by Debra Kayn
Quint's needle-nose pliers slipped off the wire, and sparks shot off the tool. "Fuck."
"Whoa." Jared backed away. "Let me flip the breaker switch before you go and electrocute yourself."
His employee jogged off in the direction of the pump house. He'd fixed the plug-ins at each recreational spot himself from day one. He knew what he was doing. Pushing the ground wire back, he lifted the pliers again and grabbed on to the live wire, determined to prove that he could work around the campground with his damn eyes closed.
"All clear," yelled Jared.
Quint grunted and finished the task at hand, then screwed on the plastic cover. Picking up his tools, he carried the pouch to the ATV.
He couldn't even ride through the grounds without the memory of Katelynn's soft, warm body pressed against him. If he weren't careful, he'd find himself getting seriously hurt because of her. He needed to keep his head with Jaster out there waiting for the perfect time to kill him.
Ignoring Jared's curious look, Quint rode away, going around the loop. It was a good day to ride the trails and check out the rest of his property away from the campers, clear his head, and make sure security was tight around Bitterroot Campground.
Maybe then, he could stay away from Katelynn.
Chapter 20
The knock Katelynn expected took her away from the kitchen counter. She hurried to the door, wiping her hands on the hips of her shorts.
Peeking through the window, she turned the knob. "You are fast."
"I aim to please." Jared held up a plastic grocery sack. "Is that all you needed?"
"Yeah." She walked into the kitchen taking the can of unsweetened cocoa powder out of the bag. "Thank you so much."
"Not a problem." Jared lifted his hand. "See you tomorrow at work."
She waved the spoon. "Have a good night."
Adding the cocoa to the bowl, she mixed the ingredients. All week, she'd had a craving for brownies. Doubting Quint had the cocoa in his cupboards, she'd asked Jared where the nearest store was located, and he'd offered to go buy her a can.
Thankful for the offer, she'd hurried to the cabin after work in hopes of having them at least baking when Quint came in. Hoping the smell wafting throughout his cabin would ease the news that she'd taken five dollars out of the petty cash drawer at headquarters, she held up the spoon, looked at the batter, and taste tested.
A low moan of pleasure escaped. All the frustration and tottering on edge around Quint during the week melted away. She hurried to put the pan in the oven.
Setting the timer, she looked around at the mess she'd made and started cleaning the kitchen.
Quint walked in as she finished. She put her hands on the counter and pushed to her toes at the sight of him.
He eyed her curiously. "What's up?"
She waved her hand in front of her nose. "Take a big sniff."
He frowned. "What is that smell?"
"Only the best thing in the world, besides sex." She went down on the heels of her feet. "By the way, I owe you five dollars. I took the money out of the petty cash drawer and left an I.O.U. on your desk. I'm hoping you won't be mad once you have a bite. You can deduct it from my wages."
"Yeah, I saw the note. I'm not worried about five bucks." He walked into the kitchen. "A bite of what?"
"Brownies." She playfully punched him in the stomach. "Can't you smell them?"
"I can smell something good, but I've never had brownies." He opened the oven. "Chocolate cake?"
She gawked at him until he straightened, leaving the oven alone. "You've never had brownies?"
"No."
"How can that be?" She bugged her eyes. "Everyone has tried brownies. Are you allergic to chocolate?"
"Nope." He grabbed a beer out of the fridge.
"That's...so odd." She leaned her hip against the kitchen island. "How do you go through your childhood without having them? I was making them on my own, from a box, when I was twelve years old. At fourteen, I figured out how to make them from scratch."
"I grew up in group homes run by the state. Three square meals a day that consisted of oatmeal for breakfast, macaroni, and cheese for lunch, and some kind of mystery meat with green beans for dinner. By the way, never try and get me to eat green beans." He drank long from the bottle. "I've had cake and a few other desserts over the years when I went to a restaurant or over to Anders' Lair."
The air in the room pressed in on her. No brownies. No family. He talked as if having cake was something special.
"You didn't live with your family at all? Ever?" she asked softly.
His mouth curled down inside his beard. "No."
"I had no idea." She stared through the window on the oven. "Group homes...that makes me sad for you."
"No reason for you to feel anything. It was a long time ago." He set his bottle on the counter.
The oven timer buzzed. She grabbed a hand towel and removed the pan. The heat from the oven warmed her.
"They have to cool before we can eat them." She looked up at him and stepped over to the fridge. "So, I made us each a sandwich earlier. I wasn't sure what you'd want for dinner."
"That's fine." He took the foiled package from her. "I'm going to take it out on the porch."
"Okay." She continued standing in the kitchen, longing to go out with him.
She'd only seen him once in the afternoon when he'd brought guests into headquarters and pointed them to the items they were seeking. Wanting to talk to him, she'd tried to get his attention, but he'd left without looking at her.
Quint stood in the opened doorway. "Are you coming?"
A smile came to her mouth and traveling down to make her stomach flutter in happiness. Grabbing her sandwich, she walked outside.
"Take the rocker." Quint sat on the rail, gazing out at the woods.
She sat and opened the foil, taking a bite of her turkey on rye. Able to watch Quint without him looking at her, she enjoyed her view.
There was something incredibly manly about a guy who wore a flannel shirt rolled up above his elbows in all kinds of weather with jeans worn thin in all the appropriate spots on his body. She swallowed hard, forcing the food down her throat. The last time she'd used a dating app, she'd requested to meet men out of her comfort zone, totally unlike her, and the opposite of what she was attracted to in the hope of finding someone special.
Since her love life sucked, she had hoped going for someone different would spark something in her and she'd fall in love.
When she thought of having a relationship, she leaned toward hipsters. Skinny jeans, short hair—the wildest thing would be a tongue piercing or a tattoo, hidden of course, because his eye would be on getting a corporate job after putting the time in doing errands for a lawyer or CEO.
She took in Quint's long beard. Now, rugged, outdoorsy men were her thing.
Snorting, she looked down at her half-eaten sandwich. Make that one rugged, outdoorsy man.
Quint turned his head and looked at her. "What?"
"What?" She cocked her head.
"I thought you said something."
"Did I?"
Quint's mouth softened. She took another bite of sandwich, raising her brows. If he wanted to be by himself, then she could keep her thoughts private.
He crinkled the foil into a ball. She copied him, bunching her trash in her hands. Preoccupied with him, she hadn't tasted a bite of her sandwich. She merely ate because that was what she was supposed to do and they'd grown into the habit of sharing dinner together.
A rumble echoed under the roof of the porch. She jolted.
"What was that?" She planted both feet on the deck, stopping the rocker from moving, and leaned forward.
"Thunder." He leaned over the railing and looked up at the sky. "The weather report predicted a storm. That usually happens at the beginning of fire season."
"Fire season?" She stood and walked to the edge of the porch. "I thought with all the snow you get in the winter, Idaho wouldn't have a drought."<
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"We have a lot of timber in the Bitterroot Mountains. It's like fuel to lightning strikes." He slid off the railing. "Let's hope we get some rain with this storm. The campers complain when the forestry department puts a ban on campfires, and they can't cook from the pit."
A white flash lit up the sky. She stepped closer to the house, staying safe under the roof.
"Do you lose business if there's a ban?" She leaned against the outside of the cabin.
"A small number of campers will change their mind about coming to the campground, but we'll make up for it around Labor Day when the place is packed."
"I thought you closed for the season then," she said.
"The weekend after." He turned his head at the pinging of raindrops on the metal roof.
She recognized his exhale of relief. Anything that affected his campground worried him, though he rarely showed the strain he was under.
Little plumes of dust rose with each drop of rain on the forest floor. Hypnotized by the two opposites contacting, she watched the dirt hide the water. It wasn't enough moisture to wet the ground, the bushes, the trees.
She inhaled deeply through her nose. The storm brought a freshness to the air, and electricity to her body. Antsy, she rotated her shoulders, wishing the air cooled her off instead of warming her body.
Tilting back her head, she closed her eyes and let the ting, ting, ting of the raindrops on the roof fill her ears.
Instead of calming her, the pace of the rain hitting the metal increased, setting her heart to beating faster.
Thunder crackled the sky. She flinched and opened her eyes meeting Quint's gaze. As she waited for the next flash of lightning, she held her breath, locked onto Quint. His upper body rose and fell as if stealing her air.
Or, maybe she couldn't catch her breath because of the way he looked at her. So open and tortured. The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened.
The quicker she exhaled, the faster he inhaled. As if the air between them would disappear any second and they'd die. Unconscious of moving, she found herself standing in front of him.
She stepped an inch forward. Her breasts brushed against his body.
Quint's sharp gasp the only warning before he captured her mouth. She curled her fingers into his flannel shirt and stretched to her toes. His urgency sparked her arousal.
The sky crackled above them. Quint walked her backward and pressed her against the side of the cabin without taking his mouth from her. Braced against the logs, she arched against him, moaning into his mouth.
Quint's tongue swiped hers and yet, his hands went to her face, holding her cheeks, as he consumed her, then pulled back only to dive back in.
Her pussy spasmed. A hunger buried deep inside of her brought her leg up. She rubbed the inside of her thigh against his outer leg.
"Jesus," he mumbled against her mouth, catching her bottom lip between his teeth. "I don't want to stop."
"Don't." She sucked on his tongue.
He groaned, then he moved her. She stumbled backward, holding on to him, refusing to let go. He wasn't allowed to change his mind.
She'd wanted him for a long time. Danced around him, trying to fight her attraction, and still, he was there. Saving her. Staying. Protecting.
Quint opened the door, grabbed her, and dragged her inside. In the back of her mind, the door shut. But, she couldn't think because he guided her down to the floor, barely making it onto the round rug in front of the couch.
His hooded gaze reflected her need. "Take your shorts off."
He reached behind his neck and pulled his flannel over his head, skipping the buttons. She wiggled the shorts off her hips and pulled them past her feet by the time Quint took a condom out of his wallet and undid his belt and jeans.
His gaze, filled with lust, landed between her legs. She pressed her knees together at the onslaught of pleasure, knowing he wanted her.
She looked down at his busy hands, already working to protect her. Her lips parted at the way the condom stretched to accommodate his size. She should've known every part of him matched the broad, tall, solid body.
The wetness between her legs apparent to both of them. She whimpered as he lowered himself down. The sound reverberated inside the cabin.
Looping her arms around his neck, she rubbed her face against his whiskers, inhaling deeply to slow herself down, but the aroma of campfire, rain, and pine trees coming off him caused its own thunder inside of her.
The light above her on the ceiling flickered before going out. Still light enough outside, she barely registered the storm brewing on the mountain.
Quint slid his cock against her thigh until he sank into her pussy. A low moan erupted, and she flung her legs around his hips.
He took advantage of her tilted head and sealed her lips with his mouth. Clinging to him, she sucked, licked, kissed as pleasure consumed her. Her hips rocked against his, taking the brunt of his thrusts.
Quint rolled, taking her with him, and she ended up on top of him. She lifted her head, pressing her hands down on his broad chest.
"Fuck me." He slipped his hands under her shirt, dragging it over her head.
She lifted her hands and undid the front clasp of her bra and welcomed the air, no matter how warm, on her overheated skin. The sudden freedom from clothes further tormented her hardened nipples. Her lower stomach spiraled tighter.
Riding him harder, she leaned forward and used him to thrust her pelvis up and down. His hands squeezed her ass as his gaze locked in on her bouncing breasts.
His cock hit her perfectly, and she ground down on him, panting to try and slow her body's reaction.
But, from early on, there was no controlling her behavior or response to Quint. She'd fought with herself for months and found herself drawn to him, feeding off his moods, drawn to his attention.
Quint's jaw opened. His gaze shot to her face. She dipped down and kissed him hard.
The change in position gave him free reign to thrust into her. He spanned his hands on her hips, lifting and lowering her. She quivered at his manipulation.
He stayed in her.
His tongue.
His cock.
Thoroughly consumed, she had no way of stopping the storm from crashing, flashing, and raining down on her.
She came hard, moaning her pleasure into his mouth.
He clamped her down, holding her tight, and climaxed with her.
Collapsing on top of him, she was rocked by his pounding chest, rising and falling underneath her. Heat radiated off him.
His hand snaked up her back and held her nape. Her pulse beat under his thumb, and she sighed in contentment.
For the first time, despite her not being a good enough daughter and at her personal lowest point in her life, she was wanted.
In the distance, thunder rolled down the mountain. Dogs barked in the campground. Quint hardened. She raised her head and looked down onto his face.
Something froze inside of him. Something beyond her understanding, but whatever was going through him came out and shook her.
Chapter 21
The rain from the earlier storm had puddled in the low areas of the property around the cabin. Quint shut the door and walked off the porch to the ATV. Wiping the seat off with the sleeve of his shirt, he rode toward the campground.
He'd waited twenty minutes after the last boom of thunder for the dogs to quiet down, and when that hadn't happened, he'd lost his patience.
Pulling to a stop, he left the ATV running while he knocked on the door. Because of the reported storm, he'd asked Jared to spend the night at headquarters in case lightning struck or he needed an extra hand putting out a fire. He'd have Jared go over and see what was riling the dogs.
His employee answered the door. "Hey, boss. Some storm, huh?"
"Do me a favor and go over to loop D and find out what's making the dogs bark. If it's the owners' negligence, tell them to do something to shut the damn things up. There are campers trying to sleep."
"Not when it comes to dogs. The guests can party as loud as they want up until that time, but no sane person wants to hear someone else's dog yapping and going crazy." He walked back to the quad and rode toward the cabin.
Already, the ground was soaking up the downpour from earlier. Tomorrow, everything would be dusty again.
He turned off the engine and stared at the cabin. No sooner had he pulled his cock out of Katelynn and the incessant barking broke outside broke him down, and he'd left.
Now that he was away from her, he wanted to stay gone. He couldn't go back in and pretend things were normal. He'd crossed the line and taken things too far.
He'd seen the way Katelynn looked at him, and he'd given her what she wanted. He let his chin fall to his chest. And, found everything he needed.
"Fuck," he mumbled, knowing he wasn't going to walk away from her.
She'd unknowingly wormed her way under his skin. There was no going back to keeping his distance.
They worked together at the campground as a team. The more independence he gave her, the more she stepped out of her way to show him she cared.
He'd never had anyone at home waiting for him to come in from work and he found himself looking forward to the evenings because he enjoyed sitting out on the porch with her. Whether she started the conversation and rolled with any topic or they shared the silence, only interrupted by the occasional noise from the campground or the snowbirds that fluttered in and out under his porch.
Katelynn went from guarded to open with him. Yet, there was more about her he wanted to know.
He got off the ATV and jumped on the porch, skipping the steps, and into the cabin. His balls ached in pleasure, wanting her again.
Katelynn walked out of the hallway in a nightgown that floated around her body, only held by two slim straps on her bare shoulders. Her wet hair hung down, dampening the cloth covering her breasts. The material plastered against her hard nipples.
