I remember when I was a kid, shopping with my mother at the grocery store for the few things she couldn’t pick up at her favorite markets, the magazines and news rags would always catch my eye at the checkout line. Weekly World News with its ridiculous headlines about ‘Bat Boy’ or aliens would make me roll my eyes and ignite my imagination at the same time. I always knew that the supposed scoops were bullshit. Everyone did. Yet, it stayed in business. People bought it.
Now, you don’t have to go to your grocery store to find phony news. It’s on every Facebook page. It’s mixed in with your actual news, making it impossible to distinguish from the rest of the craziness in this world.
My eyes come back into focus and I let my death grip on the edge of the window relax. Let it go, I remind myself as I draw a deep breath into my lungs. Right now, the only thing I need to worry about is the young woman on my toboggan who is going to freeze to death if I don’t help her. The rest of that shit, hell, the rest of the world, doesn’t matter right now.
I try the window on the other side of the door and it has some give in it. With a lot of pushing and maneuvering, I manage to slide it open and crawl inside. I don’t bother to look around, there will be time to take the grand tour later. From the size of this place, I’m guessing it will take all of two seconds to get acquainted. Instead, I unbolt the door, jump down the porch stairs and lift the strange woman over my shoulder.
Kicking the door shut behind me, I lay her on the dirty floor and pull my gloves off with my teeth, spitting them to the side. I lift her hand and check her fingers, they’re waxy and white. Not a good sign.
I place my hand under her nose and feel her soft breath barely blow over my skin.
Opening her large fur coat, I scowl at her insane choice of clothes. The complex crystal coating of ice over her creamy breasts and bikini top tell me that the swimwear has to go. I pull the string tied up around the back of her neck and reach behind her back, freeing her from the other loose knot. I clutch the cloth in my hand and it crackles as the ice breaks under my grip.
I can’t for the life of me figure out why anyone would leave dressed like this. She must have been in danger. I would guess she fled for her life, choosing a possible death in the woods over a certain death that she faced. There’s no other logical explanation.
I force myself to look away from her perky tits. Two little mountains begging to be claimed by the exploring lips of a man. Instead, I focus on her blue lips. Full, pouty and smeared with some kind of shimmering gloss, but still blue.
Two fingers on the side of her neck tell me her pulse is as weak as her breathing. She’s hypothermic, there’s no doubt in my mind. The boozy smell escaping her pores tells me of her drinking. However, I have no way of knowing if she’s passed out from the alcohol or from the bitter cold. I’m no doctor. All I can do is try to warm her up the best way I know how.
Standing up, I strip off my outer layers, shaking off my parka and lying it over the unconscious girl. I kick my boots off, sending them across the dark room and peel down my pants, stiff with ice next. Soon, my clothes are a pile on the floor and I’m shivering while standing naked over a beautiful yet strange woman.
This isn’t how I wanted this trip to go. She might be stunning, but she can’t be too smart running off in the state she did. Besides, I’ve always preferred my companions to be conscious and enthusiastic about my nudity. Not in medical need of my warm skin for their survival.
Lying down on her open coat next to her, I make quick work of removing her bottoms, tossing them on the towering pile of fabric next to me. I dart my eyes away from her barely-covered pussy. The dark hair between her legs hardly a shadow covering her mound.
Instead, I pull her into me, lying her head on my chest and grab the edge of my parka, pulling it over us like a blanket. Once we’re both fully covered, I wrap my arms around her tucking her freezing hands into my armpits and pressing the ice blocks she has for feet between my thighs.
I need to warm her slowly. If you thaw a person with hypothermia too quickly it can stop their heart. This is the best way I know how to do that. Skin-to-skin contact will bring up her body temperature at a safe rate.
Once she warms up, I’ll make a fire. Hopefully she wakes up and doesn’t have any permanent damage from this. I look over her shoulder and see there’s wood piled next to the crumbling fireplace. Thankfully I won’t have to try to gather some out in the snow.
I pull her in tight, trying to give her the warmth I haven’t shared with any woman in years. Trying to give her the warmth she desperately needs to stay alive.
In the meantime, I focus on her breathing. On her heart beating next to mine. I try not to think about how her hair smells like fresh strawberries in the summer sun. I push it from my mind. All I care about is getting her warm, getting her conscious, and getting her on her way.
Nothing else.
6
Ashley
I can hear the crackle of the fire as the flames fan heat on my face. I don’t need to open my eyes to know that Ben and I must have passed out beside the fireplace in our amazing chalet. The unforgiving wood floor and stiff muscles I have from sleeping on it, confirm my thoughts.
I don’t hear Stacey or Kate stumbling around yet, trying to get their latte fix for the morning. It must still be early.
Kate! Her and Ben! Didn’t I see them fucking like a couple of drunk rabbits? The memory is blurry, the details hard to remember. I thought I saw them. That I took off into the woods. It was cold and dark and I got lost.
I can feel the heat of Ben’s body behind me, his arm casually draped over my belly. It must have been a dream. A nightmare.
I’m glad that’s all it was. I’m not ready to get up and face the day yet. I shimmy my hips backward and press my butt back against my fiancé. Lacing my fingers in with his, I’m surprised by how much larger they feel. How much rougher they are. Ben doesn’t have callouses on his hands. And his morning wood definitely doesn’t feel like the huge erection pressed snugly between my ass cheeks.
I snap my eyes open and my heartbeat quickens. This is not the resort. I blink, waiting for the grungy room to disappear and the pristine chalet we’ve been staying in, to materialize. Shit. Where am I? And who am I lying on the floor with?
“Oh my god!” I jump to my feet and wobble on my shaky legs as I look down at the unfamiliar man that was just holding me tenderly against him. “Who the fuck are you?” my voice warbles as I yell. My breaths are so shallow that I can’t fill my lungs properly. I feel like I’m drowning.
“Woah, just hold up a minute,” the man, and I do mean man, stands up with his hands in the air. I try not to stare at his body. Especially not how his red boxer briefs cling to the thick ridge of his cock, where it outlines the belled curve of the head, leaving nothing to the imagination.
My nipples begin to peak with the arousal I’m ashamed to admit is engulfing my good senses. I force myself to drag my eyes back up his sturdy frame. Up over his cut abs, higher still to his broad chest and sculpted shoulders. I quickly scan his thick beard and olive complexion before I meet his deep, brown eyes. I know it’s only taken a second for me to soak him in, maybe less, but it feels like a second that time forgot.
“Who the fuck are you?” I want to sound like a lion, but my voice squeaks out more like a mouse. I wrap my arms around me and realize for the first time that I’m completely nude. “Oh no,” I look down in horror. “What did you do to me?” Tears spring to my eyes as I desperately try to remember anything that would make this ok.
I can’t.
“What did I do to you?” He snarls, crimson washing over his cheeks. “What are you accusing me of? I saved your fucking life, that’s what I did.” His shoulders seem to grow impossibly wide as he throws them back, glaring down his nose at me. He towers over me and could easily do anything he wanted to do to me. I bite my lip and try not to look into his eyes which are flashing with anger. I need to get out of here. I need to get away from him.
“What kind of man do you think I am?” He yells at me and tears fall straight from my eyes to the floor. I keep my head hung as I try to hide the fact that I’m crying.
“I don’t know!” My voice cracks and I can’t help but sob. “I don’t know who you are at all. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I’m naked.” I throw my hands up over my face and my body shakes as I break down.
His sigh is heavy as he walks over to me. “Listen, you’re right,” he pulls me into his arms. “I get that you’re scared. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, ok? Don’t cry, please.” It’s strangely comforting to be held by him. A man I’ve never met before. He runs his thick hand over my hair and holds me tight.
“I know this looks fucked up, ok? I know you don’t know me. You have no reason to trust me, I get that. But, you can,” his voice is soothing, “I’m Sawyer.” I can hear his voice rumble in his chest with my ear pressed against him. “You have my word, I never laid a finger on you. I found you passed out in the woods and brought you here so you wouldn’t die of exposure. All you were wearing was a wet bikini under your coat, so I had to strip you down and lie next to you to get your body heat back up.” He explains calmly. Even though I have no memory of any of this, I believe him.
He wraps his hands around my shoulders and takes a step back, looking down at me. I can’t see anger in his smoldering eyes anymore. Now, I see something worse: pity.
“I know you’re confused and scared. I mean, you wouldn’t have run off in the state you were in unless you were in danger, right?” He doesn’t wait for me to piece my night together for him. He takes a deep breath and locks me to the floor with his earnest gaze. “I don’t know what kind of men you’re used to dealing with, but I’m not like that. I’ve never hurt a woman and I never will. You got my word on that.”
I consume his scent in my lungs, breathing him in hungrily. He smells like wood smoke and cedar. There’s no doubt in my mind that this man works with his hands for a living. They’re so rough and strong. I involuntarily clench my thighs together tight. My body is begging for this guy to be less of a gentleman and just have his way with me. Heat flushes through me from my cheeks to my curling toes as I imagine him effortlessly fucking me against the wall, or bent over a table, or pinned under his defined muscles on top of my fur coat.
“I need to get out of here. I’ve got to get back to the resort,” I murmur unconvincingly, not taking a single step.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he laughs.
I struggle to breathe. Not because I’m afraid, but because I’ve never been more turned on in my life. The idea of some strange man keeping me in his cabin shouldn’t make my pussy so wet. It shouldn’t, but it does.
“Why’s that?” I frown at him.
“Take a look outside, sweetheart,” he points to the sliver of light coming in through the ice-covered window.
Suddenly my nakedness is making me feel exposed. Not vulnerable or afraid but like my body’s reaction to this guy is too obvious. Betraying me. I grab my coat from the floor and give it a shake before covering myself up with it. Barefoot, I pad across the creaky floorboards and peer out into the whitewashed world outside.
It looks like we’re living inside a snow globe and an overzealous toddler is shaking the shit out it. Streaks of ice pellets and snow cut across the sky like a meteor shower of awful weather.
“It’s supposed to be like this for days. The way I see it, with no way of calling for help, we’re going to have to stay put. Unless you feel like putting your bathing suit back on and walking out to your death again,” he smirks at me. I twist my head away from him, focusing back out the window. “We can’t be that far from the resort,” I try to convince myself.
“Are you talking about Telluride? Cause that’s the only resort I’ve heard of around here.”
“Yeah,” I get excited and turn back to face him, “that’s the one! Is it far from here?” Maybe I could wait for a break in the storm and head back there.
“It’s a little over a two-hour walk from here,” my hopes come crashing back down and my chin trembles as I realize my fate is all but sealed.
“Wait! I have my phone,” I plunge my hand into my pocket and pull out my cell. “I can call for help,” I smile at the black screen that I’ve come to love. I’ll love it even more once it gets me out of this dirty shack and back to my luxurious chalet. I press on the button and check for a signal, but I have no bars. None. Not even that little stumpy one that gives you false hope of being able to log on.
Fuck.
I walk around with my cell overhead, twisting my arms around the room, my eyes focused completely on those empty bars.
“Watch it!” Sawyer lunges toward me, pulling me back. I look past my screen and see that I’ve almost trampled into the open fireplace.
“What are you doing? Is that how you ended up in the woods in a bikini? Were you chasing a phone signal?” His eyebrows gather together as he frowns down at me.
“No,” I answer quietly. “I’ll have you know that I walked in on my fiancé and my stepsister, I mean, my foster sister,” I correct myself and shake my head, “screwing each other’s brains out.
His lips are pressed into a flat line as he shakes his head. “So, let me get this straight. You were up at Telluride, you caught your man cheating with your sister and you ran into the woods in a wet bathing suit?”
“My foster sister,” I grit my teeth.
“Who gives a fuck! Are you crazy? You could’ve died!” He throws his hands up in the air in disbelief.
“Well, I was drunk and not thinking clearly. But, it doesn’t matter. Everything is ruined now anyway,” I fight the burning in my throat that’s warning me of more tears to come.
“He’s just a man. Either forgive him or move on. It’s not a big deal. You’re not the first girl this has happened to.” Sawyer shakes his head at me and goes over to a huge pile of clothes on the floor and starts dressing.
“You don’t understand.”
“No? Well, it sounds pretty cut and dry to me,” he tugs a waffle shirt over his head.
“Well, it’s not.”
“How’s that,” he tilts his head at me and throws a red plaid button up shirt over the other one.
“Our wedding was going to be a huge deal. You don’t have any idea how badly my fans are going to take this. I mean, I’ve never been more popular on Instagram since he proposed. The photo I took of this ring,” I lift my hand and my diamond glitters brightly, “got more likes than I’ve ever gotten on any other picture. Ever,” I stress.
“Oh, well goll-ee,” he holds a hand to the side of his face like a teen fangirl and tilts his head, mocking me. “Why didn’t you tell me I was in the presence of someone oh-so famous. You are so right! Now you running off into the freezing night in next to nothing totally makes sense,” he rolls his eyes. “Just think of the likes you might lose. The likes,” he speaks in a high voice that I think is supposed to sound like mine.
It doesn’t.
Sawyer pulls on his pants and zips them up, hiding the huge cock I’ve been trying to ignore since we got up. It’s better that he keeps that thing out of sight. Though it’s far from being out of mind.
“Oh, please,” I jut my chin out, “let me guess you’re so much better than me, right? You’re some kind of hipster who wants to be a lumberjack. You’re out here pretending that you love to chop down trees at your piece of shit cabin when you know you take just as many pictures as I do and put them up. The only difference is you probably pretend to act all innocent like you don’t care when people tell you just how cool you are for being so anti-technology.” I snarl.
“This isn’t my cabin. I broke in here to save the life of an ungrateful brat that thinks she’s hot shit because her internet friends told her so. I don’t have a computer. I don’t have a phone. And, I might be a stereotype, but I’m no fucking hipster. I live in the backwoods. Alone. And now I’m starting to remember why I loved it so m
uch.”
He stomps across the floor and tosses another plaid shirt and flannel pants at me. “Here, put these on.”
“What?” I look down at the drab, oversized clothes. “Why?”
Sawyer glares at me. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you have no clothes. You know what? Wear them, wear that,” he points at my coat, “or maybe go back to when I liked you a lot better, when your mouth was shut and your body was naked. I don’t care.” He tugs on his boots and grabs his winter coat.
“No, I’ll wear them. Wait, where are you going?”
“To try to get something to eat. Stay here. I don’t need you scaring off the food. If you do decide to take off in this, know that I won’t go out there trying to track you down. No matter how many phony likes it would get,” he shoves his arms in his coat and zips it up to his neck. He doesn’t look back at me before yanking open the cabin door. A blast of bone-chilling wind swirls around me and I shiver under my coat. Sawyer lowers his head and crunches out into the snow, slamming the door behind him.
Well, I look around the dirty cabin in wonder, now what?
7
Ashley
I watch the roaring fire that I’ve managed to build with a growing sense of satisfaction. The orange, curling flames lick the insides of the chimney and cascade a beautiful golden glow onto my arms.
Ugh. I crinkle my nose in disgust as I notice the soot streaked over the sides of my hands and up my arms. I sweep my eyes over the simple cabin searching for something to wash up with. I hate being dirty.
I walk across the room to the kitchenette and take a look around. I’ve already explored the tiny bedroom and closet behind doors number one and two earlier. This place doesn’t show any signs of being used in years. I was shocked to find out that there is no bathroom in this place. There’s no plumbing at all that I can see. Instead, I’ve been subjected to the indignity of using an outhouse. I was beginning to wrap my brain around the Pinterest-type rustic vibe of this place, before I learned that. There’s nothing rustic about a pit toilet. It’s practically inhumane.
Virgin for the Woodsman Page 15
