Hunting April

by Danica St. Como

  She slurred the words, clearly still caught up in the moment. "Is okay. Honest.

  Full-time pills, no periods, no baby." She twisted under him again."Do me, dammit.

  Daniel, fuck me right now, this minute! "

  Barely hanging on as it was, he catapulted over the top with her command. His spine felt electrified as the sensations traveled to his balls, then up and through his raging, uncloaked cock. He grabbed her hips, then drove into her until he had nowhere left to go. Naked flesh against naked flesh, he thought he'd lose his mind. So hot, so smooth, so fucking tight . . . .

  She writhed under him, making little mewling sounds, her nails raking his flanks. "Daniel, oh dear God in heaven, Daniel, baby, I'm coming again. Baby, please—fuck me like you mean it!"

  Cached in those words, her request incited him to riot. He rearranged himself to trap one of her legs between his, then pounded into her. When she shoved hard against him with a snap of her hips, and tweaked his nipples with her fingertips, he totally lost control. In tandem with her cry, the walls of her pussy grabbing his shaft hurled him over the edge of reason. His seed blasted into her with such force behind it that he couldn't draw breath.

  No usually a praying man, he prayed now: Dear God in heaven and all the saints, I hope she was right about being on the pill. If not, we're definitely in trouble now. In spite of the apprehension, there was also the tiniest spark of exhilaration. Would that be such a terrible thing?

  Control slowly returned. Daniel raised his head; his iron-muscled arms finally began to tremble with fatigue.

  April shifted under him."I don't really want you to move, but you might be more comfortable if you did. Come here, next to me."

  He lowered himself, lay next to her, pulled her closer. "Darlin' angel, are you all right?"

  "Better than all right. Is that what orgasms always feel like?" Even in the semi-dark, she seemed to catch his look.

  "What do you mean?"

  "When someone, well, y'know, comes. Is the feeling always so intense? I still feel little tingly pulsy twitches in my fingertips and toes."

  She snuggled. He held her tighter, his feeling of possession complete.

  "Tingly pulsy twitches? Baby, I'm almost afraid to ask—haven't you ever climaxed before?" How could any man have been in this woman's bed and not enjoyed her to the fullest? How could he not ensure her pleasure was complete, before attaining his own satisfaction?

  And if you did know the answer, you daft fool, what would you have done? You were still in Martone's employ, and she was his fiancée. Would you have broken a rule that you consider inviolate, to be with her?

  "I thought I did. Maybe. Now I'm not sure. I don't think so. No. I'd definitely say no. Nothing that ever felt like you made me feel. Twice. At least twice. Maybe more. I'll know better when all my body parts stop vibrating. That is, if my body parts ever stop vibrating." Her sigh came low, breathy, drawn out. A sigh of total contentment.

  * * * * *

  Two rooms away, Glennon growled as he heard April's cries of release echo through the lodge. He jumped up from the edge of his bed, then paced the floor. The room wasn't large enough to release his anger. You dumb, stupid bastard, you turned her away. You let it happen. You chased her right into Wyndsor's arms. And you know for a fucking fact that he won't give her up. He isn't going to share.

  He'd been attracted to Alice Green-April Hall from the moment she woke in his bed, without knowing anything about her—but he'd been willing to explore the possibilities. He encouraged her, paved the way until she offered herself to him. And what did I do? I turned her the fuck away, without rhyme or reason, without explanation. After all she'd been through, I went right ahead and added to the hurt.

  It would be dawn soon, but he knew he was too agitated to deal with the happy couple over coffee in the harsh reality of the morning sun. In Marine recon stealth mode, he dressed and quietly made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a handful of granola bars from the cupboard, stashed them in his vest pocket.

  As pissed off as he was, he still knew better than to leave the lodge without letting someone know where he planned to be. Taking the notepad from the basket next to the fridge, he scribbled a quick note and stuck it to the shiny stainless steel refrigerator door. Yeah, so, I'm being childish—what of it?

  Once outside, Glennon hesitated on the back patio, his breath leaving a faint vapor trail in the damp morning air, cool even in June. Now what, genius? How are you going to leave without making enough noise to wake the dead?

  The moonlight hadn't totally diminished, making it possible for him to reach the equipment shed without a flashlight. He rolled the big steel door along its runner, thankful to whoever kept the door slides greased. The first ATV he reached had the key in the ignition. Good enough. Throwing the gearshift into neutral, he pushed the quad out of the shed and steered it down the path. The slight incline toward the parking area helped him on his way. He continued pushing the machine for another hundred yards down the long drive, until he was sure he was far enough away to start the engine and not alert the others. When the motor kicked over, he feathered the throttle lever gently with his thumb to urge the quad forward. A few minutes more, and he was heading westbound along the seasonal road.

  Chapter Ten

  Wednesday morning

  Daniel woke to sunlight and bird song. And to the annoying din of an alarm.

  Where the hell is Garrett? Glennon-the-tech-rat was the Einstein in charge of all things electronic. Daniel knew little about how the lodge operated. After the night we had, it's too early for this shit. I planned a slugabed morning for April and me, definitely a lie-in with no interference.

  He reluctantly pulled on drawstring pajama pants, grabbed his Sig, then followed the sound of the screeching alarm down to the kitchen. A red light flashed on a wall unit, apparently targeting the source of the noise. He hit the intercom button. The red light went out, resulting in blessed silence as the alarm ceased blaring. A second light blipped green.

  He spoke into the contraption."This had better be brilliant."

  No voice responded, but another alert sounded. The label on the wall unit indicated Gate, then another green light flashed.

  At a disadvantage, Daniel could only assume someone had opened the gate.

  Someone with a key card. Fuck.

  The major part of the lodge front had been constructed with large panels of heavy, double-paned glass, including the giant, French-style entrance doors. Given the open floor plan on the main floor, Daniel had no place to conceal himself Garrett's Navigator was parked in the garage, behind the closed door. With no interior lodge lights in evidence, whoever approached the front door would probably assume no one was in residence.

  A dust cloud from the direction of the graveled road signaled the hurried approach of a vehicle. Daniel turned a large, leather wing chair around to provide cover, then waited.

  A Land Rover appeared, moving quickly. The driver brought the vehicle to an abrupt stop; gravel shifted and added to the dust cloud.

  By the time Daniel relocated nearer to the front door, weapon in hand and at the ready, a very attractive, darkly tanned woman with long, sleek legs and a long blonde ponytail had bolted up the stairs. She wore khaki cargo shorts and shirt with some sort of official insignia on her sleeves. Her uniform came complete with a sidearm.

  Without hesitation, she used a key card to open the front doors. Swinging open one of the doors, she finally noticed Daniel facing her in a classic two-handed firing position, his body slightly bent at the knees.

  The woman didn't even blink. "Move over, big fella, you're in my way." She ignored the gun in his hands, pushed by him without a second glance, ran to the kitchen, grabbed the satphone.

  "Mac, I'm at Sanctuary. Sorry to lose you before, but the phone charger in the Rover went tits up and the damned battery is dead. Yes, I'm sure I can't reach him alone. No, I don't know if he's still conscious. No, I can't wait for you, I'm heading back as soon as I'm off
the phone. No, I didn't see any sign of Black Crow. But there's a large, half-naked dude here in the lodge who met me at the door with what appears to be a Sig Sauer. Really large. Uh huh, I see. Yes, I'll meet you there. Don't dawdle, partner.

  He's in a bad way."

  She disconnected, reached into the refrigerator, took out a gallon jug of orange juice, then guzzled from the container. "Whew, that's better."

  She finally turned toward Daniel, who still had the Sig pointed at her. She stood hipshot, hand on hip, orange juice still in her other hand. Her eyebrow rose in an unasked question.

  Daniel kept his weapon trained on her."Ma'am, who the hell are you, and who's injured?"

  As if on cue, April stumbled barefoot into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, hair sticking out in all directions. One of Daniel's T-shirts reached nearly to her knees. There was no doubt about it, she definitely looked sex-tousled. "What's going on?"

  Keeping the gun steady with one hand and not taking his eyes from the target, Daniel grabbed April with his other hand, quickly tucked her behind him.

  The blonde seemed to interpret the situation correctly, in a New York minute.

  She grabbed a note from the door of the fridge, smacked it down on the surface of the table.

  "Everyone in these parts always leave notes. The sheriff said you must be the folks who came up with Glennon. Then you probably need to know that Glennon's out at the crash site, currently at the bottom of the ravine among the river rocks. Injured. I don't know how badly. Unconscious, when I left. My satellite phone charger died.

  Sheriff's on the way with emergency crews and equipment. I need to get back. Any sort of assistance would be greatly fucking appreciated."

  She returned the juice container to the fridge, crossed her arms, then assumed an aggressive wide-legged so there posture.

  Daniel picked up the note, the handwriting done in heavy black strokes.

  Investigating crash site—be back later.

  "What bloody crash site?"

  "Great, newbies, just what I need. Look, big guy. I assume you're supposed to be here, but there's really no time for long explanations. A bad guy took out Special Agent Lorelei's vehicle, she crashed, Adam and Lucian took out the bad guy. Glennon promised to examine the site. Okay? I need to get back. Are you going to help or continue to stand there with your thumbs up your butt?"

  She boldly examined him from head to toe."You might want to pull on jeans and a shirt. And boots. Sturdy boots." As an afterthought, she held out her hand.

  "Officer Abigail O'Connell. Catamount Lake District Game Warden. We gotta go.

  Like now." She opened the refrigerator, grabbed two protein shakes as if she knew they would be there. "No time for breakfast. You might want to grab a couple." She ignored April, turned on her heel and headed back out toward the driveway.

  Daniel turned to April, but she was already moving to the stairs.

  "No time to waste. Let's go."

  In about seven minutes flat, they were dressed in the manner ordered and pulling out of the driveway in Glennon's Navigator, O'Connell's Land Rover in the lead.

  Daniel kept his distance, so the dust didn't blind him.

  He reached over, took April's hand.

  "Angel, this is a hell of a way to wake up, after—well, just after. Are you all right?" We should have had time this morning to sort this out, talk it over, not fly out the door without warning. Damn Garrett again.

  She squeezed his fingers. "I'm fine. Actually, I'm great. Why did Glennon leave without telling anyone? Isn't that against protocol?"

  Daniel looked straight ahead. "Best guess? He heard us."

  Her head snapped toward him, her expression horrified. "Oh sweet Jesus Christ in a cigar box, are you sure?"

  "Baby, we weren't exactly quiet. Sound apparently echoes in the lodge. I heard him up and moving in the wee hours. Didn't hear him after that, thought he went back to bed. He must have left before the birds woke up."

  Her face was still red. "What am I going to do?"

  "April, there's nothing to do. We're all adults." The stupid sod had his chance. He blew it. There's no going back, and I'm not giving you up.

  "But . . . ."

  "Hold that thought, my dear. I believe we've arrived."

  O'Connell leaped out of the Land Rover, then sprinted past one of the lodge's ATVs, past boulders and trees, heading to what looked like the edge of level ground.

  Daniel caught a glimpse of the Rover's bumper sticker as he pulled in next to the game warden's vehicle and parked: Don't follow or you WILL get stuck. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, he chuckled. She has balls, I'll give her that much.

  He stepped out of the Navigator, leaned back in. "April, stay in the truck. It appears that help will be arriving at any moment, and I don't need you exposed more than absolutely necessary. I'll see what I can do to assist until rescue reaches us. Hunker down, try not to speak to anyone. We're not on holiday."

  She withdrew her fingers from the door handle, nodded.

  "Be careful." She hit the button to lock all the doors.

  And then he was gone.

  * * * * *

  Daniel expertly handled the mountaineering rig and ropes that had been packed in the Rover, which allowed Abigail to rappel quickly down the rocky slope to the floor of the ravine. She carried a rolled blanket around her neck and wore a backpack stuffed with first aid supplies.

  After the sheriff arrived with the search and rescue team, Daniel stepped out of the way. It didn't take long for the well-equipped specialists to secure Glennon in the rigid stretcher, then haul him up and over the boulders and outcroppings. When he arrived on level ground, Glennon was semi-conscious, delirious with pain. The paramedics stabilized his right leg and left arm, administered morphine for the trip to the trauma center. With the patient secured, the ambulance pulled away, lights flashing.

  Abigail followed in the Rover, her emergency lights flashing as well.

  The sheriff found Daniel leaning against the hood of the Navigator.

  "Brian MacBride, Sheriff of Catamount Lake. Everyone calls me Mac." They shook hands."You must be Wyndsor. Lucian called, said you fellas would be staying at the lodge."

  MacBride removed his uniform hat, ran his hand through his hair, then deliberately leaned forward and eyed the passenger hidden behind the dark glass of the Navigator windows.

  Daniel didn't offer an introduction.

  "Any idea why Glennon decided to head out so early? Alone?"

  Daniel shrugged. "He left a note, that's all I know." And it's not my job to fill in the missing puzzle pieces. Or act as Garrett's bloody nanny. He's a big boy.

  "Yeah, that's what Abby said. Strange. He knows better, way out here in no man's land."

  Daniel cocked an eyebrow. "You're acquainted with Garrett?"

  MacBride set his hat firmly on his head, then nodded. "He comes up, stays at the lodge with Adam and Lucian. We've been known to hoist a few cold ones. We were involved in a case . . . ." MacBride trailed off, offered no further explanation.

  "What's with the game warden?" And is she going to be a liability?

  "Abigail? She's a game warden for the great state of Maine, covers our area. She spotted one of the lodge's ATVs in the clearing. Up here, folks watch out for each other.

  She nosed around, saw the ground scruffed up a bit, finally got close enough to the edge of the ravine to hear Glennon call for help. You know the rest."

  "Lucky for Garrett." Lucky I didn't have the opportunity before help arrived to thump the bugger's skull for exposing us to the world.

  "Damn lucky. The senior EMT is fairly certain Glennon's femur is shattered, busted all to hell, along with a dislocated shoulder, possible fractured forearm, probable concussion, possible cracked ribs, and a whole list of other, less serious injuries. It appears he may have perched on a flat boulder to look down slope, then the edge gave way under him. We've had killer thunderstorms with a deluge or two lately. Running water probab
ly undermined the earth under the rock. No sign of foul play. We'll know more when he's conscious and coherent. Abigail will keep us posted from the trauma center."

  "Trauma center?"

  "Yeah, we get hikers and hunters, mountain climbers and nature lovers, as well as snowshoe enthusiasts and skiers. Lack of knowledge combined with an overindulgence in fermented beverages tends to result in loads of business for the Catamount Lake Trauma Center. First Response, Search and Rescue, EMT ambulance service, even K9 units. Med-Evac helicopters when possible, but the tree canopy is too heavy out here. Our guys—and gals—are the best."

  "Who or what is Black Crow?"

  MacBride eyes widened before he schooled his expression into one of casual interest. "Where did you hear that name?"

  Daniel knew he'd surprised the sheriff, decided to match casual with casual.

  "Game warden O'Connell mentioned it when she called you."

  " Ah, right. It's a local issue. Bobby Black Crow is a poacher we've been after for a while. He showed up about fifteen years ago, after he opted out of the Army scouts.

  Before my time. Heard he was a great scout and a serious hunter. Bought himself a chunk of land at a foreclosure sale, cleared off the dilapidated buildings, built himself a solid little cabin. Lived off the land. Didn't really bother anyone."

  "Doesn't sound like much of a problem."

  "There wasn't a problem until recently. He respected the hunting regulations for the longest time, but lately he's been hunting, shall we say, out of season."

  "All right, so he's poaching. But realistically, how much can one man eat? An occasional deer or two shouldn't affect the balance of nature or be a threat to the ecology." A hint of sarcasm crept into Daniel's voice.

  MacBride flinched, but didn't respond to Daniel's tone. "Normally, I would agree. But he's taking more than one deer, every so often, to keep his larder full. There's no way he can possibly consume the amount of venison we estimate he's pulling out of here. We suspect he's supplying meat to vendors, probably high-end restaurants. He's Native American, enlisted in the Army, spent years as a tracker, a scout. The guy has incredible survival skills, that's for damned sure. Abigail has been on his latest trail for weeks, thought she finally had a strong lead—that's why she happened to be out here.