Retreat (The Getaway Series Book 1)

by Jay Crownover

  He shot to his feet and gave the straps one last tug that had me slamming into the immovable wall of his chest. My hands flattened against the hard muscle and my fingers curled into my palms as I felt the way his heart was racing. “In case you’re wondering, I happen to like annoying and mouthy. When a woman doesn’t have anything to say that means there’s trouble brewing, and you find yourself blindsided when she finally does tell you what’s bothering her. By then, it’s too late to fix things. Now go have the good time you’re paying a fortune for and maybe when you don’t smell like the inside of a medicine cabinet, I’ll forget my better judgment and make this a vacation you remember forever.” He plopped a helmet on my head and tightened the strap under my slackened jaw before turning to face the rocks.

  I yelped, not only from the shock of his words, but from the soft tug that followed them as he pulled on the end of one of my pigtails. I blinked up at him in question as I grabbed the safety rope and turned to look up at the vertical rock face in front of me. It was a gentle gesture, something soft, like he knew I was a nervous wreck and could use the soothing. I didn’t want to do this. But the fact that I didn’t want to it because I was scared was exactly why I put a booted foot on the first foothold that Cy pointed out and hauled myself up. There literally was nowhere for me to run. All I could do was face my fear. This entire trip had been me being forced to do just that.

  It took me a long time to reach the pinnacle. Way longer than it took the kids and Em. It took longer than it probably should have because when I was only halfway up, Lane offered to take the rest of the group down to the river to go fishing. Everyone left except Em, who stayed to cheer me on. I slipped a few times as I worked my way up, and each time I almost called down for Cy to come and get me or to help me down by releasing the rope, but I didn’t. I bit back the terror and slowly but surely found the next place for my hands and feet to go. Slow and steady I pulled myself back up and found the next foothold.

  What felt like hours later, I reached the top and I almost cried. From the way Em was shrieking and dancing around below me, I was pretty sure she may have shed a tear. And even up as high as I was, I could see the white slash of a grin cut across Cy’s face. It wasn’t quite a smile but it was close and it did something sweet and hot to my heart to know that me conquering this hurdle, no matter how small it may have been, made him not quite happy, but something close to that.

  From the top, I let out a victorious whoop and threw my arms out. I was embracing this new side of myself and I owed Emrys more than I could ever repay for introducing me to this whole other side of the woman I was. This was the woman I needed to be in order to get over my own insecurities. It took climbing a rock and venturing into the unknown for me to figure that out. Lane was right, the city made it way too easy to ignore some of the quieter things in life that I really should be focusing on. The country life and all of its serenity allowed me to hear a lot of unsaid things that were tumbling around in my own head, words that were shouting to be heard, words that I’d chosen to ignore for too long. I was figuring out that I could survive this upheaval in my life and I was doing it one challenge—one hurdle—at a time.

  “Hey, Leo, come on back down. We need to saddle up and head to the campsite for the night. There’s a shower waiting for you.” I looked down at Cy and gave him a nod as he walked me through the easiest way to rappel back down without scraping my knees and palms all to hell. Before I descended, I took one last long look at the awe-inspiring landscape. Miles of trees and rivers painting the mountains green and blue. It was unspoiled and pure as far as the eye could see. At least it was until my gaze caught on a weird void in the tree line way up the river. It looked like a meteor had dropped from the sky and left a huge empty spot in the thick and lush foliage. I thought it was strange and I meant to ask Cy what it was, but as soon as my boots hit the ground I was engulfed in a hug that made me forget. It was a hug that almost made up for all the hugs I missed from my mom growing up, for all the hugs that were nothing more than lies that came from Chris. And it was from the one person I wasn’t expecting to ever hug.

  Cyrus Warner hugged hard. His arms were tight. His body was massive and warm where it engulfed mine. The way he squeezed me was anything but gentle. His voice was low and raspy in my ear as he told me, “You were scared and you did it anyway. Proud of you.” His arms tightened a fraction, then he let me go so that Em’s arms could replace his as she wrapped me up in a much softer embrace.

  I was right about Em’s crying for me. She had shiny eyes but her smile was bright and I could see both pride and relief mixed with equal fervor in her dark gaze. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Leo.”

  I moved back so I could pull the helmet off and shake out my hair. “I’m pretty proud of me, too.” But there was no denying that having Cy’s approval, and now Em’s, made me feel like I had tackled something bigger than a mountain.

  She laughed and let me use her to brace myself as I worked the harness off my legs. “Just think how many more amazing experiences we’re going to have by the end of the week. There won’t be anything we can’t handle by the time we get back home.”

  Little did we know then how those experiences would ultimately shape the rest of our lives. Those experiences would change the women we were and the way we loved. There was no running from any of that either.

  The rest of the day passed with less excitement and with no unexpected wakeup calls in the middle of the night. Day three brought another long ride, but also a little reprieve from the saddle when we got to go canoeing on a beautiful mountain lake. It was so crystal clear and unendingly blue that I could see all the way to the bottom to watch the occasional fish swim by. The water was as cold as the snow runoff that fed it, and I was tempted to jump in and scrub the smell of three days of riding, sweat, sunscreen, and bug spray off, even though we had a shower waiting later that night. I held off though because Em was actually starting to wilt. She was no longer as fresh as a daisy either, so I was feeling less self-conscious about my transformation into the Pioneer Woman.

  The lazy day on the lake was followed by a ride into an actual campsite that was maintained by the Wyoming Parks department, which meant there was a real grill, actual campsites, and minimal facilities for us to use for the evening. They weren’t five-star accommodations by any stretch of the imagination, but to me the camp looked like The Ritz-Carlton and I almost kissed Lane when he told me we were having chili for dinner instead of fish. I liked fresh fish, and there was something very primal and cool about catching and eating your own dinner, but after two days of nothing but trout, PB&J, and granola, I was ready for something different. I would have preferred Brynn’s pancakes, but since they weren’t an option, canned chili and campfire cornbread would do.

  I wanted to push everyone else out of the way and dive into the rusted and slightly scary looking showers, but I figured I would take the longest, since I was the one who smelled the worst, and because my hair had really turned into the wild and untamed lion’s mane Lane accused me of having. I offered to help the younger Warner brother with dinner while everyone else was shuffling around getting settled and cleaned up. Cy pulled his typical disappearing act and when I questioned Lane about it, he laughed and told me it was better to let Cy handle the horses than try and force him to interact with humans. Both brothers were still on edge after the midnight gunshots, but Lane effortlessly slipped back into his happy-go-lucky persona, while Cy seemed hypervigilant and overly aware of every noise and sound that we didn’t make on the trail. So far, we hadn’t encountered anyone else or been surprised by anything unexpected. While the silence made me breathe easier when we bunked down for the night, the absence of anyone or anything else appeared to make the two men who didn’t bother to engage with the rest of us angry. Their expressions were hard. Their conversations with each other clipped and silted. One or the other was always wandering off away from the rest of the group and when they returned it was with heavy footsteps and lots of mumbl
ed dirty words. They continually brushed off the warning that Cy and Lane gave about sticking together and didn’t seem at all interested in any of the required camping activities. It was as if they were expecting something else, and were searching for something they couldn’t find. Though what they could possibly be looking for out here in the middle of nowhere baffled me.

  When everyone settled down to eat, looking refreshed and slightly back to their normal, non-trail riding selves, I asked Em to save me dinner and took myself, my small toiletry bag, and a change of clothes clutched in my eager hands to the shower. The whole time I walked to the tin and wood building, I told myself this wasn’t Camp Crystal Lake and there wasn’t any chance that a chainsaw-wielding Jason was going to jump out from behind a tree and slaughter me. It was creepy—or maybe that was my mind making more of this scenario than it should. When I opened the door, I quickly learned that it was also a his and hers facility. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust in the dim light, but when they did, they landed on the most stunning thing I had ever seen in my life. A very naked and very wet Cyrus Warner. There was no mistaking that massive, hard-cut body, or the midnight hair shot through with shiny silver. Water sluiced over unending plains of muscle and tanned skin making him look like some ancient sea god . . . or like a real life fantasy, even if he wasn’t quite a cowboy. He was built for women to worship and for other men to be impressed by. I swore there wasn’t a finer ass on the planet than the one I couldn’t seem to look away from, even as the muscles flexed and tensed as he turned to look over his shoulder at me.

  He had one hand braced on the wall in front of him and he lifted his raven-colored eyebrows as that not quite a smile pulled at his mouth again. His scruff was quickly shifting to more of an actual beard and I kind of loved how overtly masculine everything about him was. There was no missing his virility or his in-your-face masculinity. I never thought I was the kind of girl who went weak in the knees for big muscles and a bossy demeanor. Turns out my libido thought very differently. I took another shaky step forward when he told me, “I’m doing what I was getting ready to do before you walked in, but now I don’t need to use my imagination since you’re standing right there.” I faltered to a stop at his words and licked my lips as his hand leisurely slipped up and down his erection. I’d never seen a man touch himself in such an intimate manner before and I’d definitely never had one tell me I was the inspiration he was using to get off with. It felt private and secretive in a good way. It felt like a moment that was mine and his. I never really thought of myself as masturbation material but Cy was proving me wrong and he was proving it while turning me into a blazing pillar of arousal and need.

  “Are you imagining me because you like redheads and I just happen to be a redhead?” I was breathing shallow and deep, want and desire laced in my tone as I got even closer to him. I was close enough now that I could see the way his ab muscles tensed, the way the slit on the head of his rigid cock glimmered with aroused moisture. I groaned aloud when he stroked the flat of his thumb over that taunting drop and swirled it around the tapered head. He let out a grunt and our eyes locked as his broad chest rose and fell with his quickened breathing.

  “I don’t like all redheads, Leo. Don’t let my brother fill your head with nonsense when he’s spilling my secrets. The redheads I do like, I tend to more than like.” His hand moved faster and faster as he head fell back with a groan. His eyes drifted shut and his other hand curled into a fist at his side, the other in front of him rocking back and forth at a leisurely pace at his waist. My mind immediately went to all the dirty and sexy things that pose and that particular motion could mean. I knew what I wanted it to mean, so all I could do was gawk and try to remember to breathe. I forgot about the stuff in my hands as I lifted one to my thundering heart, the other to my throat, where I was pretty sure his name was trapped there on a strangled sigh.

  He twisted at the waist and I couldn’t hold back a painfully aroused and shocked groan. He stopped before I got the full-frontal image but he was turned enough that I could see the heavy muscles in his chest and the light dusting of dark hair that covered his pecs. The man had more than a six pack working and that V at his hips wasn’t just cut in on the side of his abs, it was chiseled there because he looked like he was crafted and designed by a Renaissance sculptor. The entire female population would descend on Wyoming in droves if they knew men like this were hidden away out here in the middle of nowhere.

  “’Bout time you made your way over here. You need a shower twice as much as the rest of them.” He pushed his big hands through his wet hair and slicked the dark strands away from his face. I wanted to lick every single droplet of water off him, especially the ones that were sliding down the column of his strong throat. I watched his jaw clench and a twitch start in his cheek as I continued to stare at him numbly. I felt like I was seeing for the first time what a man, a real, true, and honest to God man should look like. I was mesmerized by the strong lines of his back, the strong bulk of his thighs, and the chiseled line of his jaw as he watched me watch him.

  “I helped Lane with dinner since I knew I was going to be a while, so I thought I would go last.” My voice was high and breathy to my own ears and when I looked down at my hands, they were shaking. I wanted to touch him so bad.

  “Oh, so she can be charming and pleasant when she wants to be.” He turned back around and suddenly the water turned off. “Bring me that towel over there and I’ll get out of your way so you can do us all a favor and wash the stink off.”

  I didn’t move for a long minute because I was stuck on the fact he called me charming, just like he’d told me I was pretty and that I had a nice ass. I wasn’t used to someone being that upfront with me and I wasn’t used to those kinds of compliments. I was jerked out of my lust-filled stupor when he suddenly turned all the way around and I was introduced to ALL of Cyrus Warner in his magnificent and erect glory. My jaw unhinged and my breath wheezed out of my lungs. I knew I should look away but I couldn’t. Like everything else about him, his cock was impressive in size and seemed more solid and real than any I had seen before it. I’d also never really considered that part of the male anatomy particularly appealing. I mean, I liked what they could do with it and the purpose that it served, but I had no desire to stare at a penis for any length of time, until Cy’s. I couldn’t stop staring at it and I definitely thought that part of him was as attractive as the rest of him. I wanted to put my hands on it. I wanted to put my mouth on it. I wanted him to put his hands on it while I watched.

  I stuck my tongue out and slicked it across my lower lip while I continued to admire him, like he was some priceless work of art hung in the Louvre. My feet still wouldn’t move from where they seemed to be planted to the ground beneath them.

  “Leo, bring me the towel or get over here and put that tongue to better use.” His already deep voice dropped even lower and rasped even rougher as he answered my silent plea and dropped one of his hands to the rigid shaft that was pointing straight up at his corrugated stomach muscles. I sighed softly as he slid his grip slowly up and down.

  Pleasure looked rough on him. It made the veins on the side of his neck stick out and flushed his face a dark shade of red. His thigh muscles bulged and his torso went tight and taut. There was power in every line of his big body and desire leeched out of every part of him. His breathing was harsh, loud, and erratic against the tin walls. I swore I was on the verge of my own orgasm simply by watching him chase his own. His cock slipped easily in out of his grip as his forearm jacked up and down. There was a breathless moment, a stillness when his eyes popped back open and met mine. He didn’t say my name but it was on his lips anyway as the thick and creamy threads of his release jetted out and smeared across his thick knuckles and hit the rusted wall in front of him.

  I wanted him to come on me that way, mark me up and claim me in a way that was as wild and as untamed as the area we were in. I wanted to tell him he could come on my ass, on my tits, on my stomach . .
. anywhere he wanted to, as long as he was the one making me his. I’d never let anyone do anything remotely close to that in bed before. In fact, I was typically the girl on top kind of lover so I could get mine and go home, but this man had me wanting all kinds of things that I had never wanted before.

  He turned to crank the water up so he could wash away the evidence of his little . . . well, not so little . . . show, and when his back was to me I finally made it all the way to him so that I could hand him the towel. When he turned back to me our eyes met, his blazing, mine full of more questions than I’d had before.

  “What does that mean, you more than like most of the redheads you like?” He took the towel and rubbed it over his hair first, then across his chest. It wasn’t until he got to his waist and had it wrapped around his hips that he answered me.

  “My mom was a redhead. She broke my dad’s heart a hundred times and left my brothers and me every chance she got because this life was not for her. We always let her come back. I loved her anyway, because she’s my mom and because my dad worshiped her. My ex-wife is a redhead. I met her in college and it was love at first sight. She only broke my heart once, but it was enough that I never intend to repeat the experience.” I felt my eyes go wide at his curt description of the most important women in his life. I was also struggling with the fact that a woman had had him and was brave enough to let him go. I wondered if the woman woke up every morning kicking her own ass for not being able to make it work with a man like Cy.