by Amy Brent
The thought bummed me out yet elated me at the same time.
“Grab your chainsaw,” Gabe ordered through the scarf covering his mouth.
I nodded my head and followed the nearly-covered path I had shoveled earlier to my shed. I grabbed the saw, fired it up to make sure it was ready to go and started back towards Gabe. He was carrying his own saw.
We walked in silence, following my snow-covered driveway to the road. The tree was about forty feet up the mountain road leading to the lodge.
“You start on that side and I’ll start here, huh? Looks like the best thing we can do is chop it into small logs. There’s no way we can pull this thing off the road without a truck,” Gabe observed.
I nodded my head. “Got it.”
We fired up our chainsaws and started on opposite ends of the tree where it covered the road. We worked together to cut the tree into sections about six feet long.
Once finished, we shut off the saws and began the tedious task of rolling the logs through the heavy snow.
“You could have warned me it was a big fir, I would have ate my Wheaties.”
“Like I came out here to check, first.”
“Why didn’t they take care of it?” I asked, noticing the tracks on the other side of the road.
Gabe made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a curse. “Like those pansy-asses could run a saw. They took one look at the tree and hightailed it right back to the lodge.”
“I guess that’s why they have us around.”
“Guess so. This’ll make some great firewood next year,” he added.
“Yeah, it will. I think we need to cut these smaller. This is going to take us all night,” I groaned, standing and rubbing the small of my back.
The log I was trying to move off the road had to be close to twenty-four inches in diameter.
“Got a hot date? Something you in a hurry to get back to?” Gabe teased.
“No, I want to be able to walk like a human tomorrow,” I shot back.
“Cut it if you need to,” he ordered.
I stared at the other ten logs that were littering what was the roadway, even though it was covered in snow. I didn’t care if it made me less manly, I didn’t want to strain my back and not be able to take care of stuff around my house. I couldn’t afford to be laid up.
Grabbing my chainsaw, I started cutting. I laughed when Gabe did the same. The guy could pretend all he wanted. Those logs were no joke.
Once again, silence enveloped us as we worked to clear the road. We rolled the logs under the branches of a massive pine tree. Once the roads were clear, we would come back, get the wood, split it between us and take it home to use for heating next year.
We talked about the storm while we worked. I waited for him to mention Calla, but he never did. I wasn’t quite sure how I would answer any questions he had about her.
“I think that’s good. They can get through. Once things clear up, we can do a better job,” Gabe declared after the last log had been pushed off the road.
I was sweating under all the gear, but knew better than to take off my coat. That’s how people died.
We started the walk back up my driveway. Going back was much harder than it had been walking down. The snowshoes gave us an advantage, but it was still tough going, especially with the heavy chainsaws in hand.
“How are you getting along?” I asked Gabe.
“Fine. Got plenty of water and food,” he responded. “You? Got enough to last you and your pretty little guest.”
There it was. I knew he would mention her at some point. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I bet you are. So, is it the woman you said you knew from a long time ago?”
I hesitated. “Yeah. Crazy, huh?”
Gabe made a grunting sound. “I see.”
Both of us were breathing hard as we crested the hill. It was flat from that point to the cabin, which I was extremely grateful for. The day had been taxing. I couldn’t wait to get home and rest my weary bones.
“Is Search and Rescue going to make it out tomorrow?” Gabe asked.
“I haven’t heard, but I don’t see why not. If they can get to town, they can pick her up.”
Gabe was silent for a minute. “Supposed to get a second round of snow.”
“What? When?” I asked, realizing another storm could extend Calla’s stay.
“According to the weather alert sometime tonight and into tomorrow. Could be worse than the first round.”
“Shit,” I mumbled.
“You’re not listening to the weather station?” he asked, with irritation. “Didn’t I tell you how important that was?”
I shrugged, “I guess I figured snow was snow. Can’t stop it. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“Or wanting to go anywhere,” he quipped.
“You think they’ll get out to my place to get her?” I asked, in all seriousness.
He stopped walking. “I don’t think they will. I guess you could put up a fuss or take her up yourself if it’s a big problem.”
“No. It’s fine,” I said, a little too quickly.
Gabe chuckled. “I thought as much.”
We walked along until we were close to my cabin. “Want to come in and warm up a bit?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nah, I need to get home. I got me a hot date with an ice-cold beer and fat steak.”
I laughed. “That is the one thing I don’t have, which I really wish I did.”
“You’re out of steaks already?” he asked, aghast.
“Hell no. I’m out of beer.”
The glow of the flashlight illuminated Gabe’s horror-stricken face. “Fuck that. What are you doing?”
I laughed. “I’ve got a couple bottles of whiskey. I’ll survive. We had backstrap earlier. A cold beer sure would have made it taste a lot better.”
He nodded his head. “I bet your city slicker girlfriend was real happy to dine on Bambi. I’m guessing she’d prefer a fancy bottle of wine.”
A sense of pride washed over me. “Actually, she did like it and she seems just fine with the whiskey.”
I regretted it the second I said it. I had felt like I needed to defend Calla. I shouldn’t, and certainly didn’t need to defend her food preferences, especially to Gabe. I couldn’t explain why I felt pride over the fact that Calla liked the food. She didn’t look the part, but she was a down-to-earth girl who was completely comfortable in my environment.
“Good. Good for her and good for you, I guess. You don’t need a picky eater,” he said, with amusement in his voice.
“I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” I told him, as he started to walk away.
“Turn on the damn weather station, boy. Pay attention.”
I chuckled, “I will.”
“Have fun with your lady friend,” he shouted, his back to me.
I opened my mouth to say I would, but stopped myself. Did he think I was enjoying her company? I wanted to deny it, but deep down, if I had to admit it, I was. I’d certainly had fun earlier today and our dinner earlier had been very enjoyable as well. It wasn’t so bad having her crash at my cabin.
Stopping at the bottom of the porch steps, I took off the snowshoes, leaving the chainsaw on the porch. I could see the candlelight in the window. Calla was inside. I had a woman in my cabin, waiting for me. It was nice to come home to someone, a feeling I wouldn’t have expected. I liked my dog, but sometimes I did get a little lonely.
Chapter Eighteen
Calla
“He’s fine, Calla. The man knows what he’s doing,” I said, as I laid out the cards I had found for another round of solitaire.
After Jake had left, I had tried to write, but I was too preoccupied with his safety. It was dark, cold and dangerous out there. If something happened to him, who would save him? He was the saver. He couldn’t be the one in need of saving. I was certainly of no help. I wouldn’t even know who to call to report him missing.
I realized I was complete
ly dependent on the man. That was dangerous. I picked up my tea and sipped the hot liquid. It burned all the way down my throat. It wasn’t the heat causing the fire in my belly. It was the whiskey I had added to the cup. I had scoured his cupboards and found the box of peppermint tea. I didn’t know how old it was, but didn’t care. The tea was really only a carrier for the whiskey since I didn’t want to straight-shot the harsh liquor.
The sound of stomping on the porch grabbed my attention. I froze, my hand in the air, ready to put down a card. Casper didn’t growl, but his tail thumped against the ground.
“Thank God,” I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. I knew it had to be Jake because the dog would have growled had it been someone else.
The door swung open and Casper raced to greet his master.
“Hi,” I said with a smile, hoping he was in a better mood.
He walked in, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the hook behind the stove.
“Can I make you some tea?” I asked.
He looked at me, the table where I had my game of solitaire spread out and then the cup in my hand. “You’ve made yourself right at home,” he murmured.
I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. The expression on his face gave me no hints. I decided to ignore it and make the tea anyway. I grabbed the pot of hot water off the stove, being careful not to get too close to him as he finished taking off the rest of his gear.
I made the tea, added a healthy amount of whiskey and waited for him to finish.
“What are you playing?” he asked, using his head to point at the table.
I shrugged, “Solitaire.”
“I thought you didn’t like cards.”
“I don’t really, but it was better than sitting here in the dark with absolutely nothing to do.”
I handed him the cup. He walked to the table and sat in the other chair, sipping the tea. “Holy shit. That’s stout. Is that what you’re drinking?”
I smiled and nodded. “I’ll owe you a bottle of whiskey when this is all done.”
“I can teach you a card game,” he volunteered.
“Sounds fun,” I purred, more than happy to play cards with him.
He raised an eyebrow at my tone. “Poker is easy enough to learn.”
I nodded. “I’ve watched it played and I’ve played it on an electronic game. I kind of know the basics.”
He smiled. “There are many different kinds of poker.”
“Oh, well, go easy on me then.”
“We won’t be betting.”
“Good. I have a feeling I would lose everything,” I said, taking a healthy drink from my cup of tea.
He ran over the basics of the game and dealt a few practice hands before we really started playing. It wasn’t hard, but I didn’t have the attention span to pay a lot of attention to what he may or may not have.
“Ready to up the ante a little?” he asked.
The whiskey had given me a nice buzz, so I was up for anything. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”
“Strip poker.”
I grinned. The man had a lot more clothes on than I did, but I didn’t mind a bit. I think we both knew he was a better player and I would be naked in no time. “Okay, but no cheating,” I winked.
“I don’t think I’m going to have to cheat,” he replied.
Immediately, I lost the first hand, which wasn’t a big surprise. I was wearing a t-shirt, his pants and his socks. I could see the gleam in his eye as he waited for me to take off a piece of clothing.
“I’ll take off a sock,” I said with a smile, knowing he had expected something a bit more revealing.
“Has to be both socks. Socks are a pair and count as one piece of clothing,” he said, with all seriousness.
“Fine,” I said as I nodded my head. I had no problem getting naked for the man. Off came the socks while he dealt the next hand.
I lost again. “Shirt,” I said, pulling the shirt over my head.
His eyes were on my naked breasts, greedily staring. I could feel my nipples harden and stand at attention, and it had nothing to do with the room temperature. It was plenty warm in the cabin.
“Ready to try again?” he asked in a husky voice.
I nodded my head, “Bring it on.”
The whiskey was really flowing, but I needed more. I slowly stood up and leaned across the table to grab his cup. My breasts hung dangerously close to his face. I heard his sharp intake of breath and gave a little wiggle to bounce them in front of his face.
With both cups in hand, I walked to the kitchen and made us a couple more drinks before slowly walking back to the table. His eyes were on me the entire time.
“Ready,” I declared after taking another drink.
He dealt the cards. I was really hoping I would win at least one hand. While I was all for being naked with him, I wanted to see his body as well.
He slammed his cards down. “Pair of eights.”
I had no idea if I held anything good or not. “Do I win?” I asked, putting my cards on the table.
He chuckled. “Not even close. Strip.”
“Okay,” I said, standing up. I slowly pulled the long johns down my legs. I put one foot on the chair and pulled that pant leg off before repeating the action with the other leg. With the pants off, I raised my arms and slowly turned around. “I guess you win.”
I sat back in the chair and waited. My heart was racing as I wondered what he would do next. I could see the fire in his eyes and I silently begged him not to leave me hanging.
“Yeah, I won,” he repeated, in a strained voice.
I smiled, took another drink of the fiery liquid, licked my lips and looked at him. “Now, what?”
“Truth or Dare,” he said.
I blinked. That was not what I had expected, but I was all too happy to play another round.
“Dare,” I whispered. If he pulled the same stunt he had last night, I would find a way to get revenge.
“Pleasure yourself,” he said, in a low, husky voice.
My initial reaction was hell no. That was way too embarrassing. I couldn’t do that, not in front of him at least. Or could I? I glanced around the room, taking in the rather muted lighting from the few candles I had left burning after I shut off the glaring lantern. It created the perfect ambiance for a little walk on the wild side. I could definitely get into it I decided.
The whiskey was burning through my veins, making me feel far more daring than I normally would be.
“Okay,” I said, surprising myself as the words crossed my lips.
I ran a hand over one breast and then the other before bringing up my second hand. In tandem, I slowly massaged each breast, running my nipples between my fingers. I dropped one breast and ran the hand down my stomach, reaching between my legs.
He growled. “I can’t see!”
I nodded, understanding he needed the full show. I stood, scooted my chair to the side and sat down again. I no longer had the safety of the table hiding me. I was terrified and excited at the same time. I moved the hand back between my legs and fumbled a bit.
“Do it, Calla. I want to see your fingers sliding inside. I want to watch you make yourself cum.”
Nodding, I continued, encouraged by his demands. I opened my legs a little wider and ran a finger down my slit. I felt myself grow wet. With another gentle motion, I ran the same finger up my slit, barely touching myself. The feathery touch sent a shiver down my spine. My legs opened wider while my other hand cupped my breast and pinched my nipple.
I slid my butt forward on the chair and leaned back, giving myself greater access to my core. His eyes widened at the scene before him. My finger slid back and forth before parting the folds, guarding my core. With one finger, I tested the wetness, barely moving inside. I brushed over my clit, pulling a gasp from deep inside.
“More,” he demanded.
I could feel myself losing control. I watched his eyes move over my body, focused on my pussy. I dropped my breast, spread my
legs to straddle the chair and opened my pussy lips with two fingers before pushing another finger inside.
I moaned at the pleasure. His gaze was so intense, it felt as if he was creating a fire between my legs with his hot look of pure, unadulterated passion. My finger moved in and out, slowly at first, rubbing and stroking the clit. My head dropped back to rest on the chair back as my fingers administered sheer pleasure to my swollen pussy.
“Another,” he demanded.
I didn’t ask what he meant and pushed another finger inside and jerked forward.
“Fuck!” I cried out.
“More, Calla.”
I moved the two fingers in and out, my juices pooling in the seat. I could feel the orgasm brewing. Part of me wanted to hold out, to wait for him to finish it, but the other part of me was lost in the moment. I couldn’t stop. I moved my fingers in and out, pushing against my clit with each slide inside.
“Ohhh,” I moaned, my head rolling back and forth across the chair.
“Keep going. Spread your legs.”
My legs were trying to close, to trap my fingers inside. I consciously made the effort to open them wider, giving me unfettered access deep inside.
“Pinch your nipples,” he ordered.
I opened my eyes, met his and moved one wet hand covered in pussy juices up to my breasts. I pulled my fingers out of myself and rubbed them over my nipples before violently pinching both. The pain pulled a cry from my throat. My throbbing pussy demanded attention again. I closed my legs, squeezing my thighs together as I slid back and forth on the chair.
“Finger fuck yourself,” his voice cut through the haze.
I moaned, “Fuck me, Jake, please. I need you.”
“No. I want to see you make yourself cum.”
Yelling in frustration before spreading my legs and pushing a single finger inside. I sat up in the chair and looked down at what I was doing. The sight of my finger pushing inside me was extremely erotic. I looked up to see him watching intently. His head popped up and he looked at me for a split second before dropping his gaze again.
