by Kinley Grey
Mountain Menage
Part 1: Prologue
Kinley Grey
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Shades of Grey, The Art of Kinley Grey
Prologue
The dilapidated cabin huddled forlornly in the overgrown clearing, high in the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho. A trail had once led to its door, but years of long neglect eventually hid it from all but the sharpest eye. The area around the cabin was trashed with empty containers of coffee filters, cold medicine and drain cleaner and an eclectic variety of broken glassware including casserole dishes and crockpots.
A sharp, acrid smell had driven the animals away from the clearing earlier in the week. Lights flickered behind the covered windows, and wisps of smoke could be seen escaping from small chinks in the cabin as daylight faded and long shadows reached cool fingers across the mountainside. No birds were there to sing a final note before settling down for the night, and no creatures murmured softly to each other before curling up to sleep. The silence of the clearing was absolute.
Then the door of the cabin slammed open and two men in full face masks hurled themselves out. They'd only gotten a few feet away when an explosion rocked the quiet night. Both men were enveloped in the blast and screamed as their clothing and hair caught fire. One man picked himself up and ran without stopping, sparking tiny fires in the dry kindling in his wake. Finally he collapsed and bucked and screamed on the ground until the fire took his voice. After what seemed an eternity, he was still.
The other man was knocked down by the explosion and he stayed on the ground and rolled. He tore the mask from his face and slapped desperately at the flames that burned him alive. His slight frame shuddered to a stop across the clearing, the fires put out. The skin was nearly burned from his body, dirt and sticks clung to his raw flesh. He opened his eye slits and saw something that would have made him praise God had he been a believer. Right in front of him was their 4-wheeler, key still in the ignition.
Slowly, inexorably, he dragged himself onto the ATV. The raw palms of his hands made it difficult and he passed out from the pain once or twice. Eventually, he was in the seat and had the engine started. Squeezing the gas was almost more than he could bear, but he finally managed to get the 4-wheeler in motion. Not caring that he was leaving his hidden stash of crystal meth behind, he painstakingly turn the wheels towards the path. It was still at least seven miles down to the first ranger station and he clung to the slim hope he could make it that far.
Chapter 1
Heather sat in the front seat of the car and watched as the mountains loomed closer. She and Charlie were driving up to their old family cabin, Pine Bend, to air it out and get it ready for their parents.
“What do you want to do first, Heather? Maybe do a little sunbathing in the canoe? Your tan could definitely use some work.”
Heather looked over at him; saw the corners of his lip twitch as he failed to hide a smile. “Very funny. You think I'd trust you not to tip me out?”
Charlie smoothed his face and tried for an innocent look. “I don't know what you're talking about. And anyway, we didn't tip you out, you fell out.”
Heather wasn’t fooled. She noticed his flushed cheeks and thought back to that day four years ago. It was the summer right before her mom and Charlie’s dad split up; the last time they’d all been up at the cabin together. She'd rowed herself out to the middle of their smallish lake, intending to enjoy some reading and sunbathing before they went home the next morning. The sun was warm and she'd fallen asleep in the peacefully rocking small canoe.
A cold splash of water on her back startled her awake, and she sat up suddenly, forgetting she'd untied her string bikini top. Staring at her from where they were treading water were Charlie and James, his friend from the next cabin. She was fifteen and the boys were just a couple of years older.
“What the hell was that for?” she demanded, hands on her hips. She waited for a response, but realized they were both staring at her chest, open-mouthed. When she looked down she realized she was topless.
She'd been slow to develop compared to her friends, and this was the first year she'd had any breasts to speak of. Heather had been looking forward to showing off her new curves to James, who she'd had a crush on every summer for years, but not like this!
With a shriek she grabbed for her bikini top and tried to cover herself with a hand, losing her balance in the process and tipping precariously in the tiny boat. She grabbed for a handhold, uncovering herself again, her pale breasts the subject of everyone's full attention. Heather glanced up at James and saw him lick his lips. This was so humiliating.
The boat was still teetering and she gave up on a graceful recovery. Instead she jumped over the side, putting the boat between her and the two pairs of eyes. She clung to the side of the canoe and heard someone swimming around.
Please don't let it be James, she thought to herself.
It was Charlie. Her mom had married Charlie's dad when the kids were in middle school. They had a pretty typical sibling relationship: Charlie teased her relentlessly, and she embarrassed him in front of his friends as often as she could. They had good times too. He’d helped her talk their parents into pushing back her curfew for prom, and she’d covered for him a few times when he’d skipped football practice to hang out with his girlfriend.
Thank goodness it was Charlie that swam around the boat to her. His face was flushed and he was carefully keeping his eyes on her face. “Are you mad?” he said. “We just wondered if you wanted to go swimming with us.”
“You could still come,” said another voice behind her. She twirled in the water and saw James had circled around the other side of the boat. He was very near; she could feel the warmth of him through the cool water. Heather had never been this close to a guy while wearing so little and she felt her insides turn to butter. At least she didn’t have to wonder what he thought of the whole situation. He was still openly ogling her, trying to make something out through the murky lake water.
At her back, Charlie pulled himself up the side of the boat and fished out her bikini top. He handed it to her and said, “We won't watch while you put it on. Right, James?” There was no response, so he tried again more pointedly. “I said we won't watch. Right, James?”
“You said it, not me,” said James, turning his back anyway.
Heather quickly tied the neck and slipped the scanty piece of fabric over her head, but ran into trouble after that. She couldn't reach around behind her back to tie the other strings while holding onto the boat or treading water. She turned to her step-brother and touched his warm, sunlit shoulder.
He jumped at her cool touch and turned to face her. “Can you tie this for me?”
“Um, sure.” he said, uncertainly.
As she pivoted in the water to face away from him her hip brushed his groin. There was no mistaking his erection. He felt hard and hot against her, despite the chilly water.
“Eww,” she said, mind spinning.
She'd never thought of her step-brother like that before. Charlie was definitely built like a hunk. He'd spent the past couple of summers working as a lifeguard, so his chest and abs were ripped and tan. His dark hair was slightly overgrown, and his brown eyes below the shaggy bangs were piercing and direct.
She’d always known her big brother was hot, but he'd never stirred any feelings in her. He'd always just been Charlie. Now she was hyper-sensitive to the feel of his cool hands on her skin as he fumbled to find the strings of her bikini.
She shivered as his hands touched her sides and then reached around in front of her. She thou
ght she could see his fingers in the dark water, inches from her nipples. Heather had a sudden, irrational desire to arch her back and feel his hands on her firm breasts. Her tits ached and she couldn't tell if it was from desire or the cold water.
Heather thought she saw another pair of hands in the murk and was startled to look up and see James. He’d presumably seen Charlie’s trouble with the strings and come over to join the search.
“How is a girl in a bikini like a gun on a coffee table?” asked Charlie.
Someone's hands were below her breasts now, tracing the bottom of her suit to find the straps. Warm fingers brushed the lower part of her breast and Heather froze as she thought she felt someone caress her.
“How?” her voice came out like a croak. Charlie and James were so close to her she could barely breathe.
“How what?” asked Charlie, sounding as affected as she felt.
“It was your joke.” rebuked James. “Remember? The girl and the gun?”
“Oh yeah,” said Charlie. He finally tightened the knot and he sounded more like his normal self. “Do you have a guess?”
“They’re both smokin’ hot,” stated James with one last admiring look before he turned to swim for the shore.
Charlie started to swim away too, but he stopped and looked back at Heather, treading water for a long minute before giving his own answer.
“You can’t stop thinking about them.”
Chapter 2
Heather had wondered if Charlie ever still thought about the bikini incident. That summer had been the last time she’d really seen him in four years. When they got home from their trip he’d headed off for college and their parents had separated soon after. He still came over for dinner now and then or for a few hours on major holidays, but their parents’ separation was rough on the kids, and it made things awkward.
On the rare occasions she did see him, Charlie remained carefully distant from her, but sometimes she would look up and see him studying her almost wistfully. She felt a longing for him too, for the closeness they'd had when they were younger. “People grow up,” she told herself, and threw herself into her high school friends and activities.
For the next several years the families continued like this, but during Heather’s first year of college, her mom and Charlie’s dad had started seeing each other again. They were talking about moving back in together, and they insisted the family should spend a couple of weeks at the cabin like they used to. Mom's word was law, so days off were taken from jobs and classes. Charlie and Heather were able to get away a little early but since they could only get a week off work it was agreed they’d drive up one day ahead of their parents and air out the cabin.
“We're getting low on gas.” Charlie’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Do you think we're getting close to the old Maverick station?”
Heather glanced around, looking for landmarks. “I don't think it's too far. How low are we?”
“Oh, we've got a few miles left. We'll make it.”
He sounded more confident than she remembered him, and she studied Charlie's profile. His nose was straight and his jaw strong. He was wearing a close-fitting flannel shirt and faded jeans that hugged his ass and bulged slightly in front. She tore her eyes away before he noticed where she was looking. Instead she looked down his muscled arms to the large hands casually gripping the wheel and her stomach did a little flip flop. She hadn't been alone with Charlie since she could remember and she found his masculinity disconcerting.
It's just Charlie, she told herself. But it wasn't just Charlie any more. Despite the scattering of freckles he still had across his nose, she could see that he'd become a man.
A few other cars were parked in the lot of the old gas station when they pulled in. While Charlie filled the tank, Heather went inside to ask for the key to the bathroom.
“Someone else already took it around back. You can just get it from him when he comes out,” said the young, narrow-shouldered clerk with his baseball hat on backwards.
The area behind the station was secluded and quiet. A man leaned casually against the side of the building, a cigarette dangling from his lip and the bathroom key dangling from his pocket. He was lean and wiry but he looked strong, and Heather could see he was checking her out from beneath the brim of his hat.
He pushed back the hat and Heather saw the man hadn't shaved for a few days. The stubble looked good on him in a rugged way, and she licked her lips to ask him for the key. Then she met his eyes and froze beneath his gaze. The stranger had hard eyes, and they pinned her in place.
He flicked his cigarette away and took a step closer to her. Then another. Heather took a step back and realized she had backed into the dumpster. The smell turned her stomach, and the man had advanced until he was right in front of her, uncomfortably close.
“Well ain't you a tasty morsel,” he drawled. “Mind if I sample the goods?”
He didn't wait for an answer. Quick as a cobra his lips covered her mouth and his hips ground against hers. Heather pushed at his chest and struggled to get away from him, but it had all happened so fast and he was built like an iron rod. She could feel his erection against her abdomen. Definitely an iron rod. She squirmed against him, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest and he bit her lower lip and held it, staring a challenge into her eyes.
Heather's eyes glared back into his and she took a breath to scream, but he already sensed what she was going to do. He clapped a rough hand over her mouth and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I like a girl with some fight in her.”
Even though she knew she'd be scared later, right now Heather was pissed. How dare he? At that moment he pulled away slightly to get a hand under her shirt and she brought her knee up hard into his crotch with all the force of her anger. Without missing a beat she then stamped down on his instep with the heel of her boot.
“You little bitch!” he cursed, as she slipped out of his grasp and ran for the front of the store. She got back in the car as Charlie was tightening the gas cap. Heather couldn't believe the whole thing had happened so fast. She sat gasping for breath in the front seat, watching the corner of the store for the lean stranger. She instinctively knew which car in the lot belonged to him. Not the Camry or the old Chevy truck. It had to be the big black Ford pick-up with the naked woman silhouetted on the mudflaps. She wanted to get out of there, now.
Charlie was humming under his breath when he got back into the car. “Do you want a snack or anything?”
Heather shook her head, not trusting her voice, and Charlie pulled smoothly out of the lot. She used the passenger mirror to watch behind them but there was no sign of the stranger or his truck. She looked silently out the window as they drove, and jumped when Charlie put a hand on her thigh.
“You okay? You've been real quiet since the Maverick.”
“I'm fine,” she said, thinking about what had almost happened to her. Charlie's hand was warm on her leg through her jeans and somehow it made her feel better. “Just anxious to get to the cabin.”
Chapter 3
“Why the hell didn't you tell me?” Charlie shouted at her. They'd been at Pine Bend for less than an hour and Heather couldn't keep the secret any longer. She told herself the scene at the gas station hadn't been a big deal, but she couldn't get it out of her mind and was jumping at every little sound.
She decided she’d better tell Charlie so he could help her keep a watch out for the black pick-up. Heather hadn’t even gotten to the part about what kind of car the guy drove though. As soon as the words were out of her mouth Charlie had lost his temper.
“I'm going to find the asshole that put his hands on you and I'm gonna beat his fuckin' brains in.” Charlie headed for his Mazda.
Heather grabbed him by the wrist but he shook her off. She couldn't let him go back to the Maverick. Heather knew Charlie was strong, but he wasn't mean, and she knew without a doubt that the stranger would fight dirty.
She changed tactics. “Charlie, please don't
leave me alone here,” she said, with a break in her voice.
He froze, hands clenched at his sides. “I can't let him just get away with it. You should have told me back at the station so I could have...” Charlie turned to face her, and she was startled to see the depths of fury in his eyes.
“You're right. I should have told you. I'm so sorry.”
“You're not the one that should be sorry. I never should have let you go back there alone.”
“Listen to me, Charlie. We've been getting gas at that Maverick our whole lives and nothing has ever happened. There's no way you could have known.”
“Damn it, Heather. Stop making excuses and let me go look for that guy.”
“Just come in, Charlie. He won't still be there and I don't want to be alone.”
Heather needed to wash the feel of the man’s hands off her body. She got in the shower and turned the water on high. Hot water pelted down on her, and steam filled the air. She knew Charlie was just down the hall and the water felt good, but she kept thinking of the shower scene in Psycho and finally gave up on a relaxing shower.
She dried off and brushed her long brown hair before putting it in a loose bun on top of her head. Next she put on a pair of lace panties and a matching bra and used her towel to wipe the steam off the mirror so she could see herself. Not bad, she thought. She’d bought the underwear for the trip, telling herself it would come in handy when she went back to college in the fall. Now she sighed because she knew who she’d really bought it for, and she didn’t think she had the nerve to show it to him. Heather wrapped herself in a fluffy terry robe. Cool air whirled into the bathroom as she opened the door and went out.
Charlie had lit the lantern in the living room and was sitting in an armchair, watching through the big plate glass window as the moon slowly rose over the lake. The moon was full and bright, and Heather sat on the arm of his chair to watch. They sat quietly for a few minutes and then Charlie reached for her.
