by Tess MacKall
Keeping his mouth on her nipple, he smoothed his hand over her torso and hips, finally palming her pussy. Lucia strained upward into his touch. Sam positioned the heel of his palm right on top of her clit. He applied pressure, moving his hand in a circular motion. Her moans grew louder and she writhed against the mattress.
Slipping one finger inside her, he trembled at how wet she’d become. All for him. The desire to taste her overwhelmed him. He moved lower so his face hovered above her sex. Nuzzling his nose into her cleft, he breathed deeply. She smelled crisp, spicy, sweet, earthy. And it had been so damn long since he’d sampled a woman this way. Trapped in this existence, he never strayed far from his mountain. Now the spirits had sent a woman to him and he planned to lick her from head to toe. There was nothing in this world that compared to the taste of a woman, ripe and ready for a man.
She spread her legs, a clear invitation to love her with his tongue. Sam gripped her outer thighs and lightly ran his tongue the length of her cleft, moving downward then upward again. With each pass, his tongue delved deeper until her slickened folds parted and he tasted the heated cream of her desire.
Damn, she tasted good. His cock ached for her, but he wanted her to come in his mouth, to swallow every drop of her sweet juices. Lucia’s hips lurched as he flicked her clit in rapid-fire succession. The scent of her arousal became stronger. Close, she was so close. Sam slowed the strokes or she would come too quickly. He wanted to keep her on the edge for a little while longer. Backing off, he blew a steady stream of air over her swollen nub, feeling her tremble.
“Sam…please…I need you.” Soft and sexy, lazy with desire, her words came out almost like a purr.
Had a woman ever wanted him so much? Or did he just want to believe this was special? His tongue rounded her clit then he opened his mouth and nursed on the nub, driving her wild. She bucked and clutched at the sheets. Deep moans loosed from her lips as she pumped her pussy into his face. A loud cry echoed across the room. She grabbed at his head, tangling her fingers in his damp hair.
Sam slid his tongue lower and captured the juices streaming from her opening. He swallowed, tasting her sweet cum. Lucia fell backward, her body spent. Rising, he moved on top of her, propped himself on one arm and pushed the hair away from her face. She grabbed his finger and sucked on it, moaning. The warm wetness of her mouth zipped through him and rested in his balls. God he needed to feel that heaven. But first he would come inside her. Reaching for the bedside table, he grabbed a condom and ripped into the package. He skimmed it over his cock and settled over her again.
Guiding his cock to the source of her heat, he thrust forward, the squeezing sensation of her walls stretching then closing, gripping him like a vise. He stilled as she released his finger and glided her hands over his shoulders and down his back. She brought her legs to his hips and linked her ankles behind his back, ready for the ride.
She stared at him and he couldn’t mistake the glazed look of desire in her big beautiful eyes. Drawing his cock back, he plunged it inside her once more. His long, steady strokes were met by her thrusting hips. The muscles of her face tensed and she raked her nails along his back. Her mouth wide, she cried out. His mind emptied of all thought save the turtle-shell rattler singing its song. Sam couldn’t control his cock any longer and emptied inside her. Throwing his head back, he growled, his body rigid.
The turtle-shell rattler quieted and Sam collapsed to the bed, nestling his woman against him.
Chapter Three
Lucia stirred and cracked her eyes open, confused for a second as to why no tent covered her. Realization leached into her mind and she stared at a large wall where a velvet rug in hues of tans, ambers and blacks hung. At her right were two windows. Sunlight shone around the outside of the burgundy-colored drapes, the rays also bleeding through the center gap where one set didn’t quite meet. Sam must have closed them to keep the sun from waking her. Last night the moonlight had clearly revealed every inch of his beautiful body. Beneath the windows sat a long wooden sideboard and she squinted to make out what lay on top. A set of knives with what appeared to be intricately carved ivory handles lay in a regimented row. She wondered if he hunted. Blades, each a different length and shape—some curved, some straight—caught the sun peeking around the curtains.
Her body ached and she recalled the trek through the forest and the leap over the ravine. In sync with her thoughts, her ankle throbbed. Despite the tiny bite of pain, a sense of well-being pervaded her. She smiled, happy to be in a bed and not a sleeping bag over a thin, foam-filled mat. This room calmed her, the lack of wealthy trappings uplifting compared to homes in the city where the more you had the better you were perceived. Lucia had believed that too—until now. The furnishings humbled her, making her realize she didn’t need things to feel content. Where did that come from? Perhaps the fright from last night had given her a fresh perspective on life.
Where is Sam?
Memories of their quick fuck in the bathroom and their sensual joining in bed flooded back. Far from being embarrassed or ashamed, she took their coupling for what it was—two people in need of one another during a time when stress levels were high. Did it really matter that no love was involved?
She shook her head to clear it, her cheeks hot and her heart beating too fast. She needed to concentrate on other things. Indulging herself a while longer, she closed her eyes and listened. Birdsong filtered in and she imagined hundreds of birds in the forest joining together to create a beautiful melody. Banging sounded—pots and pans in the kitchen?—and she opened her eyes, flinging back the sheet and patchwork quilt, handmade if she guessed correctly. Rich reds and creams lent the covering a warm appearance, and she had the sudden urge to remain cocooned inside it, Sam by her side.
Instead, she stood and stretched, then walked naked to the window, her ankle giving only a slight twinge. She pulled open one set of drapes and stared outside, resting her hands on the sideboard next to the knives as she looked upward. A clear blue sky, white fluffy clouds and a brilliant sun gave the impression summer reigned, but she’d bet her last dollar a nip ruled the air and, judging by the sway of the branches in the forest, the breeze was stiff enough to keep anyone who had no pressing business outside, indoors.
But she did. She’d have to go into town and buy a new tent, and later find a safer place to camp. Lucia turned from the window and looked around for her clothes. If there had been a wardrobe or a chest or drawers, she would have searched through them, but it seemed Sam had no need of clothing or anywhere to store it.
Surely he doesn’t go into town naked?
She laughed at that and the thought of people’s faces if he did. It wasn’t something he could get away with where she came from, that was for sure. Lucia folded the quilt to the bottom of the bed and removed the top sheet. Wrapping it around her toga-style, she padded out of the room and into the hallway, her ankle protesting. She cursed and continued through to the living room. A fire flickered in the grate, the room warm and inviting. She moved toward the large window at the front of the property, drawn by the beautiful grassy clearing surrounded on all three sides by forest.
Lucia glanced back at the sofa, relieved that her bags were still beside it. Unable to resist, she pulled out her camera and opened the front door, stepping out in the chilly air. Goose bumps sprang up on her arms and she shivered, an eerie spiral of dread wending up her spine. Wide-awake now, she surveyed her surroundings, sure that something wasn’t right. She snapped a couple of pictures. Had something shifted out there in the forest? A dark figure? She stared, focusing on where she’d seen the slight movement. Yes, there it was again. Someone stood between two tree trunks, clothed in black, a white moon face staring right at her. She zoomed in, the angry face of a large man filling her view. She caught a succession of photographs until he realized what she was doing and lumbered off, disappearing into the forest.
A shuffle sounded behind her and she gasped, whirling to face Sam, who stood in the threshol
d. “Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!”
“What’s wrong?” His brows drew together and he peered over her shoulder into the clearing.
“I saw someone in the forest. A man.” She placed a hand over her fast-beating heart.
“A man? What was he doing?” Sam narrowed his eyes, still gazing behind her.
“Staring at this place. I took his picture.” She indicated her camera.
Sam ushered her inside, locking the door behind her. “Show me.”
Lucia selected the view screen and held the camera up for him to see.
“Bastard.” Sam scrubbed his chin, his taut face showing nothing but anger.
“Who is he?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Lucia looked at him, realizing he was clothed. Disappointment obliterated the fear the forest man had inspired. She gave an unsteady smile to hide a nervous laugh—had she really expected Sam to walk around buck naked all the time? Still, he looked good in jeans and a tight-fitting black T-shirt, his hair tied back at the nape and his head covered with a white bandana.
“You hungry?” He stared into her eyes, his gaze intense. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes and yes, thank you.” She moved toward him, lifted her camera and took his picture. If today was the last she’d see of him, she wanted a tangible memento of him. Something to look back on and ask herself What if…?
Emotion lodged in her throat—the thought of never seeing him again was almost too much to accept. She frowned, unused to such feelings coming on so quickly, and told herself she was being irrational.
“Are you all right?” Sam stepped to the side to allow her to move farther into the living room.
She nodded and put her camera away, a sudden chill coursing down her spine and an unexplainable sense of loss hollowing out her insides. “I…uh, do you have coffee?” He regarded her with a steady gaze that had her taking in a sharp breath. Her heart raced and she gripped the sofa back to steady her weak legs.
“Here. Let me help you.” Sam took her elbow, guiding her to a wooden table in the kitchen and pressing her onto a chair.
Lucia sat, disoriented for a moment as if all she was and knew herself to be had been stolen away, leaving new feelings she hadn’t experienced before. Her head lightened and she clutched the table edge, closing her eyes to steady her equilibrium.
What’s happening to me?
“I think you might have caught a chill last night. You’re flushed and don’t look too well.”
She savored the sensations his voice inspired—heat burning her folds, her nipples tightening into hard peaks that begged to be licked—then opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her again, pressing a glass of water into her hand and nodding for her to sip. The cool liquid felt good on her tongue and she finished the drink, better for having taken in some fluid.
“I’ll make you a coffee and some toast.” Sam moved to the worktop where he busied himself with the task.
The scent of coffee wafted to her, warm and pleasing, like she was back home. For a moment she wished she were, but she shoved that thought away. Sentiment wasn’t on her agenda either—at least not until she’d found her father’s resting place, and maybe even then she’d hold back until she’d caught the cougar on camera.
“Sugar and creamer?”
Sam’s voice startled her, its timbre commanding yet mellow. Again her cunt clenched and her nipples rubbed against the sheet, the abrasion nothing like his wet tongue last night as he’d suckled them. Heat suffused her face at the memory of being so wanton. “Fuck me…”
Lucia blinked and closed her eyes briefly. “Um, please.” She adjusted the sheet higher under her armpits, conscious that her cleavage was on show. Not that his gaze had strayed there. He’d been chivalrous, keeping eye contact only, a far cry from the city men she was used to. Her nipples brushing the sheet mocked her unfulfilled desire to have his mouth there instead. She squirmed, her pussy lips wet, the throb there insistent and bold.
He placed coffee and buttered toast in front of her and sat opposite her, studying her with those deep, dark eyes—eyes that seemed to see into her soul, to know what thoughts whispered through her mind. His lips tweaked upward, but he straightened them quickly, leaving her wondering if he had really smiled at all.
“What did you need to see me about?” he asked.
A part of her died inside at his apparent ease at forgetting what had happened between them the night before, but she scolded herself. Wasn’t this why she was here? To interest him in helping her? Batting the unfamiliar needy emotions away, she forced a smile and picked up a slice of toast.
“I was told you’d be able to take me to where my father died.”
His eyes widened briefly, as though he were searching his mind for an answer. He cocked his head and frowned. “No one has been murdered in these parts for quite a while. When did your father…pass?”
“He wasn’t murdered. And it was a month ago, in the area where I was camped. At least, I think it was there. You saved me from what killed him.”
“A mudslide?” His gaze penetrated hers. “So you’re talking about Chavez, the guy who came to find the black cougar?”
Lucia nodded and blushed under his scrutiny, feeling as though Sam was irked by her father’s reason for being here. And why had he said “murdered”? “He was a photographer, but more than anything he loved nature and animals. He’d retired and came here to capture the cougar’s image.” Her throat tightened and she swallowed, dropping the uneaten toast back onto the plate. Her hunger vanished and she stared out the window, studying the mountain so close on the other side of the glass. “I need closure, I need—” She turned to him and stopped herself from revealing her intention to find the cougar too. Something about the tightness of Sam’s mouth and the blaze in his eyes warned her not to offer such information.
“The cougar needs to be left alone. It doesn’t court company. Or need public exposure. It doesn’t deserve being placed in a cage to be stared at and studied.” He grimaced and his jaw muscles flexed. Slapping his palms on the table, he rose and strode to the washer and dryer situated on the far wall. “Your clothes should be dry by now. I washed them this morning.” He opened the dryer and removed her clothes—everything she had brought with her. As he folded them, he said, “The rain had soaked through your bag.” He placed a pair of panties on the pile.
His casual manner amazed her. There he stood, one of her bras in hand, looking at her without the slightest hint of embarrassment. He continued to fold and she stifled the urge to get up and finish the task.
“Thank you. That was very kind. I’ll be out of your way after today. If you’re not too busy and can take me to my father’s resting place, once I’ve paid my respects I’ll trek into town and buy some more camping equipment. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me so far, but I really don’t think you want me hanging around getting in your way.”
Sam stared at her, eyes and mouth wide, a pink sock clutched in one hand. He appeared startled, offended even, and she wondered what she’d said to elicit such a reaction.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you can stay here. It’s not safe. And not just because of the mudslides.” He placed the sock with its companion on the pile and retook his seat at the table. “That man you saw is hunting the cougar. He’s not someone you’d want to run into—he’s not a good person. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Her stomach rolled over and she picked up her cup to occupy her shaking hands. After taking a sip of coffee she nodded. Were there dangerous people out there willing to take lives in order to get what they wanted? “So I take it camping alone wouldn’t be too smart, right?”
“Damn right.”
She pondered what Sam had said about the cougar. Should she stay just to take its picture and risk others coming to find it too? Or should she go back home to the life and comforts she’d missed since coming here? Concrete sidewalks instead of grass and sludge
. Dainty shoes instead of clumpy boots. Loneliness instead of…what? She huffed out a laugh. A little time spent with Sam hardly justified her thinking it could lead to more, but that thought had flickered through her mind, hadn’t it? The briefest of thoughts, but one that startled her with its strength all the same. She eyed the rigid set of his jaw and took it for anger, but was it directed at the man she had seen in the forest or her?
Abruptly, she decided to leave before she allowed herself to feel things she shouldn’t. Things that clearly weren’t reciprocated. Things she had no right to expect based on one night. Yes, she’d had the fuck of her life and wished for more of the same, but… “I’ll go back to the city tomorrow.” She sipped her coffee, the taste suddenly bitter. “I won’t trouble you further.” But, damn! I wanted to finish what Dad started. Where’s my determination gone?
His hand shot out to grip her wrist and heat spread up her arm and through her body. Fear followed close behind, but not the kind that warned her away from him. No, she sensed the fear coming from him and didn’t understand why.
“No.” He stared at her—hard. “You must stay. Here. With me.”
“I…I have no reason to be here other than why I came, and once today is over, my main objective will have been met. I have a job and a home to return to, a life waiting back in the city. It was silly of me to come. I don’t belong here.”
She stared at him, and the warmth pooled in her belly before seeping into her pussy. The hot desire she’d experienced last night threatened to erupt again and she squeezed her legs together. His gaze drew her in and a force surrounded her, alien in its intensity. The need to remain here grew, but she pushed it aside. She was being fanciful, imagining she’d felt something she hadn’t and heard a pleading lilt in his voice that wasn’t there. Lust had gripped them, and that’s all that had a hold of her now.
