minute trek down to the landing pad,” he told Tara as he hooked the device onto his belt and pulled his handgun from its shoulder holster. “As I said, I had hoped your friend would come to fetch you, but we have to be flexible.”
He put his hand out and the the rough priest handed him a cigarette. “Vezati je,” he told the big man.
With a slight nod, the man produced two heavy-duty zip ties. Tara knew what was coming and had to force herself not to resist. The man was rough but efficient. In just a few seconds Tara’s hands were bound together in front.
Mr. Hamilton swept his hand towards a trail leading away from the cabin in a mockery of good manners.
“Why do you still need me?” Tara asked. “Nick’s not coming for me.”
His smile made Tara shiver.
“You make a valid point. However, this ‘Nick’ of yours… you said he is good at camping and all that. Even saved your life. This sounds like a capable man. A capable man would, if he were going to try anything, not come after us while we were in the cabin. We have the tactical advantage. A capable man would attack while we are en route to the helicopter. Hence, we also need you…helpless.”
Mr. Hamilton flattened his lapels and straightened his cuffs again.
Tara felt her heart grow cold. For one thing she was convinced Nick was already long gone, but in case he wasn’t, she was terrified he would try something stupid.
“Off we go then.” Hamilton nodded to his two thugs and Tara was shoved down the steps. Caught off balance she fell, landing roughly on her hands.
“Please note, if I’d had your hands tied in back you would have fallen face first into the dirt. I am showing you a kindness. Please don’t take advantage of it,” Hamilton said pointedly.
He led the way, followed by Tara, the brutish priest, and finally the the tall one with the semi-automatic taking up the rear.
The path they took was wide and well-marked, but steep. Tara knew if her hands had been tied behind her she would have fallen several times. As it was she struggled on the sheer rocky slopes and was exhausted within only a few minutes.
That was when the first stone flew out of nowhere, slicing the air between her and the pugnacious priest.
The squat man fell back cursing, and, with the speed born of practice, snapped his handgun from beneath his frock.
Hamilton stopped and turned in surprise.
The man with the semi-automatic was already pivoting in a circle. His gun, designed for mass killing, swung back and forth along the treeline that hemmed them in.
“Where?” Hamilton half-yelled the question. The squat man pointed at a spot in the treeline and then indicated how close the stone came to hitting him.
Another stone arced through the air, this time towards the front of the line but missing Hamilton by a wide margin.
The man with the semi-automatic muttered something.
“Yes, seems like there might be more than one of them,” Hamilton said, trying to restore calm to his voice. “That second throw was very bad and came from a different direction.” Then Hamilton caught himself, spoke in the foreign language and holstered his pistol. The three men circled in tight around Tara like she was precious cargo, not a prisoner.
“I don’t think stones match guns,” the well-dressed sadist yelled out after a long moment of complete stillness and silence. “It might be better to discuss things.”
There was no reply. The forest itself held its breath.
“Obviously, if we wanted to hurt her, we would have by now,” Hamilton tried again.
More silence. Tara, crouched low among the circle of men, felt an odd chill.
It was more warning than any of her captors got.
The Heart's Dangerous Trek Page 4
