by Emily Bishop
“Now this way.” I pull out and reach around her to turn her over. I set her on her hands and knees on my table. I know I’m tall enough to reach her still. In fact, I can straighten my knees much better this way. The tip of my dick finds her opening, and I slide back into her warm heat. She’s tighter from this angle, and she cries out as I give her ass a little slap.
“I love it like this,” she breathes.
If that isn’t music to my ears, I don’t know what is. I thrust into her, and her hips meet me with equal enthusiasm at every beat. I sink deep into her body, and I can’t stop myself from riding her harder. My thrusts increase in pressure, and Rayne spreads her knees farther apart on the table to take in more.
Oh my fucking god.
I fuck her hard. Her moans and screams drive me forward as I plunge toward new heights.
“Fuck!” I shout.
With that, my load empties into her. I slide out and collapse onto the kitchen chair. I pull Rayne off the table and nestle her onto my lap as we pant together, coming back down to Earth. I notice the strawberry still on the table, and I reach for it.
“Yum,” I say, then with a look at Rayne, I take a bite.
She grins up at me and presses her cheek against my chest. My heart pounds against her face, and I wrap my arms around her a little tighter as we hold each other close. Our naked bodies cool as our heartbeats finally slow down. A ding interrupts our euphoria, and Rayne hops off me to turn off the oven before she slides back into my lap.
Apparently, we’ve lost our appetites for food.
“That was dirty. Literally,” Rayne says.
Her tone is suggestive, and I pull back to glance down at her with a quizzical eyebrow. She nods her chin in the direction of my room.
“Shower?” she suggests.
Holding Rayne against me under a stream of hot water sounds like the greatest idea ever.
“Absolutely,” I agree. “You stink.”
She swats my shoulder, and I chuckle as I lift her into my arms and carry her toward the bathroom door.
“If anyone stinks around here, it’s you,” she counters.
I laugh. “You’re absolutely right. We smell like chocolate and hot sex.”
“Very hot sex,” she agrees and plants a kiss on my cheek.
It’s such an innocent gesture, a kiss on the cheek. Somehow, she’s managed to warm my heart beyond what I thought was its capacity.
Rayne Carr is one hell of a woman.
I carefully set her feet on the bathroom floor, then turn on the nozzle of the shower. Once it’s warm enough, I pull aside the curtain and gesture for her to step inside.
“After you,” I say.
She smirks at me, her perfect ass sauntering past my view as she does so. I can’t help but land a playful slap there, and she giggles.
“Ever the gentleman, aren’t you?” she asks.
I step in beside her and bask in the warm flow of the water along my back. Steam envelops us in no time as I pass her a bottle of soap and stand back to watch her lather herself up.
“You didn’t come a second time,” I observe.
She shrugs as she rubs soap along the length of her arm. “The one was quite good, I assure you.”
“But you deserve two,” I protest.
“What do you suggest?” she counters, her gaze challenging as she meets mine.
“Play with yourself,” I say.
I can tell I’ve thrown her off guard. She blinks, then glances around. “Here?”
I grin and cross my arms. “Did you think I meant anywhere else? We have nice slick soap, a hot room, and I’d like to see you toy with your pussy.”
I can tell it’s something she’s never done before. I keep the challenge in my eyes as I watch her consider. She casts me a wicked grin and sets the soap down.
“Fair enough,” she says.
She steps back and caresses her breasts with her palms. She pinches her nipples, her fingertips sliding along them, slick and soapy. One hand glides down her belly until she reaches her clit, and she circles her finger around it then leans back against the wall and closes her eyes.
“Watch me while you do it,” I say.
Her eyes fly back open, and she holds my gaze as her hand slides down the length of herself and she inserts a finger. It glides in and out as she keeps hold of my gaze, and my sated dick stirs again. Her eyebrows narrow as she gives in to the pleasure of it. When her eyes focus on mine, the intimacy goes to another level.
“Stroke my clit while I fuck myself,” she breathes.
No argument from here. I reach down and rub my thumb along her wet clit as she pumps her finger in and out, riding her hand. Her legs shake as she whimpers, but I don’t let her lose connection with my gaze for an instant.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she moans with each thrust of her finger. I increase my pressure on her clit, and she tosses her head back and closes her eyes as a final orgasm overtakes her. Her face is stunningly beautiful as she comes for me, and I pull her into my arms.
“You are beauty personified,” I breathe into her wet hair.
She has no words for that. I help her finish washing up before I lather and wash myself then turn off the shower. We dress in comfortable pajamas and brush our teeth like an old married couple, then slide into bed together, sated, cozy, and comfortable.
I can’t remember a time when I’ve ever been this happy.
Rayne nestles into my chest as she releases a blissful sigh, and before I know it, she’s breathing deep, lost in sleep. It doesn’t take long for the sandman to come after me, too, and when he does, it’s a peaceful transition from a fantastic reality to a fantastic dream world.
Lucky me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rayne
When I wake up, I’m alone.
I frown. I reach across the bed to confirm that there is no large, comfortable pillow of a man next to me anymore. I crack open an eyelid and realize that it’s still quite dark. The subtle light of day struggles to pour through the window.
Where is he?
I toss the covers off and realize that I’m not cold. Usually the fire goes out in the night, and we have to start it again to warm up early the next day. It seems curious to me that I don’t have to do that. Maybe Lorn couldn’t sleep, and he’s reading in the living room?
The thought of Lorn hunched over a book with his burly shape and his robust beard has me grinning. Somehow, over the course of my time here, he has become dearer to me than anything. I ache to be near him, and his absence has me feeling unsettled.
My bare toes land on the wood floor as I make a quick exit in search of my mountain man. When I open the door, I can tell that the fire has been stoked. The scent of hot coffee permeates the air. I head in the direction of the kitchen and cast a glance at the table there.
Holy hell, that was a hot night. With Lorn, it seems to get better and better every time, and I’m looking forward to our next session. What new ways can I explore my sexual world with Lorn Hart?
My heart flutters at the thought, even as I continue my search for him. It’s not like he’s hard to find. Cabin’s pretty small. Man’s pretty big. The coffee press is set on the counter, and a steaming cup of sits next to it with a note.
My heart sinks.
I lean over and read the piece of paper. Lorn’s writing is neat and clear, written in all capital letters. So masculine.
Rayne,
The generator went out at the main cabin again. Didn’t want to wake you. I won’t be long. Enjoy some coffee, and I’ll be with you before you finish the last sip. Keep the doors locked. Don’t go out and find me. I’ll be ten minutes at the most.
Yours,
Lorn
PS Did I ever tell you that you have a perfect, perfect ass?
I chuckle as I read the last of the letter. What a goon Lorn is. I cast a glance at the coffee on the counter, then look back at the note.
I don’t want to sit here and wait for him. Besides, wasn’
t it he who said I shouldn’t be alone? A wave of uneasiness washes over me, and I glance at the front door. I’m angry because I’m scared. I’m an adult woman. I should be able to survive twenty minutes in a cabin by myself without Lorn standing guard over me, right?
Larry’s face flashes across my mind’s eye. I don’t feel that way. Not at all.
I need to get to Lorn.
I rush of panic sweeps through my belly, and it sours with the anger, right after. Will I ever be free of the fear? Will I ever get to live a normal life?
I change into a pair of sturdy jeans and a thick sweater, then slide a jacket over it and slip my socked feet into my boots. When I step outside, the misty swirl of early morning meets my gaze. I squint my eyes as I try and focus on the path to take. Granted, I’m not the best at navigating in the woods, but this morning I have an advantage. It hasn’t snowed since Lorn left, and my gaze lands on a sturdy set of footprints heading off in the direction of the main cabin.
I’m sure that’s the right direction. If I fall off a cliff again, well. I’ll have to be mindful not to. I set out into the snowy path that Lorn left behind as my eyes work to adjust to the dim light of dawn in the mountains. I hold my jacket tight around me as a shiver runs through my body, and I miss the warmth of Lorn’s cabin. It’s so cold out here, perhaps colder given the fact that I’m alone for the first time in ages.
Even before I traveled here, I wasn’t alone. I was with Helen. I was surrounded by people in the city. I was with my driver on the way up. As soon as I got into the woods I ran into Lorn, and I’ve been with him ever since. Every time I’ve been alone, something weird has happened. It’s not a good feeling.
I pick up my pace on the trail. There’s an opening up ahead, and I nearly jog to the edge of the path. When I get there, the main cabin stands large and proud beneath the shadow of the hills and mountains. The front door is propped open, but the front porch light is off, so Lorn hasn’t yet gotten the generator to work.
Honestly, what would Lorn do without me here?
I step closer to the hill, ready to take it slowly so I don’t slip and require more assistance, when I catch sight of something from the corner of my eye. When I turn, my spine turns to ice, and it has nothing to do with the weather.
A short distance away, the face that has haunted my waking and sleeping life for eleven long, horrible years waxes into view.
Larry Corker has finally shown himself.
His long face is gaunt, his hair brownish gray and straggling down to his shoulders. He’s dressed for the weather in a thick jacket and boots, and his eyes gleam with hatred as they watch me from about twenty feet away.
He lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers at me in greeting. That taunting fucker.
I don’t have time to be angry at him, because I’m too fucking scared. This is my boogeyman. The monster from under my bed come to life. He has appeared right out of the woods, and there’s no one here to help me.
I have to save myself.
I turn with a shriek and flee through the woods. I pick a trail and gun it with everything I’ve got, because my life depends on how fast I can run. In hindsight, I probably should have run closer to Lorn, but the truth is, with that hill, Larry would have had the upper ground behind me. If he has a gun, that route equals death.
His footsteps crunch behind me, his panting huffs between the trees. I pick up my pace and sprint as fast as I can through the thick snow. My legs burn at the extra effort it takes to lift them. It’s like running on the beach, though the deep sand is frozen instead of burning. I limp and wince at the shoots of pain in my ankle, then favor it. My lungs also burn as I press on, grateful for all the years I spent as a runner.
I reach a clearing and find that I’ve run to my old cabin, the one with the busted down door.
Great. Super helpful.
He’s closing in. If I don’t lock myself away somewhere, he’s going to catch me out in the open. At least the cabin might have a weapon of some kind I can use.
Like a knife in a gunfight. Oh my god, I’m so screwed.
I sprint on, the cold air stinging my lungs and throat as I fight to get to safer ground. My feet pound over the door and I reach down to lift it up. Somehow, I have the adrenaline to lift the door back up and I slam it closed behind me.
It won’t stay. There’s no way, but it’s another barrier. I slide a few chairs up against the wall, then turn to take in my surroundings.
The kitchen is stocked. There are a few sharp knives in there that I can use. Is there anything better, though? I glance at the woodstove and my gaze lands on the fire poker.
That could work.
I jump as the front door slams against the wall of furniture I laid out. Larry peeks inside, and his dark eyes sparkle with malice when he sees me.
“It’s amazing you’ve been able to live this long, Rayne. You have absolutely no common sense.”
Bile rises to my throat, and I swallow it down as I stare, wide-eyed and afraid, at him. I’ve imagined this meeting in my head, of course. So many times. Every time I have a gun, and I shoot him like he shot my father. I should have been more realistic. Of course, this is how the end would be.
Where’s my god damn mace? I packed it. I did!
Larry rolls his eyes at my attempt at a barrier. He kicks the door aside and shoves the chairs away. They fall over with a resounding crack, and I wince. I take a step back, but he doesn’t move from his place at the doorway. He wants to torture me. He wants to draw this out.
“I’ve been waiting so long to see your face again, Rayne Carr. Look at how you’ve grown. I always knew you would be a beautiful woman. I imagined how you would look every day I was in prison.”
“You look like shit,” I toss back.
I’ve been afraid for far too long. Today my fear has found me, and I have no choice but to face him. When people ask how I went out, they may never know the truth, but I’ll know.
I went out with courage.
Larry chuckles and glances down at himself. “Come now, I don’t look so bad. After so long in the can, I spent a lot of time beefing up, preparing for this moment. With every squat, every chest press, I imagined squeezing your throat until I watched the light fade from those pretty little eyes. I got into the best shape of my life, to be sure that when the time came, I’d be strong enough to overpower you.”
“The local police know you’re here. They aren’t like the others who trusted you. They’re already on their way up.”
Larry lifts a sardonic eyebrow at me. “Come now, Rayne. We both know that’s not true. With the snow up here, nobody’s coming to rescue you. That burly sack of shit has finally left you alone so I can finish the job and move on with my life. You’re done, Rayne. You’ve reached your time of payment for what you did to me. Are you ready to die?”
I square my shoulders and stare into his black, beady eyes. I stare into the face of death itself.
If I have to die, I will fight. My father deserves no less than that, and neither do I.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lorn
It’s astounding how much gasoline a generator needs. I can tell that my caretaker has worked on it a little since the last time, but that only serves to complicate what I need to do to get it up and working again.
I rub my hands together. I should be in bed, cuddled up with Rayne. When I heard the power go out again, I couldn’t bear to wake her up and drag her back out here for this. Her face was so perfectly restful and content. She looked like a freaking angel.
She might be mine, if I’m being honest.
“Ack!”
My body tenses at that scream. I glance up and see nothing around me, but the voice was distinctly feminine.
Distinctly familiar.
“Rayne,” I breathe. My breath puffs ahead of me and dissolves as I rush out from behind the cabin and stare around me. It’s still early in the morning, and a light fog covers the land above me, shielding anything up there from my view.
“Shit,” I grumble. I pick up my pace and hike up the hill until I reach the trail back to my cabin. Hopefully, if that was Rayne, she had the good sense to run back there. It might be the only place she knows how to get to.
I set my sights ahead and practically jog back to my cabin. When I enter the clearing, the chimney is going as it should be, and everything appears normal, apart from the mingled tracks in the snow. Christ, where is she? I have to check the cabin. Don’t fucking panic, asshole. Everything’s fine.
Why am I sick to my stomach?
I run up the porch steps and don’t bother stomping the snow from my boots as I pull open the door and step inside.
“Rayne?” I call out.
I’m met with stark, terrible silence. I walk to the kitchen, where I find her coffee untouched. When I reach the bedroom, my heart sinks—she isn’t there.
“Rayne!” I shout. I stand stock still and listen, but there’s nothing except the slight crackling of the flames in my fire.
“Fuck,” I breathe. I head right back out the door, and my eyes shoot down to the ground. My own set of tracks trails out to the main cabin, and Rayne’s are on top, mingling with them. She must have tried to follow me out there.
Why did I leave her alone? Why?
I follow her footprints back to the clearing at the main cabin, and then my stomach sours. Her tracks dart off to the side, and, right beside them, the familiar tracks of the mysterious boot print we’d found before.
Larry. He’s after her. She may already be dead.
My heart goes cold at the thought. I bolt in the direction of their footprints as my mind races. How long has he been after her? Why didn’t I look for the prints sooner, instead of bolting back to my cabin, like some fucking idiot? I should have been smarter. I should have known better.
There’s nothing for it now. I reach the clearing for her cabin. The door is still busted in, but it’s not all the way on the ground anymore, like someone propped it up. I don’t have time to care about what that reason is. I sprint through the snow until I reach the porch, and then my mind starts to work again.
