by Joya Ryan
“Of course,” she said. “But these are my favorite.” She went back to wiping off the boot, and Dex’s head was on the verge of exploding. He knew women like her. Rich, uptown, and uptight. He’d never met her personally, but it was clear this woman was not small town or into getting dirty other than for a romanticized night at a time. And Dex would know, because he played that part well. The one night at a time part. Come to think of it, he played the dirty part well, too.
Dex was the bastard son of Talcom LeRoy, a rich name with a rich family. Dex didn’t know any of them. Including ol’ pop himself. Since it was a small town, though, everyone knew his father and his mother and the scandal of Dex’s birth thirty years ago. But time had passed, and people had moved on. Literally. His father lived with his “real” family in Savannah, and the rest was history. His mother was still in Beaufort. Living in the same small trailer Dex had grown up in.
No matter how many times Dex tried to get her a new place to live, she stayed right where she was, saying that she was happy with her lot in life, which was at the poverty line. Not that Dex actually let her live like that. She could be stubborn and keep her trailer, but he paid all her bills and made sure she wanted for nothing. Taking care of her was what he did. Hell, it was also what he did for a living. Because sometimes, people couldn’t take care of themselves, which was where Dex came in. He was determined to help people learn how to be independent. At the end of the day, the best thing that could happen was he’d become obsolete, and they’d discard him. In his eyes, that meant he’d done his job and shown them how to truly take care of themselves.
Which was why he took his job and his life seriously. He wanted his mother, his friends, everyone, to be independent. And he made a living teaching just that. Trekking around with socialites who wouldn’t know poison oak from tree bark was frustrating. Because they were never looking to learn or survive. They were looking for a good time in an outdoor scene. But he kept doing it, because it was all worth it when that one in a thousand students came to class truly needing his help.
The wealthy were a different breed. Always had been. Especially wealthy women. Dex had learned quickly as a teenager that women only wanted him as a novelty item. He was “a bad boy from good stock,” and whenever the debutantes of town wanted to piss off their daddies, they came calling on Dex. He was good enough for a night of wild fun, down and dirty, maybe even a prom date here and there. But never more. Never serious.
Which was fine with him. Because he knew exactly how Perfect-Ass Barbie in front of him operated before she even opened her mouth. Her designer clothes and upscale attitude were a dead giveaway.
“Well, let’s get going then. We have over three miles to hike and camp to set before dark, so we need to hustle.” He looked her over once more and adjusted his belt slightly. Not because his dick was being a dick and deciding to get hard just from looking at her. Okay, maybe that was why. He might know her kind—poor little rich girl looking for “an experience” to blog about later—but goddamn it, she was gorgeous. Fresh and so soft looking that he wanted to touch her milky skin and taste those plump berry lips.
She didn’t have to try. She was delicate. All woman. And exactly his type. Which was the wrong type. But he’d gotten lost in women like her before. And it was during those times he felt a little less lower class and a little more dominant.
“I’d suggest getting your jacket and putting on your hiking shoes,” he said.
She frowned and adjusted her bright blue bag on her shoulder. “These are my hiking boots,” she said. “Well, actually they’re Jimmy Choo booties from last fall’s catalog, but they’re really comfortable.”
Dex raised a brow at her saying those shoes were “comfortable.”
“You ever walk for longer than thirty minutes in them?”
She didn’t say anything, he knew the answer to that.
“Jacket,” he repeated. “Put it on. Now.”
She smiled and opened her purse— It was a purse, just a rather large one. She pulled out a light white sweater complete with pearl buttons.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.
“What?” She looked down the front of herself. “It’s not hot out. And this is light and breathable.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “It’s going to get cold in the next few hours, princess. We’re out here all night, remember?” He shook his head. “Look, why don’t we just call this quits. I’m sure I can get you a refund before you get yourself into something you won’t enjoy.”
He could get his training hours a different way, even if pulling out would bring him sizable amounts of hell from Gage. But come on. Anyone could see that this woman was not meant for the great outdoors.
Except her auburn brow furrowed, and he saw something flash in her eyes that made him take a step back. It was fierce and determined. More than he’d seen in any other woman.
“I can manage just fine,” she said. “I brought all the supplies I need to survive, just like Gage told me, and I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”
She rummaged through her purse, and Dex saw flashes of aisle twelve at the Bass Pro Shop lining her bag. Christ, was that fishing lure and an inflatable life vest?
“We’re not getting in the water,” he informed her.
She clearly saw him eyeing the contents of her bag. She raised her chin. “The store clerk told me everything I needed for surviving the wilderness. I’m prepared for anything.”
He barely restrained a chuckle, but he still felt it in his gut.
This was worse than he thought. Still, he faked an annoyed smiled and said, “Super.” Fighting with her would get him nowhere. She wanted to test him? No problem. He just had to outlast her, and when she was ready to cave, he’d get her back to her car. And she would cave. “Let’s head out then.”
As he took off in the direction of the camp point, he heard Perfect-Ass Barbie huffing and struggling behind him in those “boots” of hers. He flexed his hands thinking of her cleavage encased in that “light and breathable” sweater.
And he was stuck with her all night.
He was going to kill Gage.
Chapter Two
Michelle wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and tried to tamp down her panting. Hiking through the wilderness was putting her Pilates video to shame. She didn’t appreciate the attitude she was getting from the overgrown G.I. Joe. She also didn’t appreciate that she’d been walking behind him for the past hour and a half, and all she could focus on was his obscenely nice butt.
The thing daunted her. Every time she looked up, there it was. Hard and perfect, those tactile, dark pants hugging him in all the right spots. His biceps didn’t seem to care that a shirt was trying to contain them. Instead, they just bulged out, like nothing, not even that pathetic cotton, could hold them.
Her whole balance shook, like there was an earthquake happening inside her. The man was fine. Beyond fine. So fine that she’d lost her center, and when she took another step forward, she stumbled and barely caught herself.
“Shoot,” she said and righted herself.
She was staring at his ass when she should have been focused on staying upright. Now he probably thought she was helpless. Look at her, the girl can’t even walk straight.
“You’re going to bust an ankle walking in those,” he said over his shoulder.
“I’m fine,” she replied.
She knew this would be difficult, but that was part of the adventure, right? It wasn’t like she was going to starve, die, or be traumatized for living one night outside. And this only got her closer to checking off crucial items on her To Do list. She wouldn’t fail this mission and run back to her car. She’d see this through. Just like she’d see her own business through. Just like she’d establish a great life in this small town that was all her own. Because it was hers for the taking. Now if only she could just…succeed.
G.I. Joe just shook his head and continued on. He had a backpack not much bi
gger than her purse, which gave her hope that she’d brought just enough to manage the night in the woods. And she did have her essentials. This was an adventure after all. A step toward the independence she craved. And she would stay positive and take in every moment.
When the wind kicked up, she buttoned two pearls and hoped it wouldn’t get much colder…
“Let’s set up camp for the night here,” he said when they reached a small clearing surrounded by thick trees and low hanging branches.
She wanted to say, “Oh, thank God.” Because her feet were killing her. She made a mental note to write to Jimmy Choo and let him know the “sexy sleek black bootie meant for the rugged vixen in all of us” was misleading.
“You know, you never told me your name,” she asked, coming to stand next to the hulking man.
He shucked off his pack, the tight black T-shirt pulling even tighter over some seriously cut chest muscles, and her dry mouth watered instantly.
“Dex,” he said, hitting her with a dark green gaze she couldn’t look away from. His brown hair was slightly disarrayed. Many men strove for that careless yet crafted hairstyle with product, but it was clear Dex just woke up and rolled out of bed. Effortless hotness. Paired with his strong jaw shadowed with stubble, he had “sexy commander” down pat.
“I’m Michelle,” she said with a smile. When she reached out her hand to shake his, her ankle caught on a tree root. She barely cut off a wince of pain from her pinkie toe pinching inside her boot.
He caught her by taking her hand, and the way he effortlessly righted her made her feel even more embarrassed. To his credit, he didn’t make anything of it, just cupped her hand in a firm shake. His hand was rough, skin marred with callouses, and she liked the way they scratched against her palms.
Instead of shaking it and offering some manners and a kind smile, he turned her hand so he could examine it.
His thumb pressed over her fingernail as he looked at the pink polish covering it.
“Have you ever been outside?” he asked with disbelief as he kept examining her hands.
“Do you have a reason you keep asking me obvious questions?” she countered.
He just shrugged and let her hand drop like it was nothing more than an old beer can.
“Just not sure why someone like you is doing this when it’s clear you’ve never been dirty in your life.”
“I’m dirty!” she shot out. When he hit her with an amused grin, she folded her lips together and scrambled to rephrase.
“Ah, princess, I think you want to be dirty. And that’s why you seek out experiences like this.” He took a step toward her. The underbrush beneath his boots crunched, and her blood surged hotter. “But I don’t think you really have what it takes to get honest to God filthy.”
She swallowed hard and kept eye contact. Normally, in her four-inch heels, she’d be eye to eye with a man. Not Dex. She still had to look up, which meant the man towered over six-foot-two. Matched with all those hard muscles, his presence did a number on her bravado.
“I am looking for an experience,” she admitted. “And it’s my understanding that I’m paying you to give me one.”
A heated green flare lit up behind his eyes. She instantly wanted to call back her words. God, she sounded like the stuck-up people she grew up around. But Dex was playing hard ball. Trying to crack her defenses, and this was important. She had to make it through the night. Show him she could handle herself, handle adventure. Step outside her comfort zone and still thrive.
She had to.
Because the reality of all the things she was lacking was getting harder to bear. If she couldn’t even finish tonight, how could she finish all the other goals she had in life?
She shook her head, dislodging the thoughts, and put her game face back on.
“You want an experience?” he rasped, getting so close she could feel his breath hit her mouth. She couldn’t help but lick her lips and taste the residual minty, masculine taste of his nearness. “Let’s start with something basic.”
He took a step back and crossed his arms. With his feet spread wide, his stance was saying, I’m towering over you, ready to judge your skill. And there was no way she’d fail.
“Fine, what’s the first test?” she asked, ready to prove him wrong.
“Today in Gage’s class, you should have learned that using your surroundings to your advantage was key.”
She nodded in agreement. There had been a whole segment on that. One she’d taken notes on furiously. Oh, she was so going to ace this!
“Yes,” she said with excitement, then bent and retrieved her notebook from her purse. She flicked through the book, bypassing the various To Do lists—when Gage’s finger stopped her mid-page turn. She looked down and saw which list his finger landed on:
To Do List: Sexual Fantasy Edition
“My, my, princess. You color coordinate all your fantasies?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. There was a long list of various acts she wanted to try. Everything from sex outdoors to kissing a stranger. Some more risqué than others. Some very, very risqué. Which was why she’d highlighted those in red and the softer ones in blue.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she said with her best sense of calm, and she quickly flipped to the pages of notes she’d taken during Gage’s class. “Ah, here is what we’re looking for,” she said, finally coming to the lecture about survival.
“We can go back to that list of yours instead,” Dex said, making the heat in her cheek double.
Instead of acknowledging him, she just started reading her notes. “Anything around you could be used as a weapon or tool for survival. The only limit is your imagination,” she said verbatim.
Dex grabbed the notebook and tossed it on the ground. “I get that you’re a teacher’s pet, but focus on my voice.”
She frowned but did as he said. For some reason, showing him that she could complete this little mission of wilderness training was important. If only to shove it in his smug, way too handsome face later. Man, if she could get a man like Dex’s respect, that would be the icing on this cake of crap she’d been dealing with.
“Look around you,” he said. “What could you use as a tool?”
“Well…” She glanced around, and then her eyes landed back on him. “I see a giant tool standing in front of me.”
His chin dropped, and his folded arms squeezed together tighter. “Cute. Too bad this tool won’t help you survive tonight Miss I-can-handle-the-wilderness-in-my-sweater-set.”
“It’s not a set. It’s a cardigan,” she snapped back. “And maybe if you stop being so grouchy and actually teach me something, we could be better friends.”
He scoffed. “I’m not looking to be your friend, princess. My job is to make sure you can keep yourself alive if you ever did find yourself in a situation like this.”
That admission hit home. He was trying to help her. Teach her something. Clearly he was capable at what he did. Likely good at it. She wondered how many people he’d saved in the past.
“Forgive me,” she said, apologizing for her earlier comment. “I’m ready to learn.”
He looked at her, like he was half in disbelief, then his shoulders relaxed a touch. When he spoke again, his voice was less gruff.
“Find me a tool you could use and explain how it would help you in the situation you’re in right now.”
She looked around quickly, then bent down and picked up a little stick and held it out with pride.
“This could be the start of a shelter,” she said. “Or maybe I could—” she stabbed the air “—defend myself against an animal or something with it?”
He pursed his sinfully sexy and full lips together. And without warning, he snatched the stick and broke it in half.
“That’s not stable enough for shelter or as a weapon. You couldn’t fight off a butterfly, much less an animal.”
Okay, that got her anger rising again.
“Then this,” she declared, picking up so
me foliage. “If you mix it with some mud or water, then you can make a clay substance and build a shelter.”
He patted the underside of her hand, causing her to drop the grassy muck. “Water is precious out here. You need it to drink. You don’t know when you’ll be found or how long you’ll be lost. Don’t waste a drop.”
She glared at him. He was being hard on her on purpose, and she’d had just about enough.
“Now,” he said sternly. “What tool could you use to really help your situation right now?” he repeated.
And then it hit her.
He was a tool, and she could use him.
She could also take the opportunity to check off one thing from her sexy list.
She grabbed the back of his neck, tugged him down, and planted her lips on his. He was tense, obviously shocked, and so was she. She never would have thought she could be so brazen. But “kissing a stranger” was on her docket of things to do. So she stood there. Clutching him and keeping her mouth right against his until…
He opened and traced his tongue against the seam of her lips. With a smile, she opened for him as well, and that was all the cue he seemed to need. Because he wrapped both strong arms around her, grabbing her ass and dragging her into his hard body, kissing her like he was the only air she’d get tonight.
Her whole body felt on fire, and every touch he gave made her even hotter.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling a little, just enough to get out some of the aggression that had built in her. When he danced his tongue against hers, she took the kiss farther and plunged hard into his mouth until their teeth clanged, and she gasped.
The man could kiss.
Hot, wild, and just a little dirty.
Like he was.
Like this whole situation was.
And it was exactly what she’d been looking for.
When he sucked the tip of her tongue, then pulled her bottom lip between his two, she saw stars.
Focus…
Reluctantly, she pulled back, and both of them seemed a little unsteady.
“There,” she said breathlessly. “I used the tools I had to shut you up, which makes my situation better.” She glanced down at the impressive rod tenting his pants. “And it would appear I improved your situation, too.”
