Wild Passion

by Dawn Luedecke

  Carrie shivered on the other side of the one-room cabin with the basket set securely in the center of the table closer to him. Opposite the table, a makeshift bed he’d built years ago lay a mere foot off the ground with the bedding rolled up to maintain some semblance of cleanliness. A trick he and Garrett had insisted upon when they built the cabin. After all, no one wanted to hike all the way up here only to have to wash and hang the bedding before using it. At least this way it was somewhat clean enough for use.

  He glanced between Carrie and the bed, and a vision of her sprawled out naked—her skin flushed with passion and body writhing in need—flashed across his mind. He grew instantly hard at the thought. Dear Lord, he’d take on another cougar if he could have that happen.

  When he had first threatened to seduce her, it was in jest. But the more time he spent with her, the more he weighed the benefits and consequences of such an occasion, the more he needed to feel her naked body against his. The woman dominated his every thought.

  “What now?” Carrie asked, huddled against the cold stove he and Garrett had put in years ago for cool days such as this one. Luckily he’d stocked firewood and kindling next to the door when he stayed up here the first night back on the mountain, and from the looks of things, he’d been the only one to visit this season.

  “We can both take off our clothes and I can keep you warm in bed, or I can make you a fire in the stove.” Heaven above, he hoped the former.

  She glared.

  Well, that answers it. He’d have to make her a fire.

  In a few minutes, the flames roared inside the stove and warmth began to fill the small chill inside the little cabin. And if nothing else, at least they could dry their rain-soaked clothes by the heat, before he took them off of her.

  Without waiting for her to object—which she most certainly would—he grabbed her hand and towed her next to the heat. She resisted only a moment before she must have realized his intent and thankfully obeyed. Of course, he wouldn’t mind tossing her over his shoulder and depositing her on the bed to keep warm.

  Simon stood behind Carrie, close enough to warm her backside and satisfy the burning need to touch her. He wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until the right moment.

  Nots had already curled up beneath the legs of the stove and drifted off to sleep. Simon smiled at the little scamp. When Bud had taken him to the other side of the wagon to show him his secret stash of home brew, he’d spotted the pups and known he had to get Carrie one instead. She’d always wanted a pet, but her parents were sticklers when it came to animals within their home.

  Carrie’s head fell back and brushed against his chest as she basked in the warmth. The touch caressed the sensitive skin of the large scars across his heart. Instead of his usual defensive reaction to being touched on his horrid wounds, the sensation of her against him—anywhere against him—made him ache to have more.

  “Are you warm?” He said the words to distract her from his touch as he reached up and caressed her shoulders and tops of her arms. He slid his palms up and down to aid in staving off the tremble in her body.

  “Mmm,” she answered. His breath hitched at the moan in her reply. “I’m getting there.”

  Blast, so was he!

  He’d had dozens of women throughout his adult life. Many more skilled at the game of lust than he was, but Carrie turned him into a giddy, confused greenhorn with no more than a husky noise. If he took her now, he wasn’t confident he could last any longer than a few seconds. And he knew their relationship—however friendly-foe it was lately—would only last until they walked out the cabin door.

  Blast the woman!

  After a few breaths—in a failed attempt to gain control of his desire—he tugged her back against him. He held his breath and only released it once she fell against his body and relaxed. They didn’t need the damned fire. Not with the way she heated him with a simple touch. Drove him to madness with a simple noise. The woman didn’t need to be seduced. She was already well versed in ways in which to drive a man to pure madness.

  He placed his hand over the exposed skin of her neck, his palm cupping her small throat as he slid up to her chin and back down to the edge of the valley of her breasts. What was she doing? She didn’t fight him the way she should.

  “Do you remember the time I tried to kiss you behind the schoolhouse?”

  She nodded; her head rubbed against his scars and somehow made him harder than he’d ever been before. He dipped his gaze to where his hand rested at the top of her breast, just above the collar to her cotton shirt.

  She took a deep breath. “I slapped you and ran away.”

  “Yes.” He moved his hand until the buttons to her bodice teased his fingertips. “You should do that now.”

  She swallowed hard. “Why?”

  Dear Lord above, she was going to punish him the way he wanted to do with her. He dipped his head low until his lips caressed the curve of her neck. He let his breath tickle the base of her neck as he spoke. “Because I don’t think I can stop myself.”

  At that he kissed her neck. The blasted woman ignored his request and tipped her head to the side. He responded as any red-blooded man would, by yanking the buttons to her blouse free and cupping her breast. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought he heard the ting of a button bounce off the stove, but he didn’t care to look.

  He had warned her.

  Now it was too late. He was at the point of no return, and she spun around in his arms. The sprite rushed toward the abyss with him, and somewhere deep within his soul a flame flickered to life.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked, his confidence shattered.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to ask of you.”

  “Ask me to leave.”

  Again, she shook her head.

  “Then ask me to kiss you.”

  The rise and fall of her chest stopped. She nodded slowly and licked her sunset-pink lips. Heaven above, she was beautiful.

  Not wasting time, he cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers. Heaven above, she tasted as sweet as he remembered. Like a fruit-filled elixir made just for him. He moved one palm behind her head to hold her steady as he plundered her mouth.

  Showing a bravery he didn’t feel, he slipped her blouse off her shoulders. Her breasts sprang free as the shirt dropped to the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but her skirt.

  Had she been in her usual fashionable attire—like what she wore in town—this would be a lot more difficult. But up here she was free to dress in nothing more than a blouse and skirt. Now there was nothing between him and the entirety of her naked body but that blasted skirt.

  He teased her lips with his, not quite kissing her, as he moved his mouth over hers. A distraction to keep her mind off his hands as he unbuttoned the last offensive clothing she wore. The fabric pooled at her feet, and he stood back, tipping his head to the side as he admired Carrie’s flawless beauty.

  He’d seen many women in nothing but what the Lord gave them, but none as beautiful as she was. Even with the strawberry birthmark on her hip above her curls, she was God’s greatest design. Perfection.

  She shivered and hugged herself, shielding her breasts from view. His chest tightened. Was she going to deny him now? Take away the one thing on earth he needed. Would she be so cruel?

  “Don’t do that,” he rasped, his mouth dry. He took a hard swallow. “Don’t ever cover up your body from me.”

  She licked her lips again and dropped her hands, once again revealing herself to him. The ache in his chest eased, and his mouth flooded with moisture.

  In one step, he pressed his body against hers. His clothes were the only things stopping him from taking her against the wall right where they stood. She needed time. Needed to be shown what it was like to be his lover. Taking her fast and hard would not be the way to win her over.

  He
cupped her buttocks in his palms and lifted her. She wrapped her hot thighs around his hips and bent down to kiss him as he carried her to the bed. A bed too small and low to be of any justice to the woman before him now. He should stop. Not because he wanted to, but because she deserved to be taken on a large down bed with forget-me-nots tossed about the sheets.

  It was too late. He couldn’t stop, but he would bed her the way she deserved or die dreaming of her blond hair spread over the flowers she had given him and on his sheets at home. Come hell or high water, he would have Carrie on the bed of his fantasy. One day.

  * * * *

  Carrie swallowed hard as Simon stopped at the foot of the makeshift bed. Her womanhood throbbed with the need for something, but she didn’t know exactly what she wanted. Simon dropped her gently to her feet. The rough fabric of his thick shirt and denim trousers were coarse against the sensitive skin of her thighs.

  Simon was right. She should have slapped him and run away like she had years ago, before she was friends with Beth. Back when they were in school and he’d kissed her. She’d known what his intentions were and gladly let it happen. But social protocol called for a slap, so she’d supplied it. Today she had no desire to run away. Today, up here alone on the mountain, she wanted to forget about what others expected of her and to simply be what she wished.

  With Simon, what she wished was to be his lover. At least for today. Tomorrow she would deal with the consequences of her actions, but this moment was too perfect to squander.

  She was tall enough that her line of sight came to his shirt front. She reached up and opened the buttons in the most brazen of ways. One by one the shirt loosened to reveal the angry scars across his chest.

  She knew the sight of them. Had been the one to wash and tend to said wounds after the attack. They were healing better than she’d hoped.

  As she undid the last button, she yanked the hem from where it was tucked into his waistband, and he sucked in a deep breath between his teeth. She dropped her hands. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  He gave an almost inaudible growl and clutched her wrists in his large hands. “The opposite, my love.”

  “Don’t call me that unless you mean it, and I know you don’t.”

  He bent and kissed her lips. She reached down and undid his pants, tugging them off his hips.

  He helped ease the drawers down until his manhood sprang free.

  She swallowed hard at the sight of how large he was. Good Lord, what had she gotten herself into?

  His eyes twinkled in the firelight, and he gave a smile that made her want to take another hard swallow. He watched her as he unfolded the bedroll and laid it out over the straw mattress. He stood upright, and his manhood once again caught her attention.

  “I…I…” She stopped talking, because frankly she had no idea what she was trying to say.

  “You don’t have to do anything, my love.” He encircled her in his embrace and eased her down on the bed. He kissed her hard and long. His tongue darted in and out. Each movement made her mind swirl. She wanted more. When she grew dizzy with the need for air, he lifted his head back and peered down at her. “Except feel. Just feel me. All of me.”

  She licked her lips and ran her fingers down over his scars. The marks that tortured his soul, but ones she loved because they were a part of him. He quivered at her touch but didn’t pull back like she’d honestly thought he would. With another brazen move, she reached down and wrapped her hands around his manhood. His quiver turned fierce, and his breath came in short bursts.

  He groaned, reached down to grab her wrist to tug it above her head, and brought the other to lay over the first. He adjusted on his elbow to pin her hands to the bed with the arm he braced on. With his free hand, he caressed her. Each touch, each stroke sent sharp heat to the place beneath her curls. She arched her hips upward, begging for something.

  “Ah, my love, you want me inside you?” His voice was huskier than she’d ever heard from him, but it mimicked the sultry voice inside her head whenever she tried to talk herself out of his arms. Of course, she didn’t want to leave his embrace.

  She nodded, but in truth, she was scared.

  “I’ll give you what you want, but it will hurt. Only for a moment. After that you’ll feel nothing but pure rapture.” He ran kisses down her neck and back up to her chin. Then placed a passionate one on her lips. “Do you still want me inside you?”

  She nodded again but focused on keeping her breath steady.

  “Ask me,” he said.

  “What?”

  “What do you ask of me?”

  “All I ask of you,” she said, no longer able to deny the need to feel the sensual promise he’d made come to fruition, “is to love me.”

  Simon sucked in another breath through his teeth and kissed her harder than he ever had before. His tongue violent against her mouth, but welcome. He moved his body over hers and, with his knees, spread open her legs.

  Almost as soon as she’d opened to him, he gently pressed his manhood into her. She clenched her thighs instinctively when a piercing ache shot through her core.

  “Easy, love,” he whispered, and kissed her hair. “Give it a moment.”

  “You’ve done this before?” she didn’t know why she asked the question. Maybe to fill the awkward silence her weakness had caused.

  He shook his head. “Not like this.”

  The throbbing continued for what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds. Soon, Simon flexed as if to move, and she clenched her legs, waiting for the pain.

  “It won’t happen again. Trust me.” He covered her mouth with his and ran his hand down her side, to cup one buttock with his hand. He pressed his scarred cheek to hers, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the connection. How the one simple action spoke more than he would dare say. She nodded against his face and kissed the scar.

  She eased the hold her legs had on his hips, and he moved. She gasped. Not out of pain, but of the need for air.

  Simon withdrew and pressed into her again, and she fought the urge to cry out. He repeated the motion, and each time she needed extra breath until she grew dizzy. The need to release the pressure building within her dominated her every thought. She fought the urge until Simon leaned his head against hers as he took her. “Let it go, my love.”

  She obeyed, unable to do anything else. The wave of relief hit her like one of the lightning bolts thundering outside the cabin. She shuddered beneath him mere seconds before he did the same on top of her.

  “I shouldn’t have done that inside of you. I’m sorry.”

  All she could do was shake her head. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she didn’t care. He’d told her to trust in him, and at that moment, that’s all she could do. Trust.

  Chapter 13

  Simon tangled his fingers in Carrie’s hair and leaned forward to smell the sweet scent of her soap. She was more beautiful than he’d imagined, lying next to him with nothing but him and the thin blanket he’d pulled over them to keep her warm from the slight chill.

  What he wanted to do was pull back the covers and follow his hands’ progression as he ran them over every inch of her skin. He wanted to study the contours of her body. Imprint the memory of her on his mind for all eternity.

  Her words rang in his memory like a chapel bell. “Love me.”

  He knew her words were meant for a moment of passion. Perhaps prompted by the nickname he’d given her in order to irritate her. A nickname he now knew fit her to perfection. He did love her. Always had. Only Carrie could center him on this earth. He was only home whenever she was with him. All of those times she visited his house. All of the moments he saw her smiling face in camp and felt grounded. It was all because of her. She was what made him a better man. He had to make her love him. He couldn’t live without Carrie Kerr.

  He toyed with h
er hair for a moment longer, then kissed her passion-plumped lips. The image of her beside him for the rest of his life flickered the flame she’d ignited into a roaring fire. He ran a thumb over her mouth. “We should get to camp before Aunt June sends a search party.”

  Carrie sat upright, holding the blankets over her chest. He frowned at the sudden bout of modesty. Instead he tugged the blanket down for one last view of her bounty. She snatched the cover back up and glowered. “We need to dress now. Aunt June will send a search party. She swore to me she would. And we all know she keeps her word.”

  Simon would have chuckled at Carrie’s wide-eyed stare if he hadn’t felt the same. The last thing he needed in his newfound quest to make Carrie fall in love with him was Aunt June sticking her nose where it shouldn’t be. A gift the woman had in barrels.

  It took a few minutes to dress, but luckily their clothes had dried, despite being hastily deposited around the small room. If he were a better man, he would have hung them near the stove to dry.

  Carrie buttoned the top of her blouse and tucked it in as Nots woke suddenly and ran to the door to bark.

  “Either we have a visitor, or she needs to use the bushes.” Simon slipped on his jacket—the last of his wardrobe—and quickly tidied up the bedding.

  “Or there’s a bear.” Carrie tilted her head and wrinkled her nose as she wrapped her wool shawl around her small shoulders. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Simon stood from rolling up the blankets and stared at the door. “I’ll check it out.”

  Carrie scooped Nots into her arms as Simon slipped outside. The air was thick with moisture, but the sky had already cried out all of the rain in the clouds.

  It didn’t take long before a flicker of crimson caught his eyes from the outside corner of the cabin. The red flannel shirt he’d seen Thomas wearing earlier flashed through his memory.