Misadventures of a Virgin

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by Meredith Wild


  There is nothing quiet about this. Nothing restorative. Sure, this is a definite break from the city scene, but these are not my people. I can rub shoulders with Hollywood’s rich and famous, but five minutes with this enlightened collective is sending me into a tailspin.

  I cut Indigo off before she can finish her intro speech, grab the check-in paperwork, and head out the front door a lot faster than I came through it. The journey from my Beamer to my room is mercifully short, although I’m not thrilled to be staying so close to the epicenter of this “quiet mountainside retreat.”

  I send up a tiny prayer of thanks that at least the room delivers. It’s all as advertised—clean, cozy, and spacious. After a quick tour of the room’s amenities, I peek out the window to see what or who is making the noise. A stream of apparently eager “residents” are filing into the main building. Yoga pants and head bands seem to be the uniform. I stare down at my outfit—torn jeans, a tight V-neck, and a pair of well-loved Chucks.

  Decidedly out of my element, I grab my key and the map of the property that I’d all but torn out of Indigo’s hand and head out. I walk briskly past the small crowd and keep moving until they are only a quiet murmur of activity behind me.

  The landscape here is different than anything I’m used to. I’d been an East Coast girl all my life, always working on my career, and—once we came out west—his career, so I rarely made it to the more scenic places in California.

  As I follow a wide, worn path that weaves into denser areas, my thoughts are loud. Doubt. Regret. Hopelessness. They shout and cling to me. If I walked into that orientation right now, I’d be wearing it all over me. I’d be a beacon of not belonging. That lost woman whose husband left her because she wasn’t the quintessential arm candy he needed her to be. The rejection and the pain feel like a big, ugly tattoo that no amount of time will ever be able to wear off.

  I push myself farther, vaguely noting the incline and the fine sheen of perspiration that beads on my skin as I go. Maybe Avalon Springs isn’t the haven I truly need. But I’ve come this far…

  Tears burn behind my eyes because I’m alone. So utterly alone.

  Clusters of pines hug the trail. Above the treetops, the sky is a majestic shade of purple. My thoughts quiet enough for me to realize that despite being well away from the retreat center now, night is coming on and I have no idea where I am or where I’m going. But the faint sound of water lures me forward.

  Beyond the trees is a clearing, a well of water at its center. Despite the cooler temperature at this elevation, steam swirls off the vibrant turquoise pool. I scale a smooth, round rock and test the temperature of the water with my fingertips. Perfect, like a freshly drawn bath.

  This must be the Avalon Springs. The retreat’s namesake promises healing properties from the mineral deposits that run off the nearby mountains. Rivulets of water trail off higher rocks and down into nature’s most perfect bath tub.

  After taking a quick glance around, I act. I strip my clothes and dip my naked toes into the water. Then, with care, I submerge my body. I let my head slip underwater, and my hair swirls like a thousand strands of silk around my bare shoulders. I groan with relief and bubbles float through the clear water to the surface. I take turns swimming and sinking my whole body deep into the water. The heat and the water, being unburdened of my clothes and all those heavy thoughts… Nothing has ever felt so good.

  My toes find the bottom, and I launch myself back to the surface when I need air. After a while I wade to a place where I can easily stand. My breasts hover just above the surface of the water. I pull myself onto a wide, flat rock that frames the pool and lie on it, unbothered that it’s both hard and cool against my skin. I’m warm and relaxed from my swim in the springs.

  I close my eyes, enjoying the simple sounds of water and birds and the isolation that I’d hiked all this way to find. I skim my hands over my skin, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I notice a faint pulse between my thighs. God, I’m strung so tight lately. So in need of release. Encouraged that my body is still paying attention to some of my basic needs, I touch and tease myself to a higher point of arousal.

  Getting close, I spread my thighs and dip a finger into my pussy while the other plays my clit like a record. Minutes pass as I deftly manipulate the places that ache for the attention of a man. And not just any man. One who won’t break me all over again. I don’t have one of those, so for now, my touch will have to do.

  My breathing ticks up with my pace. I’ve brought myself to this point a thousand times. I know just what to do. More times than not, though, the act leaves me feeling empty. Physically satisfied, but never emotionally. I don’t care. After the five-hour drive from the city, I need a release. I curve my fingers deeper into my pussy and graze the tips rhythmically across the rough pad of skin inside. The soft head of a man’s engorged cock would feel better there, but whatever.

  I lick my lips and imagine a man is pleasing me right now. Thick and brawny, passion in his eyes, he’s filling me with every inch of his silky cock. He’s telling me I’m beautiful, that I feel better than anyone he’s ever had. He’s grazing over that magic spot, over…and over…and…

  With a sharp inhale, I bow off the rock, so close, so ready. My heels and shoulder blades press hard against the rock. I release a cry that’s half arousal and half frustration, because the orgasm is just beyond reach.

  I open my eyes. Stars puncture the navy sky with tiny pinpricks of light. I glance back to the trail and push down a flash of worry that I might not be able to find my way back.

  Then I see him through the trees. And I scream.

  LUKE

  I’m not sure what possessed me to stop and watch her. She’d been loud enough marching up the path. Another city girl passing through the retreat at the base of the mountain, no doubt. I’d come here tonight to enjoy the springs because Saturday is their turnover day and the new residents rarely venture up past sunset.

  But the second this woman’s clothes hit the ground, I couldn’t move. I should have made my way back to my cabin up the mountainside, but instead I watched her swim and float like a goddess through the water. She had long brown hair that clung in a straight slick v down her back when she rose above the water, revealing possibly the most perfect set of breasts I’d ever seen on a woman.

  And then, with only a little guilt, I watched her slide up on that rock and plunge her slender fingers into her pussy until her cries echoed off the rocks and rendered the forest and my breathing silent. Now I’m hard, in absolutely no condition to comfortably return home. And I can’t in good conscience leave her up here as night quickly falls around us.

  When our eyes lock, she screams and slips back into the water to hide her nakedness. I adjust myself enough to disguise how her little display has affected me and walk closer.

  “Who are you?” Her voice is shaky with panic. She stares at me wide-eyed, probably contemplating if I’m going to do her any harm.

  At this hour, this far from the retreat, she is wise to worry. Nothing could protect her from someone of my size and skillset if I had malicious intentions.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I offer gently, hoping to ease her fears. “You’re out here pretty late. Do you know your way back?”

  She folds her arms over her chest, even though I can’t see anything under the water anyway.

  “I have a map.”

  I smirk and glance briefly at the pile of clothes she’d abandoned for the springs. “Yeah? Do you have a flashlight to read the map?”

  Grooves mark the space between her dark winged brows. Her eyes are stunning in their shape and intensity, even if I can’t place the precise color in the fading light.

  “I can take you back. Someone like you shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  Her frown deepens. “Someone like me?”

  “You’re at least a mile from the retreat. You have no supplies and no provisions. Someone without a healthy fear of the wild outdoors, at thi
s hour or any other, shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I don’t need rescuing, okay?”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Another asshole from the city with too much ego and not enough sense. “Let’s go. I’ll take you back.”

  Slowly she moves to the edge toward her clothes, never taking her eyes off me. “Look away, please.”

  I laugh. “I’ve seen a lot more than you’re about to show me.”

  Her eyes widened and her nostrils flare. Without another word, I turn casually to give her privacy that seems pointless after what I just witnessed. A minute later, the sound of her sneakers scraping against the rock prompts me to turn. She is fully dressed, and I allow myself a moment to appreciate her body with clothes on. Her jeans hug her thighs nicely, and her breasts look fuller in the tight shirt.

  I dislodge the thoughts around that assessment before my cock starts misbehaving again. I haven’t been with a woman in a long time, and even though I despise everything this one probably stands for, I can’t help that the beast in me wants to tear her clothes off and bury myself inside her until we both come. Repeatedly.

  I mutter a curse under my breath before turning and heading swiftly down the path.

  A few minutes pass and I don’t need to look back. I hear ragged breathing and branches cracking under her careful footing—signs she is struggling to keep up. She has no business in the woods. Why Lou and Vi keep luring these idiots to this beautiful place is beyond me. People like her will never belong here. They’ll never appreciate this place the way they should. A week in the mountains is a fashion statement for most of these people, and I just want them out of my woods and off my mountain so I can enjoy what I came here for. Solitude. Peace. A simple life. A quiet dip in the springs without some sexy little city girl cluttering up my thoughts with her sweet pussy…because I’m pretty sure it’s sweet, and oh so tight.

  I halt in my tracks and spin. The brunette nearly barrels into me. I catch her by the shoulders when she tips off balance. Somehow she feels smaller in my arms, just a little bit of flesh covering the delicate structure of her frame. Her wet hair dampens her shirt, drawing my attention to that lovely rack again. Goddamn, this woman is a distraction I didn’t ask for.

  “You can get there from here,” I say gruffly.

  Her eyes go wide again. “I can?”

  The moonlight glints on her skin. If she’d worn makeup, the springs had washed it away, leaving her natural and bare. She’s definitely pretty. A pert nose and a little bow of a mouth. There’s nothing exotic or stark about her features, but she’s someone who looks perfectly gorgeous with no effort.

  I release my hold on her and jab my thumb in the direction behind me. “It’s just a few yards down the path. You’ll see the lights, and they will lead you the rest of the way.”

  “Thank you,” she says softly, almost too softly to hear if not for the near silence of the woods at night. Gone is the tone she’d given me earlier. How she’d gone from rapture to claiming that she didn’t need rescuing, I didn’t know. But maybe that had been fear talking.

  I wince, because I don’t like the idea of being feared. I’d never hurt her, or anyone. Even if I didn’t want them in my woods. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “Yes, I do. You could have left me there, or…”

  “Or?” I lift an eyebrow, challenging her to say it out loud.

  True enough, I could have done all the things I couldn’t stop thinking about right now. I could have gotten myself between her silky thighs, plunged into her, stretched her pussy around me, and satisfied her in ways those pretty little fingers never would.

  But she doesn’t say any of that. She doesn’t say a word. She only gazes up at me, and for a second I wonder if she can read my thoughts, if somehow this unexpected depravity radiates off me. Then her hands slide up the front of my chest, and I almost forget how to breathe.

  “What’s your name?” Her voice is a whisper now, like she’s hiding from her own words.

  When had a woman touched me last? I can’t fucking breathe.

  “Good night.”

  I push past her, forcing my legs to move me back up the trail. I have to get the hell away from her.

  Continue reading Misadventures of a City Girl

  Chapter Two

  Madison

  What the hell was that? I asked him a simple question and he stalked off like a savage without so much as a response. He dismissed me like I was the one who’d intruded on his private moment, not the other way around.

  Fueled by anger, I make my way down the trail toward the main house, following the light just as he told me. My legs ache, the strain from the hike making each step feel like it may be my last.

  Leaning forward, I rest my hands on my knees, giving myself a moment to catch my breath. All I can think about is him—the sexy stranger who came out of nowhere and, although he’d watched me, hadn’t wanted to engage.

  The lights from the expansive windows spanning the back of the lodge illuminate the clearing only a dozen yards in front of me. Pushing off my knees, I propel myself forward to the only place I want to be—my room.

  I take a few steps and the memory of touching him stops me. Oh God. I touched him too. Why did I do that? Maybe I misread the look in his eyes before I slid my hand up the front of his chest. The hard muscles underneath my palm felt like steel. He brushed past me and disappeared like I’d offended him in some way.

  As I break through the brush and reach the clearing, I see Indigo standing on the wraparound wooden deck, staring off into space.

  When she spots me, she waves frantically. “Oh my God, Ms. Atwood! We were looking for you.”

  I climb the steps slowly and hold onto the railing to keep my balance. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

  “I almost sent out the search party when you weren’t in your room and didn’t show up at orientation.”

  “Sorry.” I’m not being sincere. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was go to an orientation. I came here to be alone and get away from it all. Not be surrounded by strangers and follow a schedule.

  “It’s okay. I made you an appointment with Vi tomorrow.” She smiles brightly, coming to my side when I finally make it to the main level. “She’s going to give you a private tour of the property. It’s very important to us that our guests have the best experience possible.”

  “Uh, thanks.” My lack of enthusiasm is evident in my voice, but when her smile fades I try to recover. “I appreciate you looking after me, Indigo.”

  She places her hand on my arm and gives it a light squeeze. “We’re only trying to help.”

  “I know. It’s just been a long day.”

  “Well,” she says filled with excitement, “I can make you a nice cup of cocoa to help you relax.”

  “No.” My refusal comes a little too fast, but I’ve hit my limit of happy people for today. “I just need a bath and some sleep. I appreciate the offer though. It’s very kind of you.”

  “All part of the job. If you change your mind, we’re going to be having a campfire starting around nine down there.” She motions to the right side of the clearing where a man is throwing logs into a pit and another is rearranging chairs in a circle. “Stop by maybe. It always helps me sleep.”

  I have a feeling that nothing has kept her up a night in her life. There’s a lightness to Indigo that I wish I could feel again. Something I’m sure I had in my youth, before reality slapped me in the face. “Night, Indigo.” I smile softly.

  “Night, Ms. Atwood. Sleep tight.”

  Restful sleep has eluded me since news of Jeremy’s infidelity graced every gossip rag in town. Some of the more serious news outlets even picked up the story, making the affair inescapable. The incessant phone calls and text messages had kept me awake and unable to move on from the heartbreak with the constant reminder of how I’d been wronged.

  After I make my way to my room and take a shower, I crawl under the covers and stare up at the ceilin
g. No matter how hard I try, sleep escapes me. The only thing I can think about is the mysterious man in the woods. The asshole who brushed me off. The one I wanted to touch again. What would his bare chest feel like against my palms?

  “Fuck.” I hiss and slam my hands against the mattress.

  I should be pissed at him for watching me, but remembering the look in his eyes when I caught him turns me on. No one has looked at me like that in ages. Living in LA does little for a woman’s ego. Girls barely out of high school are all the rage and everyone else is getting plastic surgery to look more youthful than they really are.

  But he looked at me with pure lust, the same way Jeremy did before he strayed. The mystery man may have stalked off, but I know that he wanted me in that moment. Feeling the familiar, dull ache between my legs, I reach under the covers and touch myself. My eyes seal shut and images of the handsome, mysterious man flood my mind.

  Something about his beauty… His eyes were hooded and rivaled the darkest night sky. Though his eyes were striking, his hair surprised me the most. The dirty blond streaks in his long wild hair matched the honey, tanned skin on his face. Even pulled back into a messy man bun, the look worked for him. His beard, something I’d never found attractive on a man, made his features more pronounced and impossibly more manly.

  Picking up where I left off in the springs, I pretend instead of my own fingers, he is pounding into me. There’s hunger in his eyes as he moans my name. He glides his rugged hands across my skin, scorching my flesh in their wake. I dig my heels into his ass, feeling the clench of his muscles with each pump. I’m unable to control my voice, my moans growing louder with each stroke.

  The orgasm that eluded me earlier hits me hard now. I cry out, working my fingers in and out while rubbing my palm against my clit. My muscles tense as the waves of pleasure crash over me repeatedly and my body twists to one side. When the final crest crashes down, my eyes fly open and I gasp for air.

 

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