by Tina Gayle
“No one. Cyd has a cabin down the road.” Stihl pointed off to the left. “He likes his privacy.”
A lovely house, she’d enjoy living in it. But she didn’t respond or give him an answer. The man, already cocky and self-assured, would only use the knowledge of her dreaming of living outside the city against her if he knew.
The brush of his lips caressed her neck, and the whisper of his breath teased her ear. “You’d love it, you know.”
She glanced to where he sat beside her on the grass. Her hands tightened around something. She checked them, but they were empty. “You’re playing with me.”
His hands slid over her skin.
“You’re projecting a scene in my head, but you’re trying to seduce my body.”
The wide smile on his face didn’t object to the truth. In fact, he appeared pleased with himself. “There are advantages to both reality and fantasy.”
She stared at him a moment then blinked. She narrowed her eyes to glare into his. The weight of him above her pressed home the difference between the two scenes. “I don’t live in a fantasy, Stihl. I know what I want.”
“Do you?” His gaze held an indeterminable glint.
“Stihl, I have things I have to do. I can’t afford the luxury of playing around.”
“As my mate, your only job is to make me happy.”
Marohka closed her eyes and shook her head. Instantly, she fell back into the scene at the meadow. Stihl now lay on top of her, raining kisses down her neck.
“I’m not your slave.”
The soft downy hair of his chest brushed against her breasts and enticed her to snuggle closer.
“No, you’re a very sexy woman, who’s afraid to trust her mate.” His words hit her like ice water. She didn’t trust him.
Why?
He’d cared for her after her fall from the alba-ox. What did he have to do to prove himself?
Scenes with her father flashed in her head. A cave-in at a mine, men needing help, the mine in trouble, every crisis required her attention—like the current problems with the Trisar Mine. Each time, she’d handled the crisis without incident. Yet, every time her father revoked the authority he’d given. Short term, he required her help, but long term, he refused to give her control.
“I’m not your father.”
“I didn’t say you were.” She wondered if the two men could be alike.
“Maybe not, but you’re comparing me to him.”
She punched him on the shoulder and stared into his face. “You’re reading my thoughts.”
“I have to use whatever advantage I can.”
The light from the window blinded her, and she adjusted her sight to stare into his face. The dark walls of the cabin framed his head. “Stihl, I’ll admit I’m having trouble trusting you.” She paused unsure how to continue.
“Why?”
“You’re not what I expected.” She placed her hands on both sides of his face. “You’re a kind, generous person, but I’m not what you need.”
“Shouldn’t I get to decide that?”
“No. I’m not the little woman who’d be happy being stuck at home. I want it all.” She slid her hands into his silky hair. “A career, a family, a man who can let me be strong, I’m not a passive person.”
“I’m not looking for a passive mate.”
“But don’t you see that’s what you need.”
“Why?”
Stunned by his question, she searched her mind for some of the characteristics he should have in a mate. A blank wall stared back.
He interrupted her thoughts. “No, that’s your idea of what I should have in a mate, not what I want.”
“I’m not a politician’s wife.”
“I’m not a politician.”
“I like to fight.” She struggled against him, trying to gain her freedom.
“I like to win.” He shifted her back beneath him.
“But, Stihl, we don’t mix.”
He slid lower and rubbed his cheek against her neck and chest. The rough texture of his beard sent tremors of awareness along her skin. “I don’t think so.”
His gaze heated, he turned his head to taste her nipple. His wet tongue danced over her flesh. A shiver ran through her, piecing the thin shield protecting her heart.
“I can’t bond with you.”
“You have to.” His lips circled the rosy peak and sucked her heated flesh into his mouth.
She gasped. “Why?”
The wild sensations running through the center of her body forced her eyes closed. Again a picture formed. In the same meadow, she strolled toward the house. A shadow stood on the front porch. She paused, but Stihl coaxed her closer by caressing her back with long, slow strokes. His hands slid lower, which pushed her forward. He surrounded her with his presence, not letting her vary from where he wanted her to go.
“Stihl, I . . .” she muttered, and his lips slid to her other breast. The picture in her head wavered.
His hot mouth poised over her, heat marked her skin. She tugged his head forward begging him to pull her flesh into his mouth. His hands on her waist seduced her back to the scene in her head. She caught sight of the person standing on the front porch. A woman stepped forward into the sunlight.
Her mind froze, shocked by the image of herself standing on the doorstep. She surged backward, reacting to the scene in her head. With a quick shift of position, Stihl drove his rod deep, which cleared everything but him from her mind.
He claimed her, not letting her deny the bliss he could give. She moved with him, giving, seeking, taking pleasure in all he offered. Her toes tingled with pleasure.
This time, when she saw him stand on the edge of the cliff, the dark abyss behind him, she let him draw her to his chest. “Come with me, starlight. Let me show you the light.”
Poised on the edge of completion, she stepped forward. Light filled her. A glow she couldn’t contain pulsed through her driving her over the cliff into the bright, luminous bliss beyond. She fell into the warm loving thoughts of their life together.
Floating for an iton, she rested on his chest. His hands caressed her back and butt. Her mind slowly returned to reality. Their bodies still connected, she nestled closer, and her energy slowly returned.
With each breath, the pressure of her world invaded her thoughts. She may have experienced the light with Stihl and shared a connection she’d never known before, but she had things to do. The problems at the mine were waiting.
Marohka lifted her head. His hands slid along her spine and stopped at her waist. He held her in place, not allowing her movement to uncouple them.
Drawing in a deep breath, she caught his unique scent and focused in on his face. His lids veiled his eyes. A wicked grin caressed his lips. His dimple teased her like on the night they’d met.
“Stihl, shouldn’t we leave?” she asked hastily so she couldn’t change her mind.
His eyes opened, the dark brown pools showing desire in their depths. “Yes, but first I’d like to make love to you again.” His hands slid lower. “But I promised Cyd we’d be at the mine by midday.”
He rolled over, carried her with him, and slipped from her body. His hand rubbed her cheek, and he placed a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’d much rather spend the day here with you.”
His heated gaze sizzled over her breasts, stomach, and thighs. Then he rolled out of bed and stood on the other side. “We have a little food left from last night.” He retrieved his pants.
She couldn’t help but notice his naked butt disappear under his clothing. Turning to retrieve the large shirt she had on earlier and her underwear, she glanced around the cabin. “Where are my clothes?”
The cough preceding his reply warned her about the unappealing answer. “I had to bury them.”
“What?” She whipped around.
Only half dressed, he stood, stoking the fire. “With alba-ox’s blood all over them, they stunk.” He turned. “So I buried them.”
Exposed wi
thout her clothes, Marohka clutched the large shirt against her chest. “But what am I supposed to wear?”
“My shirt.” He indicated the shirt in her hands. “And my coat. Cyd has the alba-oxen with our extra clothes, so we can change when we get there.”
He turned back to the fireplace.
“What about my new coat?”
“Gone.” Without even a glance over his shoulder, he continued with his task.
“And my shoes?”
“They’re here by the fire.” He pointed to where they sat by a chair.
Without another option, she slid on his shirt. Her clothes were gone. The poor alba-ox had lost more than clothes on the unplanned trip over the cliff. Stihl informed her of the animal’s demise. She grappled with a reason for the animal’s misstep. Not a hole or crevice marred the path where it could’ve stumbled. At least, not one she remembered seeing.
Dressed in his oversized shirt, she walked to the fireplace. In amazement, she watched him stir a pot positioned above a fire. Flames danced beneath it. “I’ve never seen anyone who cooked with fire.”
“It’s a skill my grandfather taught me. Growing up in the outback of Lustralia, we lacked a food simulator out where we lived.” Stihl pulled the pot a safe distance away from the heat. “This should hold us for a while.
“We only have one plate.” He dished out a portion of the food onto a small piece of tin. “You can have it. I’ll eat out of the pot.”
Brown gravy ran across the plate with chunks of vegetables and meat sprinkled among it. Marohka poked at each item with her fork. She sampled a small bite. “What are we having?”
“Outback stew. It’s made with whatever you have on hand. I found a few provisions and threw them together. I didn’t examine too hard what they were.” Stihl lifted his spoon. “After you eat, we’ll clean up and get going.”
She glanced around the cabin. With only a few chairs by the fire and a bed against the far wall, the room appeared almost empty. Settling down on a hard chair, she forced herself to eat. Stihl stood by the fire without taking a seat. He appeared lost in his own world. She wondered about his thoughts. Did he regret making love to her?
Her eyes fell on her left hand. The pattern appeared darker and more intricate. With a quick peek at her right hand, she noticed her design had changed slightly. What completed the process?
“We should be at the camp in a few zitons.” He poured water from a bucket and rinsed out the pot and his spoon. “If you’re finished, we’ll head out.” He retrieved her plate, and she picked up her shoe. He rinsed off her items and then set them on the hearth to dry. Once finished, he dumped the extra water on the fire.
The room lost its warm glow, turning dark and shabby. The only source of light now glowed from the dirty window by the door. She quickly slid her foot into her other shoe, not wanting to stay here any longer. Everything around her suddenly lost its luster. She stood and started for the door.
Stihl followed. “You’ll need to wear this. Even though it’s early spring, it can still get cold in the canyon.”
She peeked over her shoulder. He held a long knee-length coat. The long heavy coat would swallow her once she slipped it over her shoulders.
“It should help keep you warm until we arrive at the camp.”
Walking to him, she searched his face for some sign of his feelings. Did he truly care for her, the way she was beginning to care for him? His gaze revealed nothing. She turned. He placed the coat on her shoulders. Would he take care of anyone the way he had her? Or was she special?
The answers mattered.
* * * *
Stihl sat behind Marohka on the back of the alba-oxen. He surveyed the land and the large webbed trees around them. Many dangers lurked in the shadows in this part of the country.
The area appeared harmless, but early spring rains could start water avalanches. The tall water wall over ten leg-lengths high could start down the mountains without warning. Composed of a mixture of melting snow, overflow runoffs from high-level lakes, and a waterspout of rain, once in the wall’s path, most things didn’t survive. Traveling over a small log bridge, he checked the rapid current of the creek. He rushed their mount along the trail away from the potential problem.
Animal tracks dotted the area, but there were no recent signs of predators lurking nearby. He checked the terrain ahead then glanced at Marohka’s hands on the reins. He’d noticed her studying her mark after they made love. She believed the bright symbol meant she could escape. In truth, the mark wouldn’t fully merge with his until she carried his child.
He smiled.
She wiggled.
Her thoughts flashed in his head. Her green gaze sparked with anger under a yellow mining hat. Men worked in dark shadows around her.
He disliked her worrying about what lay ahead of them at the mining camp. He wanted her attention centered on him alone. The lady might think she had options, but he refused to allow her any means to slip away. Not now, not ever. The reason for bonding with her had changed. Before they’d shared the light of fulfillment, he needed her to meet his father’s requirements for his inheritance. Now, he craved her for himself.
She needed him in a way he found addictive, mainly because she didn’t judge him like everyone else in his family. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It no longer matter why he wanted her. He just did.
“Stihl, how much farther until we get to the camp?”
“Not long.”
“Is it over a ziton away?”
“Maybe two.”
“Do you think Cyd has made it there already?”
“Yes.” Stihl had no desire to talk.
The wind blew against his bare back, and Marohka shivered. He hugged her tighter against his chest using his body heat and seductive ideas to warm her. She snuggled deeper into his embrace. He released the reins, and she led their mount. He directed her thoughts away from the mine. He raised the heat in her system with a more sensual need by implanting pictures in her head.
* * * *
Erotic images played through Marohka’s head. She struggled with the idea of making love on the back of an alba-ox while riding through the outback landscape.
Stihl sat nestled tight behind her, his thick thighs squeezing her legs where she rested between them. His warm body hugged hers. His arms circled her waist. Her mind stretch a little farther and conjured up sensuous pictures. The sway of their alba-ox’s step rocked her against him, which made her hot and needy.
Images of them together kept flashing through her memory. The problems at the mine unable to divert her thoughts, pictures of them making love sped through her mind. She shifted in the saddle to ease the tension in her lower body. Maybe, they should’ve never made love. But in reality, she wished they’d do it again.
His strong hands slid from the saddle horn to her thighs. Words whispered passed her ear. “You want me inside you.”
She remained quiet for fear of shattering the fantasy. She imagined the kiss on the side of her neck, but she tilted her head to give him easier access anyway. His hand slithered along the opening of her coat, and the reins in her hands slipped. A cold hand stroked her warm thigh, but she voiced no objection. With an arm around her waist, he hugged her tighter. His thick erection pressed against her lower back.
Naughty fingers slid teasingly close to the hot wet space between her legs. A moan escaped her lips. She wanted him to touch her, hungered for it more than she ever imagined possible. She shifted her leg and tried to direct his actions.
“Stihl, please . . .” She begged him to ease the throbbing low in the center of her being. She longed to guide his movements and loosened her grip. He needed to finish what he’d started.
“No, keep your hands on the reins.” One hand covered both of hers.
She obeyed and gripped the reins tighter. His fingers, teasing her with featherlight touches, edged slowly toward their target.
* * * *
Stihl loved the way she wiggled and s
quirmed. He tempted, teased, and stroked her through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her breast hugged his arm. He yearned to drive her to the edge of bliss and have her explode in his arms.
He slid his hand over her stomach to the waistband of her underwear. She trembled. With slow, tantalizing steps, he walked his fingers through the curly hair lying between her legs and touched the center of her heat.
Her hips arched. Each stroke ignited a flame. The sweet scent of her body combined with her soft moans of rapture lit a fire in his loins. Her colorful hair caressed his check. The frantic beat of her pulse lay just under the skin of her neck. He danced his tongue repeatedly over erratic rhythm.
