by Tia Siren
She glowers, like I knew she would. Good. “I lost my backpack in the landslide,” she informs me hotly. Then she adds, “It could have happened to anyone.”
“It could only have happened to someone walking in that mess.”
“You were out there, too.”
“I could hear you yelling,” I counter readily, heart pumping. She’s not going to turn this around on me. I’m going to push her away, and she’s not going to pull me back. I don’t know why my instinct is to fight with her. I don’t want to want her; I know that.
But she doesn’t raise her voice and volley a comeback in my direction.
She just blinks up at me, her gaze even and true, then says, “You’re freezing.” With those prompt words, she stands and saunters over to the brush I laid out to dry. She tests it with her fingers and grimaces. “Still pretty damp.” She doesn’t turn toward me, just stands there, peering down at the brush, then says, “I had a little notepad. It might not be totally soaked.”
She bends over to hunt in her soaked pants and pulls out a black notepad, the size of her palm, half-drenched and half-dry. She rips the dry pages out and crumbles them into balls. “Do you have a lighter?” she wonders.
I grin, suddenly loving her. How did she just save the fucking day? “Yes, I do.”
There is enough dry debris at the cave entrance to fill a fire pit, and I see her thinking the same thing as she stoops and dusts off gnarled dead leaves and small dry on the cave floor. It’s not much, but it might be enough to sufficiently catch all that drying brush aflame. The fire will still be small but a small fire is better than none at all.
We build it together, and I stick my lighter down into her crumbled notepad pages, setting them on fire. Warm yellow light spills over the cave walls, throwing all the rocks and debris into view now. Outside, the rain slows, and the world through that little slit in the wall seems like another dimension entirely. Night falls outside the mouth of the cave but in here, we have light. In here, we have warmth. We can forget about the world out there for a few hours. We won’t make Diamond Lake anyway. That’s an adventure for tomorrow.
“I have to get out of these clothes,” I tell Morgan, stepping away from her. I expect her to recoil, to be mildly alarmed, the same way she was when I told her to take off her clothes. But she just stares at me expectantly. “I’m going to wrap up in the blanket.”
She nods.
“Could you avert your eyes?” I wonder incredulously, and she jolts, blushing and casting her eyes away.
I strip away the clammy plaid shirt, and it feels good to drop its cold, heavy weight from my body at last. I shuck the pants just the same, relishing the chill cave air outside the peripheral of the fire. It’s better than the wet clothes. I tuck my thumbs into my cloying boxer-briefs, preparing to strip them down my ass and yank the large sleeping bag from my pack but my eyes flick to Morgan’s, as if I can feel her gaze on my body.
She blinks hard and her eyes snap away from me. “Sorry,” she breathes, wrapping her arms around herself. “I wasn’t thinking.”
I smile a little bit to myself and pull down the boxer-briefs. “No offense taken,” I tell her, unraveling the red nylon sleeping bag and unzipping it, then wrapping it around my body. God, this feels toasty warm.
I settle at the fire and my eyes fall back onto Morgan. Our fire is small and the light only touches her face and torso. Her back and her ass must be freezing with only my thermal underwear to protect her nerves from the elements, and I’m moved by sympathy.
“You can share the sleeping bag with me,” I tell her. “I’m naked, but, like you said, it could have happened to anybody.”
Morgan’s eyes rove my face for a moment, perhaps scanning for any trace of untrustworthiness. Then she says, “All right,” almost in a sigh of resignation, and stands, ambling over to my side of our tiny campfire.
“You don’t have to,” I tell her with a little laugh, amused by her begrudging expression.
“It’s not that.” She settles beside me and I open the blanket, enveloping her in its warmth. For a moment, I can feel the halo of cold wreathing her foreign body, feel that she has invaded my little cocoon, but then, within seconds, the chill melts off her and the warmth of my body and my blanket neutralize her coldness. “God, that feels good,” she purrs, eyelashes fluttering closed with an expression of sensual rapture.
Not now, I warn my dick. You think about prime numbers.
“We’d be even warmer if you took off your clothes, too,” I volunteer, cursing my dick. He’s gotten control of my brain. “That is a fact,” I add with a nod.
Morgan gives me a look and I bite my lower lip. Okay, no naked cuddling. Got it.
“Or we could just lay down and try to get some sleep,” I revise my previous sentiment.
“Good idea,” Morgan says, grinning up at me, and then, as we settle back against the rocks, haloed in the light of the campfire, she does the most amazing little thing: she curls into my side and tucks one hand neatly around my back.
Her touch sends tingles down my abs and into my cock, stirring him back to life. Fuuuck. And I’m naked now. There are no pants to disguise my erection anymore. It’s going to stab her in the belly button, probably. What did she expect, cuddling up like that? Putting a hand on me like that?
My manhood brushes the insides of her thighs, alerting her that he is awake.
I gape down at her, not trying to look as surprised as I probably do, but she shrinks away, retracting her hand. My cock gets cold again.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” she breathes. “I’m sorry. It was just…”
“Habit? Instinct?”
“No,” she spits, staying decidedly on her half of the blanket, ruining the effect of our body heat. “I’ll sleep over here.”
“You think my hard-on can’t reach you?” I tease.
Her cheeks darken, and she bristles wordlessly.
“I’m teasing you,” I promise her. “I can’t help what he does. I’m naked and trapped under a blanket with this… you know.”
“Bookish babe?” she suggests, sounding sarcastic.
“Bookish babe,” I agree wholeheartedly. “But I won’t touch you. Scout’s honor.”
The blanket still gaps open like a tent between our bodies, and I can see every shadowy inch of her, just as she can see every shadowy inch of me—including the vague shape of my cock, hanging in mid-air like a fucking antenna, searching for her signal.
I track her eyes as they trace over my body, focusing on my prick. Blood flows to my cheeks, and more blood pumps into my dick, too. It strengthens into its final form, a bulging, merciless staff. I feel it pound with the beat of my heart.
“Abstinence is a two-way street, you know,” I remind her, and her eyes flash away from my body.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I was just—I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing that! You’re right.” She tucks the blanket around herself and seals our bodies from each other’s view. I do the same and now we’re peering at each other like friends at summer camp, squeezed into a sleeping bag that is too small for both of us, acting like this is all totally normal.
3
Morgan
I know I’m not going to sleep. My whole body aches with exhaustion, with bruises and scrapes, but I can’t sleep. I’m humming like an electric generator under this blanket. I’m wide-awake. I’m lying next to this blue-eyed devil, with the colorful arm piece and the mysterious chest scar and an erection the size of an anaconda. He’s not asleep, either.
“So,” I breathe, trying to think of anything to say that isn’t about what I’m thinking about right now: his hand buried between my legs, diligently pumping me toward orgasm. “You never told me what you’re doing on Blackridge Mountain.”
A soft, almost mournful smile touches Kai’s lips, and he traces one thick fingertip over the rope of jagged scar streaked from the side of his left nipple to the lower portion of his ribcage. I shamelessly watch it
go. God, his chest. I force myself to focus on his story, even though he makes me feel the way I imagine most men feel about most women: I want to play with his body and just make him come. It’s dominating my thoughts.
“I went backpacking on my birthday four years ago,” Kai explains, and I tuck in for a wild story, my eyes fastened to his. “I went with my three best friends. I was really depressed at the time. I’d just gotten out of the military and I felt… adrift.”
“PTSD?” I whisper.
“Ennui,” Kai replies, and a single butterfly flutters in my belly. He likes good words, too. “They wanted to cheer me up, and we had a party, and we made the elementary mistake of leaving our food out. We had all been drinking and just dropped the ball totally.”
“Oh my god.” I know enough about Blackridge Mountain from writing the Untamed series to be able to tell you that bears have an incredibly sensitive olfactory system. Leaving food out runs the very real risk of attracting bears straight to your tent. “What happened?”
“Black bear,” Kai answers shortly, like he’s told the story a million times. But I’m also sure he hasn’t. He’s just pretending that he has. “It went after me first, pulling me out of the tent. We were all deeply asleep and nobody heard it. I didn’t even wake up until I was outside, and he started tossing me around to see if I would fight back. You need to fight black bears. They won’t fight to the death. So, I made it clear that I was willing to fight to the death. He bit me and threw me and clawed me… but I never stayed down. I always got back up. Fucking swinging.”
“Oh my god,” I repeat, stretching out a hand and mindlessly roving his scar with my fingers. I keep forgetting that his body isn’t mine to take, that we don’t know each other like that, and I draw my hand back, reconsidering. “May I?” I ask, and he nods.
I let my fingertips roll over the braid of his scarred flesh, mesmerized.
“I made it clear that I was willing to fight to the death.”
“That’s so inspiring,” I tell him. His skin is warm and soft, totally dry now. My fingers skate over his pectorals and I briefly forget that I’m inspecting the wound, not his general physique. “What about your friends? Didn’t they help? Didn’t they get up?”
“They did, and they did,” Kai answers. “But I’m actually glad they didn’t wake up immediately. I had to fight the bear off alone, for the most part.” He falls silent for a moment, and then volunteers, “I don’t believe in coincidence. I think the Universe is watching us, and it gives us what we need when we need it—even if what we need is a test. That bear was sent to me. It was a gift.”
“That’s very enlightened of you,” I say as I prop one hand beneath my jaw and scoot a little closer to him.
“When they all cancelled on me this year, I thought that they were all such dickbags,” Kai went on. “Big projects due, car maintenance needed, my kid has the flu, et cetera.” I lean a little closer on my elbow, closing the space between us, millimeter by millimeter. “But maybe it was good luck in disguise. If I was hiking in a group, I wouldn’t have been where I needed to be to get to you when you needed me.”
I smile at him until my eyes crinkle. That’s such a kind, selfless sentiment. “Is it your birthday?” I wonder. My other hand is still on his chest but it no longer traces the scar. It is planted in the center of his sternum. I can feel his heartbeat.
Kai answers with a nod. “Thirty-two,” he admits, and my heart softens even more.
“Happy birthday,” I say, gazing up at him with starry eyes.
“Mm, thank you.” He stares back at me and I swallow. His manhood tickles against my inner thigh again, and I know he’s hardening for me but he doesn’t lean in. Maybe he’s waiting for a stronger signal.
“I feel bad,” I whisper. “I didn’t get you anything.”
My index finger lazily trails down the center of his perfectly etched abdomen, and I feel him tense for me, feel his cock jerk and swell with attention to my touch.
“I think you did,” he counters, almost growling it down to me.
My neck lolls in anticipation of his kiss and he descends heavily, pulling my mouth open with his. Our tongues touch and the fingers on my trailing hand wrap around the base of his thick cock, giving an immediate squeeze. Kai groans into my mouth, and I whimper back like an animal returning his call. I pump my hand over him, relishing the dimensions of his manhood, so relieved that all the pretense is gone now. I can’t remember ever wanting a man more than I want Kai Rosemont right now. I feel his hand slip into the long john pants and between my thighs. I let loose a gasp at the slickness of my sex. It moved through me so suddenly, like a tsunami, and now I’m drenched again… but in my own juices this time.
Kai binds one muscled arm around me and we roll, him positioning himself on top of me. My hands are still around his prick and his fingers toy over my clit, bringing me to a quick and heady boil. This sleeping bag is sweltering now. Kai’s fingers tuck into the elastic waistband of the long johns and he slips away, dragging them down my legs and making me naked from the waist down. The pants disappear and my heart beats harder. This is dangerous. I can feel his hot skin on mine now.
He mounts me again and plants his hips against mine, pantomiming sex. His hardness parts my pussy lips, driving subtly over my labia, skating across my clit. My back arches and I seethe, knowing he’s feeling me. My juices are all over him. Shit. He’s so close, yet so far, and his bare skin on mine—both of us so wet, bodies pounding with blood, totally ready—is driving me out of my mind. Is this crazy? Should we stop? I’m sure he doesn’t have a condom. I know I don’t. Who brings a condom on a solo hiking trip?
Kai migrates down my throat and sinks his teeth into me, sucking on my skin. My eyes roll back in my head and I discard all my worries about unplanned pregnancy just like that. I feel like a teenager, dancing around the only thing I want to do, ready for hours of foreplay… but I feel the tip of his head brushing back and forth against my pussy and I weaken. I want him in me now. My hero. My big, strong mountain man. Forget about the world outside this cave, the fancy pen name, all the pressure from my agent, the advance for book number eighteen withering away in my checking account, the looming return to real life. Forget everything. Just fill me like I’m a cavewoman, right here. Let’s get back to basics. Do it the old-fashioned way. Skin on skin. Roaring with orgasm.
His cock disappears from my hungry pussy and my hips buck, searching for him again.
“Look at you,” Kai murmurs, lazily meandering a finger through my folds, each furl of skin coming to life at his touch. He scrapes over my button, patiently driving me closer and closer to the ledge. Every time I think I might be able to open my legs wider, let my head fall back, and just come, he hesitates and I return to a simmer. He’s toying with me. “You needed this, too, didn’t you?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I whimper, losing all respect for myself as I grind helplessly against his fingers. I want to make him make me come but he won’t.
“Then happy birthday to you, too,” he whispers, traveling down between my thighs and disappearing in the darkness of the sleeping bag. I can only see the top of his head now but it’s enough, and my abdomen clenches, knowing what’s coming next. Oh, fuck, yes.
I feel his slick, strong tongue flick over my clitoris and every muscle in my body gets taut. I fling my hands over my head and dig them into raw earth, forgetting about the spiders and the rats that are probably watching this scene. There could be a family of grizzlies outside, watching us like we’re cable TV, and I wouldn’t care. All I can think about is his dick inside me. His dick is burning a hole in my brain right now, I want it so bad.
The tip of his tongue flicks over my clit again and again, and I think he’s just going to tease me to death when he suddenly takes one hand and spreads my pussy lips apart and slightly upward, exposing my clitoris completely. His other hand sinks two fingers inside me and starts pumping and curling. His mouth covers my clit again and sucks hard. My hands leave the
dirt and bury in his hair, clenching fistfuls of it, spiraling deeper and deeper with him trapped between my thighs, sucking me hard. This is heaven, and I know I’m going to come soon. The gauge is in the red. My whole body trembles and flinches like there’s electricity running through me.
His hands leave my pussy and I deflate, thinking my cunnilingus is over. Kai cups my ass, bobbing me up and down against his ministrations, and my thighs clench. My teeth clench. My head rolls back and he laps at me with feverish abandon. I’m shaking all over. My thighs move with his head and we seethe up and down in a rhythm, as if he’s not just between my legs but a part of me, as if we’re one body struggling toward an orgasm we’ll share. I’ve never felt as stupid as I do right now; my brain and my pussy have merged into one. I can’t talk and my eyes are rolling around in my head like goddamn marbles. My oncoming orgasm colors every aspect of this moment. I can think of nothing else. He hits the sweet spot one more time, finally, thankfully, and I unleash. I catapult over the ledge, screaming with gratitude, filling the cave with the sound of my coming.
It’s been so long since a real, flesh-and-blood man brought me to climax.
Panting, Kai strips the sleeping bag back and climbs on top of me with a grin. We’re both covered in a fine sheen of sweat now. His hair is everywhere and his beard smells like… me. I’m still wearing that Henley but I feel totally naked.
“I needed that so bad,” I rasp. “I didn’t even know how bad.”
“We’re not done yet,” Kai whispers against my earlobe. “Take off my shirt.”
I peel the shirt away and Kai is on my tits, soulfully sucking one hard nipple and squeezing the other before the fabric even hits the floor. His cock wedges itself between my thighs, sliding against my skin but not into me. I’m so hot from that orgasm, every little touch sets off a brushfire, and his dick, right there, drives me wild. He’s such a tease. I buck against him and tighten my thighs to create the most friction possible, but it’s all foreplay bullshit. He’s torturing me.
