by Anthology
Thunder boomed in my ears, and I crashed to the ground.
* * *
I woke up to near darkness. A storm rumbled outside—outside, which meant I was inside—inside on a couch. Pillows propped up my head as fire popped and hissed nearby. Rain tinkling against metal reminded me of back home with my grandparents, their farmhouse outside of town with its green metal roof.
“Granny?”
“You’re safe here.” A masculine voice assured me, but the nearness of it startled my eyes open. A man’s shadow hovered over me in the dark.
“Where am I?”
“In my cabin in Juniper Forrest.”
I remembered traveling to Juniper. I shivered as a cold draft rushed me around the edges. It took me a second to register the quilt over my naked body. “Why am I naked?” I complained.
“You’ve lost some blood. You were shot,” the shadow told me, but in a tone like it was a completely normal thing to have happened.
“Shot?” I tried to sit up, but my naked body stuck to the leather couch. I strained a bit harder and could feel the tight bandage restraining my arm. The pain—I remembered the pain I’d experienced in the woods, but it felt like a distant memory. I’d been given something. My mind tried to wrap around the fact that I’d really been shot and failed. “How,” I started.
“I have my ways.”
“No, I mean, why did someone shoot me,” I sounded like I was on drugs.
“Oh. Damn poachers. They ran off.”
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the room in front of me began to take shape. Opposite of me, a fireplace with a simple carved wood mantle sat in between a couple of overstuffed chairs. Other than the couch I sat on, there wasn’t much else. A real crack of thunder sounded as the storm shook the window, and I realized the thunder I’d heard earlier had been a gunshot. My groggy mind tried to process all of this. It wanted to question why I was here instead of in a hospital as I turned my attention back to the room, but the feeling of being watched crept across my skin. My peripheral vision detected the man’s attentions focused on me. The fire behind him cast a shadow that hid his features. Carefully holding the quilt to keep my modesty, I finally managed to sit all the way up, but I couldn’t see him any clearer. “How long have I been out?”
“A day or so.”
“A day or so,” I sounded like a whiny echo.
Repelled by my outburst, the man backed away. His bulky form now occupied one of the overstuffed chairs next to the roaring fire. Despite his refined accent, he dressed like I’d imagine the hunters in this town did, in worn jeans and a flannel button down. It was fall, after all. He held his steepled fingers to his chin, watching me like I might do something interesting.
“Why am I here, exactly?”
“Would you rather be still lying in the woods?”
I started to shrug but realized doing so would hurt like hell and drop the blanket. “Where are my clothes?”
He leaned forward, and I gazed into the most gorgeous green eyes I’d ever seen. I blinked to make sure it wasn’t just the medication. Maybe, maybe not, but his eyes stood out in the flickering firelight. Perfectly shaped and under long thick lashes, they seemed eerily familiar. A memory of seeing them before floated over me, giving me chills.
“Ruined,” he said simply before he went to stoke the fire. The room brightened for a moment showing me a glimpse of his long hair, pulled back at the nape of his neck.
His back to me, I continued to talk. “Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?” Or call the police? I thought, but something kept me from saying it.
“In Juniper? You’re better off here. Plus, it’s come a bad storm and we’re miles away from town.”
“You live in the woods?... By yourself?”
“I like the solitude.”
I wanted to ask his name since it seemed like the next step as my list of questions multiplied in my head, but he spoke first. “Now I have a question for you, Katrina. What were you doing in these woods?” His tone was accusatory. “There are no trespassing signs posted.”
If I could have balked I would have. “Just strolling, practicing my monologue.”
“Don’t tell me you were about to perform at Freddie’s.”
“Yeah, I was.”
The man hovered near me again. Again, he caught my gaze and held it. The fire lit up his face this time. Emerald crystal’s surrounded his pupils. His stare was intense. Sexy and familiar, like I knew his handsome face—from somewhere.
“Okay, let me hear it.”
“Hear what?” I’d forgotten what we were talking about.
“Your act.”
All those bees buzzed in my belly, reminding me why I was in the woods to begin with. “No, I’m not in the mood.”
His beautiful eyes narrowed.
“I’ve been shot,” I said in my defense. Why did he want to hear my act at a time like this?
“A lot of people,” he stressed the word people, “creep around these woods.”
I fell silent for a moment, trying to understand. “Don’t you believe me?”
He didn’t answer but sat beside me on the couch now that there was room for him. He went straight for my bandaged shoulder. I jumped at first, but he was just checking it. I let him, holding the quilt tight around my breasts. For the first time, I became keenly aware of the fact that he’d seen me naked and had gotten me naked. Maybe it was the drugs or me being thankful to be alive—thankful to the man who’d obviously saved me, because I was all turned on by this guy’s presence. His musky, manly spicy smell, his warm hands brushing my shoulder had me thinking of nuzzling into his arms.
Okay, you’re looking for comfort. You’ve been shot. You’re drugged up and naked for fuck’s sake and shouldn’t be thinking about grabbing a handful of this man’s gorgeous hair and plunging your lips onto his. He’s a goddamn stranger.
For a millisecond I’d been fantasizing about a man I should most likely fear. I knew nothing about him. He could be anyone, stunning eyes or not. Sure, lots of normal people like to live alone, way out in the woods, miles from town. People who like to hunt and hike. Men who like to kill things, gut them and eat them. Anyone—like a crazy recluse… cannibal. I imagined him boiling a big witch’s kettle on the fire. Inside I stewed, chomping a carrot like in an old Bugs Bunny cartoon.
After all, nobody knew I’d come to Juniper for open mic night. Not to mention, no one would even realize I was missing for a couple of days. Milly was gone to the Bahamas with her new husband. I talked to my parents and my sister maybe once a month, tops. I was in between jobs, living off of an unemployment check and trying to find myself after the worst break up of my life. Even poor Miss. Pants, my chow had died of old age back in June.
“What are you doing out here?” I wanted answers.
“I live here.”
“I mean, why. Why live in the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere.”
“Out in the woods in Juniper, you mean. I like my privacy. I like to work with my hands, survive on my own.”
So, he was a recluse. “Doesn’t it get lonely.”
“Yes,” was all he said, but the force of his yes made me return to fantasizing.
“It’s late. A quarter past one. I should get some sleep.” I didn’t know if he sensed my condition, but his words sounded like a rejection as he shoved a lukewarm cup of tea into my hands. As he stood up to leave, lightning struck somewhere in the distance, lighting up the room, and I could see all of him a little more clearly. He was deliciously everything a man should be. “I’ll just be upstairs if you need me.”
“I didn’t even get your name. I don’t even know who to thank.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know who I am,” he said. And he was gone
Okay, psycho much? Maybe he was a crazy recluse.
Confused as hell, I brought the tea to my lips and tasted sweet chamomile. A recluse with chamomile tea on hand? And how the hell was I supposed to know who he was?
After I finished the tea, I passed out but woke up too soon. It was still pitch black outside. I was still naked under a quilt, my ass annoyingly glued to the leather. Where was my phone? I’d been too enthralled with my strange rescuer to ask. Or maybe I’d been too high. I tried to settle back down. It was hard enough to sleep in a strange place, add a gunshot wound to the shoulder and it was damn near impossible. I spent most of the night in between sleep and listening the wind moan, the rain splattering on the window, the smoldering fire popping every once in a while, and sometimes there’d be a creak, the sound of the old house settling I assumed. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew I should be more upset about my situation.
Who gets shot in the woods and wakes up in some strange place with some strange man who’d given you some strange drugs and hadn’t taken you to the hospital but was okay with it?
Above me, I heard the floorboards squeak. Whoever this man was, he was awake. Would he come down? Should I pretend to sleep if he does? I heard a toilet flush, simultaneously felt the tea had gone right through me and thanked the Lord there was running water in this place. Carefully, I peeled myself from the couch to find this bathroom. My legs wobbled when I stood, but I managed to make it to the stairs. Clutching the railing, I steadied myself on the way up. Luckily my rescuer left a candle burning, shining like a beacon from the bathroom. I felt the wall in the small room wondering if there was electricity. I found a switch, flipped it up, but nothing happened. Maybe the electricity had gone out in the storm.
After I’d relieved myself, I stumbled out into the hall only to see him—all six-foot whatever of him. I wasn’t sure I’d discerned before just how large he truly was. Without a shirt and up close, he seemed even taller and broader. I had to glance up just to see his face. On the way up, I noted the many muscles of his bare torso. When I reached his face, a wolfish grin screamed that he’d caught me. I sort of stumbled forward, right into his rock hard abs. He actually caught me, and my good hand instinctively roamed, wanting to feel his smooth chest, then discovering his strong arm muscles, holding me up, his slender waist and firm tight butt.
My hand squeezed this strange man’s butt.
“Katrina,” he bayed.
“Call me, Kat.”
Just as I was about to apologize, his arms encircled my waist. With seemingly superhuman strength, he lifted me clear up. He let out a predatory chuckle into my bad shoulder. “You should be resting.”
Although jarred, my shoulder didn’t hurt much at all. It was then I realized, I’d left the quilt behind. Distracted by the thought of being under the influence, I let him carry me into his room.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked too late.
“My bed.”
I found myself reconsidering the wisdom of being naked and vulnerable with someone who’d plucked me out of the woods as he tossed me onto the mattress. In the soft candlelight, the nameless man observed me again. He stared at me like he hadn’t seen a woman in a long time. His green eyes bored into me, not asking permission but letting me know there was no backing out. I waited on pins and needles for him to join me, jump and land on me and have his way. Something in me yearned for it. I ran my hand along the swell of my breasts, down the curves of my stomach and hips, brushing my fingertips over the soft hair of my lady parts. He grabbed my ankle and deliberately spread my legs apart. I remembered, I hadn’t waxed since Mike left me, but I couldn’t muster the energy to care. I did notice, however, while I was very naked and spread out for him to see, this sexy man still had on his pajama pants.
Without a word, the man’s lips landed on the sole of my foot, tickling it as he kissed. My eyes closed as I relished the sensation. My feet were sensitive, and no man had ever taken the time to kiss them. Maybe this was all a dream, and I was still in the woods. As I was lost, his furry lips lazily capered all the way up my leg, his warm breath and scratchy beard climbing higher and higher up my thigh until his tongue was in my slit, whirling around.
Oh boy! This was no dream. I twisted and squirmed, wrapping my legs around his head as heat flamed my cheeks. Grabbing my hips, he held me still as he beat my clit with his tongue. I wanted more—needed more. Somehow sensing it wasn’t enough, he stabbed his fingers into my hot core as he flicked his tongue harder. I came hard, like only a woman who’d not been with a man since her ex dumped her six months ago could.
The recluse disappeared.
Exhausted, I couldn’t move, so I fell asleep in his bed.
* * *
Everything looked much different in the morning light. I was naked-in some strange man’s bed. My arm was stiff. Fuck, my shoulder was killing me.
I remembered why I was in this bed.
This was bad.
But on a brighter note, I smelled bacon frying downstairs. My stomach rumbled. Seeing his chest of drawers, I did what the stranger had not and went to find me some clothes. Everything was huge. I drew out a big pair of boxers, unfolded them and held them against my frame. My whole body could fit in one of the legs. Hauling on the Star Wars T-shirt that could be a dress on me with a bandaged shoulder was pretty difficult, but I managed. Being braless was uncomfortable enough, I didn’t want to be bottomless too. A too baggy pair of red sweatpants would have to do. I tied them at my waist as tight as I could but looked like I was wearing a deflated hot air balloon. After grimacing at my reflection, I tiptoed down the stairs to find him.
As suspected, he was busily chopping up something in the kitchen. This man looked even more glorious bathed in the sunlight that flooded in the big windows, wrapped around the kitchen. His back to me, he was still shirtless. His longish, dark blonde hair was down, brushing the top of his beautiful broad back full of muscles. The only thing he wore was a pair of cotton pajama bottoms, cartoon cats. The radio tuned to a classic rock station played Lynyrd Skynyrd or something. Although I tiptoed and tried to be as quiet as a mouse, he’d heard me and whipped around with the frying pan in his hand.
“Good morning,” I sputtered, surprised by his sudden move.
I got my first good, in proper lighting, look at the man.
He was a piece of sex.
No wonder I’d been effected, even in the dark. His lips curled up, revealing an eloquent smile, and I totally gave myself a pass. I didn’t know if any woman in her right mind could resist this man’s charm.
“It’s good to see you up,” he said, his voice still strangely comforting and sounding decidedly more English than it had last night.
“I even found some clothes.”
“I prefer you naked.” He winked, and a tingle of last night’s orgasm ran up my spine.
Mentally fanning myself, I looked anywhere but at him. Glancing around, I noticed this wasn’t a shabby shack at all. Yes, this was a cabin in the woods, but it was damn nice for a cabin. The man had better appliances than I had in my kitchen back home, all stainless steel and new. “What did you say your name was again?”
He squinted and stroked his beard. “You really don’t know me?”
“No.” It was hard to admit considering what we’d done last night or what he’d done to me. “Why would I know you?” Clearly there was something I wasn’t getting, something important I was missing. “And, how do you know me? Where’s my phone, my keys?” My purse had been locked in my car that was parked two blocks from Freddie’s bar. I’d put my I.D., some cash and my keys in the pocket of my jeans and had my cell phone on me, of course.
He pointed to my phone, a crumpled fifty and my keys sitting on the counter. “Out of charge and an old model, so my charger’s not compatible.
“Where’s my license?”
“I found no identification. I called your phone support and gave them your serial number. They gave me your name.”
“So you called Apple but not the police or an ambulance?
“What can I say? I’m resourceful.”
“They aren’t supposed to give that information out, I’m sure.”
“I have my ways.”
I was sure he did. A man who looked like him probably got anything he wanted. Then another thought hit me. “You have a phone.”
“Of course, I have a phone.”
It hadn’t been a question. I thought of calling Milly and giving her a piece of my mind. Go for it, she’d suggested—look what that had gotten me into. Shot. A one-night stand-sort of-with a gorgeous stranger. Two things that had never happened to me before.
Who didn’t have a life now?
The nameless man turned around and continue cooking. “You like omelets?”
“Sure.” I sat at the table as he placed breakfast in front of me, a wonderful cheese omelet with bacon. Already on the table sat a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea, when I craved coffee.
He sat across from me. “Dig in.”
“You’re not eating.” I noticed he was drinking-what I assumed was a Bloody Mary.
“I never eat much this early.”
“Nice breakfast,” I said, as a way of thank you before taking a bite.
“You need to eat. You’re still recovering. Plus, you need your strength.” The way he’d said the last part was suggestive, sexually suggestive, like last night had only been the beginning.
I swallowed as the gorgeous man’s eyes roamed my body. “Do you always rescue chicks from the woods?”
“No, they usually come knocking on my door though.”
“All the way out here?”
“I could’ve sworn you were a reporter.” The way he’d said it, I could tell he didn’t like them. “Haven’t I seen you, on E! Entertainment?”
“You thought I was a reporter and was going to let me die on your couch,” I lamented.
“You wouldn’t have died. The bullet only nicked your shoulder. I stitched you up,” he said, like he’d only put on a Band-Aid.
So, there hadn’t been a bullet lodged in my shoulder. That was a relief. I remembered my manners. “Thank you, but I’ll be needing to use your phone.”
“Oh, no. You have to stay a few days more. Stay the day at least.”
“I have to get back to my life. I’m sure—somebody—is worried about me,” I stumbled over my words because I really didn’t know who’d be worried about me with everyone being out of touch and all.
