by Unknown
She froze. The woman cried, but not with pleasure. Zaden never took anyone, male or female, gently. His penchant for brutal rapes was well known in the jungles of almost every country they’d ever been in. His name alone created fear in the hearts of guerilla soldiers who fought their endless, bloody wars.
Kane propped up on one elbow and watched the scenes unfolding in front of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d observed this show, different woman, different man, different place, but the ending was always the same.
Zaden swiveled his head toward him, reminding him of a gigantic praying mantis about to devour its unsuspecting prey. That was Zaden, alright, predictable as hell. Devour the mate during copulation.
Kane took a deep breath and held it. Zaden didn’t let the fact that Kane watched him fuck Darlene slow his cold possession of the woman one bit. He grunted and thrust, grunted and thrust. Darlene whimpered and cried with each new deep penetration. Mesmerized by their joined bodies, their mating shadows dancing the sexual dance on the wall, Kane couldn’t take his fascinated gaze off them.
Judging by his partner’s sudden short gasps, he’d climaxed, but there was more to come than just Zaden. Kane held that deep breath. Waited. Waited. Breathless. Time crawled. His lungs ached and felt near to bursting, but he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t release that tight breath and draw another—not until—there, the slight giveaway.
Zaden locked his fingers in Darlene’s long dark hair—the way he yanked her head back, the slow draw of the cold blade across her smooth throat without warning, Zaden’s grunt as he pulled out of her and shoved her to one side, held Kane enthralled. Same old Zaden. He had cutting a victim’s jugular down to a fine art.
The scent of fresh blood, a slight gurgle of Darlene’s last breath, and finally, Kane slowly exhaled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” he said, bored now that it was over.
Zaden laughed. “And I knew you’d watch me do her in more ways than one.”
“I thought you wanted to keep her? Have some kids?”
“I got tired of hearing the bitch cry. Maybe I’ll have those kids with Jayla.”
Kane shrugged, indifferent. “We better get up, get around. It’ll be daylight soon.”
“Yep.” Zaden stood up and stepped around Darlene’s still body. “Put on some coffee. I don’t wanna hit the cold without something to warm my insides. I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“You want me to get rid of her for you?”
“Leave her there…all fucked up and well fucked. By now the Rimrock law knows we took her. Why bother hiding her body?”
Kane nodded. “Why, indeed.”
* * * *
3:00 p.m.
The day turned out to be as punishing and cruel as Wild warned it’d be, and it wasn’t over yet. In the saddle, Jayla leaned back against him, exhausted, but contented.
He slid his arm around her waist. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Just tired. It’s been a long time since this morning.”
He grinned and pressed a kiss close to her ear. “I can’t deny that. It doesn’t help matters with you seated in front of me rubbing your sweet butt against my…you know.”
“Are we discussing your penis?” Jayla batted her lashes trying her best to look as if she’d never converse about such a thing.
“Yes.” His face turned as red as tomato paste. “No. Hell, woman. Don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean.”
Jayla giggled. She did know. Indeed she did. It always amazed her how he was usually reluctant to use dirty words in front of her. She guessed it was that ingrained cowboy politeness. Even when he said something dirty, it just didn’t sound quite right.
She’d purposely moved with the horse’s steps in order to tease and sexually torment her cowboy. It worked. His cock felt like an iron poker jabbing her behind. Thinking about having sex with Wild once they stopped for the night reminded her of the delicious way he’d aroused her that morning.
Awakening to his long slow kisses was the best thing that’d ever happened to her. Toasty warm in front of the fire, his body covering hers—what more could a woman desire?
“Mmmm,” she’d groaned, responding to the way his mouth traveled across her breasts and lingered to tease her aching nipples. “I could get used to this. I take it you’re a morning person,” she said between his lips rubbing against hers.
“I’m an anytime person…” he said throatily, and moved his hips to make his point. His morning erection stabbed at her feminine portal, and Lordy, she was more than ready for his possession.
“Yeah, so am I.” She whimpered as he walked his fingers up her breasts and toyed with her nipples until they tightened, silently inviting his mouth to taste them again.
When he kissed her, she forgot everything else, the first lady’s violent demise, her fear of Kane, the impending violence once he caught up with her, Hamilton and his warped proclivity for underage pussy. Nothing mattered, except for Wild. It all took second place to her cowboy’s heated kisses and tender caresses.
Wild trailed his fingers up her arms, across her breasts, and down her belly. Pausing, he replaced his touches with his mouth, trailing kisses along the same path he’d just taken, tasting her tight nipples, licking and sucking them before moving on down her thickening midriff, down…down…until he found what he sought.
The touch of his mouth, lips, tongue, and teeth, tasting, licking, gentle love bites in the most sensitive places, all of it sent tiny electrical shocks exploding through her body. She arched against his mouth, thrilling to the wet stroke of his delicious tongue stabbing her. She savored the exquisite feel of him taking her in this delicious way.
Jayla tangled her fingers in his dark hair and cried out at the powerful orgasm slamming into her body. Then he started over, tasting her from the tops of her brows to the tips of her toes and finally settling once again between her willing thighs.
She’d never known how wonderful sex could be with the right man. She’d never had that and now that Jayla knew what she’d missed, she’d never go back to second best. Sure, she’d climaxed with Kane, but there had always been something missing, that something special that told her she was the most important woman in the world to this one man. She’d always felt as if he had to think about pleasuring her, that he resented slowing down in order for her to climax.
Bucking beneath Wild as he nibbled at a particular sensitive spot, she never felt that way. He made sure she was satisfied and it was a pleasure for him to do so. He flicked his tongue, licking, and teasing, and just like that, she spiraled over the edge again and again. He started to mount her then, but she stopped him with a softly spoken, No.
Puzzled, he lifted a brow. “More?” he teased.
“No. It’s my turn.”
“Aw, baby,” he whispered, “you don’t have to.”
“I know that. I want you, Wild Remington, in the most elemental way. I want to taste you, lick you, nibble on your…you know…until you’re ready to blow.”
He swallowed hard, his eyes hot with need. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. At long last, he’d allow her to touch him the way she wanted, the way she needed.
Releasing a long slow breath, he relaxed. “I’m yours,” he said quietly. “I guess I always have been.”
Jayla sighed. Happy. She couldn’t keep from grinning. Oh, how he pleased her. He was hers. He always had been, and if she had any say in the matter, he always would be.
“Hey, watch out! Jump! Damn it! Jump!” The jarring words jerked her out of the heated sex she’d been mouth-wateringly immersed in and back to the cold present. She didn’t have to jump though. Wild flung her out of the saddle before she had time to react to his warning.
Oomph! She hit the icy ground in a headlong run, crash landing hard on her all fours.“Ouch-ouch-ouch!”All she could manage were those sharp words. Her knees throbbed so badly she couldn’t move. They felt like one huge abrasion. Tears stung her eyes. The palms of her hands burned from cu
ts made by the sharp splinters of ice and rocks.
She should have been wearing the gloves Wild loaned her, but no, she’d taken them off earlier and jammed them in her coat pocket. Feeling guilty for wearing them when he had nothing, she’d refused to keep them on.
He’d argued with her, but it was one dispute she won.
Wild kicked out of the stirrups and dropped to the frozen ground beside her. “The last mare—” he started, but never finished. Long, high-pitched screams rent the air. Horrible neighing.
Jayla covered her ears and buried her face against his chest. “Oh, Wild,” she sobbed.
“I know. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you off this cold ground.” He took a moment to steady Jayla on her feet, before turning away and running to the rear of the line.
She caught her breath as he slipped and skated down the steep icy slope. No matter, it was too late. The mare lost her footing on the slippery surface. Pawing at the slick surface to get a grip, the animal lost traction. The weight it carried and gravity outdid her. The mare plunged over the edge just as Wild snatched the reins off the ground. He barely locked his fingers around the leather strips, couldn’t let go quick enough…and just that fast, he tumbled over the edge with the horse.
“Noo,” Jayla screamed and rushed as fast as the slippery slope would allow her to the place she’d seen him and the mare disappear. She dropped to her belly and peered over the icy ledge. “Wild! Please God, let him be okay. I can’t lose him. I can’t. I need him so. Please. Please.”
Damn it! Why was everything a blur?
She rubbed the tears from her eyes and looked again, but still couldn’t see him. “Wild!”
The shouted word echoed back at her, lonely and forlorn, ripped away by the wind. Lost. Tears slid down her face. “Oh, God, baby, answer me,” she cried in a mournful voice. “Wild!”
She broke then, her voice cracking. She’d lost him. Dear God, she couldn’t bear this. She couldn’t.
“Here. I’m here,” he called back.
Relief washed over her. He was alive! Oh, God. He sounded weak, she’d barely heard him over the wind.
Was he injured?
If so, how badly?
She crawled closer, leaned farther over the edge, and there he was, on a tiny outcropping of thick ice, a flimsy shelf not much bigger than a serving platter. He lay curled in a tight ball, his back to her.
Something wasn’t right.
Granted, he didn’t have much space, but he wasn’t moving, or trying to look up at her. She had no idea how strong the minuscule ledge was, if it’d hold or break under his weight.
“Are you okay?”
Why did she ask that?
Of course he wasn’t okay.
He’d just toppled over a dangerous ledge.
Lying so still, so far below her, terror gripped her heart. She hadn’t a clue how she was supposed to get him back up and safe in her arms. The wall he’d have to scale was so damned icy and slick it was a nightmare of unbelievable proportion, slow and dangerous to climb.
Jayla bit her lip. “What do I need to do? How can I help you?”
Are you safe?
She dared not ask him that. Whatever peril he was in, he knew it better than she. Her imagination conjured up the worse scenario. She didn’t need that, and she didn’t need to project her terror to him.
“Rope,” he called. “There’s a rope on my saddle. Loop one end around the saddle horn and drop the other end to me. Rosie can drag me up. Hurry.”
“Are you injured?”
“Left arm…broken, shattered…elbow. There’s bone…”
Left arm?
That was good.
“Better the left than the right. Right?” She tried to inject some cheer into her words but failed miserably.
“Wrong.”
“Shit…you’re left-handed.” How could she forget that little detail?
“Yup. Get the rope, baby. This ledge won’t hold me for long. The ice is cracking.”
“Right. The rope.”
She beat a hasty retreat to Rosie and grabbed the lariat.
Hurry. Hurry. Her mind screamed the words.
Numb to the bone, her fingers didn’t want to cooperate. After two tries, she managed to loop the rope around the saddle horn and knot it in place.
Jayla turned to run back to the ledge, but froze. Her pulse pounded. Her heart felt like it was going to explode.
“Oh, wolf, why’d you choose now to make your appearance?”
Not daring to move forward, not with the dangerous creature daring her with those horrible yellow eyes, frustration gnawed at her gut. She had to get to Wild. He needed her. Now.
But the animal stood there between her and the ledge. It glared at her, lips curled, sharp fangs protruding like deadly daggers from a gaping snout. A low growl rose from deep in its throat. Threatening. Intimidating. Deadly. The long sharp teeth were enough to petrify a saint.
God knew she wasn’t a saint.
And He knew she couldn’t just stand here.
“Okay, wolf, if I can’t move forward, maybe I can move backward.” She stepped back, slow, easy, and closer to Rosie who pawed the ground and neighed in fright. The rifle rested snugly in its leather boot. All she had to do was get close enough to grab it.
The wolf growled a second warning. The hair stood up along its spine.
Jayla froze.
Waited. If it charged, would she have enough time to grasp the rifle? Would the wolf rip out her throat? Most likely.
Back a step.
Growl.
Freeze.
Shit, this was getting her nowhere. Jayla whirled and snatched the rifle from the boot and quickly turned to face the wolf. She didn’t take time to aim as it charged toward her, but fired—aiming high. The bullet hit a rock and ricocheted. Ping-pang-ping!
But it worked. The wolf whimpered and scrammed. That’s all she needed.
“And don’t come back,” she yelled.
“Jayla!”
“I’m coming.” She hurried to the edge and lowered the rope.
“What’s going on up there?”
“Uninvited company,” she said.
“Wolf?”
“It’s gone.”
He moaned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hard to work the rope over my head and shoulders one-handed.”
“Hurry, Wild. I hear the ice cracking.”
“I know.”
“Hurry!”
“Lord, woman, I hurt so much can’t tell if I’m dead or alive, let alone hurry.”
“You’re alive, or you wouldn’t feel the pain. You’ll be dead if you don’t hurry.”
“Okay. The rope’s around me.”
Jayla raced back to Rosie, grabbed the bridle and clucked. “Come on, girl. Pull your owner up safe and sound.”
Rosie took one step and Jayla heard the frightening noise. It sounded like thunder, only it wasn’t raining or likely to. She heard Wild’s loud grunt.
“What’s happening?” she called.
“Ice shelf broke.”
The noisy crash of it falling down the mountain side gave her cold chills. Too close. Much too close. She hastened back to the ledge, expecting the worst. Holding her breath, she peeped over the edge. Wild dangled there, hanging in the air, the rope under his armpits. God. He must be in agony.
“Are you okay?”
Dumb, dumb question, but she had to say something.
“Not so much. You wanna put a rush order on it, baby?”
“Yes.”
She beat it back to Rosie. The mare nickered and seemed to know what was expected of her. Gripping her hands, Jayla watched—and waited. She couldn’t breathe. The mare moved forward slowly, slowly until Jayla thought she’d scream. It took forever, but finally, she saw Wild’s dark head rise over the ledge.
“Come on, girl,” she encouraged the mare. “Just a couple more steps and we’ll have him back safe.”
Her eyes
watered when she saw his shoulders rise completely over that rim, watched him crawl away using his uninjured arm to drag himself a safe distance from the ledge. Once he was totally clear Wild slowly turned onto his back. His chest heaved. Tears streaked the corners of his eyes. Blood dripped off the fingertips of his left hand and colored the ice beside him.
Jayla squatted at his side and worked the rope over his head. His poor face. She didn’t think she’d ever seen so many scrapes and bruises in one small area. She couldn’t imagine what the rest of him looked like.
“Do you hurt anywhere else besides your arm?”
“I hurt everywhere, honey.” He wrapped his good hand around her nape and brought her close enough to kiss. His lips felt like a block of ice against hers. She didn’t care. He was alive. She was grateful for that.
He slowly released her. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to do that again.”
“Me neither,” she said, shivering. He’d come so close to dying, too close. She could barely wrap her mind around it. She kept shivering. Jayla thought maybe she was a bit shocky. A cup of hot chocolate would be good about now, even if she was a diabetic. For sure, her heart was just settling down into a normal rhythm again.
Groaning, Wild flopped back on the ice. “I swore the first thing I’d do when I got back here was kiss you.” He closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell with several ragged breaths. “I lost my damn hat.”
Jayla giggled. Not because he’d lost his favorite hat, but because he felt like complaining about the loss.
His eyes popped open. “It’s gone, at the bottom of the ravine.”
“I’ll buy you another one,” she promised, stroking the hair back from his face. “I love you, Wild Remington. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
He gripped her hand with his good one. “Are you okay? The baby?”
“We’re fine. I’m fine. The baby’s fine. An–and—” She burst into tears.
“Aw, hell,” he said and looped his good arm around her shoulders and dragged her close. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m okay. Nothing that a little tequila and a pain pill or two won’t fix.”
