by Shaye Marlow
“Uh…”
“Have Thea give him my number. And tell him to bring the suit,” she added with a yawn.
J.D. stared.
“Sure,” I said, rescuing him. Then I grabbed his arm, and dragged him out of the cabin. “What are we gonna do about them?” I whisper-yelled once the door was closed. “They can’t just run around in Bigfoot suits, riling people up. It’s wrong! And annoying! Because of them, the whole river’s in an uproar.”
“Well, we should probably make sure it actually is them first. I mean, this would be just like something they would do, but Dotty was there for that conversation. And so was Harv.”
“You think one of my grandparents is sneaking around at night, in a Bigfoot suit?”
“Well…”
“Ha! Right,” I said sarcastically. “It was Dotty, in the woods, with a strap-on!”
“I’m just saying,” he said, “the firm, open-palmed ass-slap is not a unique thing. It could have been anybody. Evidence definitely points to my brothers, but they’re not the only ones with penises and hands. Or dildos and hands. Or the money to buy a Bigfoot costume.”
“Fine. But it’s probably them.”
“True,” he admitted.
“We need to confront them, get the truth.”
“Agreed,” he said.
I turned, and started off into the night.
Chapter Seventeen
J.D.
Thea was on a mission, leading the way through the woods to my brothers’ place at a fast march. The light was failing, but even so, the rear view was excellent as I trailed after her. I kept getting whiffs of her shampoo or perfume or whatever sweet, flowery, amazing thing she wore that made me dizzy.
When we were almost there, I decided to pull my mind out of the gutter, and quickly caught up. “So… what do you propose?”
“You said it yourself: You speak their language. You twist their arms and get a confession. Then we spread the word, have them fess up and apologize to the community, and this mess goes away.”
Sounded good to me. I doubted it’d be that simple—it never was—but definitely worth a try.
After the dim shadows of the woods, the light spilling from the cabin windows seemed particularly bright. I didn’t bother knocking; just let myself in, leaving the door open for Thea. “Zack! Rory,” I called. Though every light in the house was on, there was no movement, and no answer.
“Oh, wow,” Thea said, stepping in behind me. Her gaze swept the interior of the cabin, taking in the AstroTurf, the gun racks, the giant moose rack chandelier in front of a massive fireplace, the neon signs over the bar, and multi-colored lighting under. “What’s with the holes in the walls?” she asked.
“Zack and I had a disagreement,” I said, glancing back at her as I headed for the stairs.
“Wow,” she said again, her eyes having flickered only slightly at my admission.
I pounded up the stairs and checked their rooms. “It doesn’t look like they’re home.”
Thea was just emerging from my old room as I started back down. She shook her head. “What about the shop?”
I led the way across the yard. It was black as pitch inside the shop, quiet and cool. I flicked on the lights.
Empty.
“You think they’re still out?” Thea asked.
“Seems that way. Let’s check my cabin, just to make sure they aren’t in there jerking each other off.”
She raised her brows.
“Hey, they are that deep in each other’s pockets,” I said as I moved into the inky shadows behind the cabin. “In fact, they’re probably in there with Wreck, having a three-way.”
“You sound jealous,” she said.
I grunted.
“Lights are out,” she observed.
“You can circle-jerk with the lights out,” I said, putting my hand on the knob as I glanced back at her. “In fact, if you were going to do anything with Wreck, I’d recommend it.”
She laughed as I pushed the door open. “He’s not that bad-looking,” she argued.
“He’s got big ears,” I reminded her, peering into the tiny interior. Black, black, and a slightly lighter black. But, no movement.
“No, he—well… yeah, I guess he sorta does,” she admitted.
“And a ratty face. Narrow, with sharpish teeth.”
“He does not!”
“Oh, yes.” I leaned in to check the toilet nook.
“Nuh-uh.”
I spun around, and Thea almost stumbled into me. “They’re not in here,” I said. It was dark, but not so dark that I couldn’t see her eyes, and the way her lips parted when she looked up at me.
She wanted me. It was written all over her face. And we were finally alone, with a bed. Hallelujah!
I reached for her.
She stepped back.
Dammit.
I glanced out the window, where the yard, though dim, was significantly brighter than the room we stood in. I had a clear view of the area between the darkened forest and my brothers’ cabin. “I have an idea,” I announced.
“Oh?” Her voice was a little breathless.
“We wait for them, catch them in the act,” I said, gesturing to the window. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her neck as she turned to look. Her earrings were swaying, the movement bringing out the predator in me.
“We wait for them… here?” she asked, glancing back at me.
“Yes. We wait, and we watch, and when they show up, I jump them.” But not at all the same way I’d be jumping her. I slid my hands around her, spreading them on her belly, nuzzling that warm, fragrant spot on her neck.
She gasped, her hands coming up to cover mine. “J.D., we need to pay attention. What if they… ohhh, that feels good.”
“Keep an eye out for me,” I murmured, nibbling gently on her shoulder. I tugged her neckline aside so I could get to her skin, and ran my hand up, molding her to me, caressing her breasts. They felt perfect, soft and full and warm. My erection nestled against the upper slope of her butt, making me groan.
The bed. I needed to get her to the bed.
But my hand had a mind of its own. It slid downward, fingers curving between her legs. She was hot there, damp. And god, still wearing that skirt.
My cock throbbed. I caressed her, desperate to hear her sounds again. They started slowly, just an exhale that wanted to be a vowel. She shifted against me, making me want to make my own vowels. Then an “mmmm”, the exact sound she’d made licking that chocolate from her fork. Soon after, she was breathing through her mouth, her head straining back against me as she arched. “Oh, J.D.,” she moaned.
The heat between us threatened to flare out of control. I’d completely forgotten our mission. Or, rather, I was concentrating on another.
I wanted to get into her pants. Needed her naked, pronto. I started to gather up her skirt.
She covered my hand, stopping me. “Did you see that?”
I groaned, trying to use my other hand to turn her head, to guide her mouth to mine. To distract her until I could get her clothes off.
She evaded. “There’s movement out there,” she said. She tugged herself free, and crowded up to the window. “It’s them!” she whispered excitedly. “Well, one of them. Look at that, he’s trying to sneak back in.”
I groaned again. “Thea, we can get them in the morning. Or even, in twenty minutes.”
“J.D.,” she hissed.
“An hour?” I offered.
She shot me an impatient look.
“All right, all right.” I moved in behind her. I intended to look, I really did. But then I took a deep whiff of her hair, and my cock gave an insistent throb. I crowded closer, brushing my lips along the shell of her ear.
She turned in my arms. Her hands came up to my chest, and I was full of anticipation, my mouth already seeking hers as she pulled my head down. I slipped one of my hands inside her shirt, and found the fastening to her bra.
“J.D.,” she said against my lips. Def
initely not kissing me. “Get your ass out there, and get your brother.”
When I didn’t move, a sharp, sudden pain radiated out from my nipple. I kinda liked it… but then she twisted. “Ouch, fine. Fine!” I said, extricating myself. “But then we finish this.”
“Fine. Deal. Hurry up.”
Yes. Honestly, I’d expected a little more of an argument.
Motivated now, I opened the front door and peered out into the shadows. There he was, hunkered low, trying to sneak across the yard. Still wearing his Bigfoot suit, the idiot.
I smiled. He was never gonna know what hit him.
I ran out on fast, silent feet, focused on his furry back. A few feet away, I launched myself into the air—and landed a perfect, powerful kick.
It was a blow meant to knock him flat—and it would have, if ‘he’ were my brother. What I’d kicked had significantly more mass than any of my kin. What whirled around as I landed was not a man at all. In fact, it looked a little like—no, actually, a whole helluva lot like—a goddamn bear.
I’d just kicked a bear in the back.
“Oh, fuck.”
He didn’t roar, or any of the crap they do on TV. He just blinked at me, as though he couldn’t quite believe it either.
And then, he charged.
Instinct took over. I rolled away, regained my feet, and dashed behind a tree. Oh shit, oh shit, went the voice in my head.
His claws took a big chunk outta my tree. Then he roared.
“J.D., what—?” Thea called.
“Get in the cabin!” I yelled.
The bear rounded the tree, and I slammed my elbow down on his snout. It was a move I never could have used in the octagon. As a blow to the head, it would have killed a man.
The bear stumbled back a step, snuffling.
I took my opportunity, and shot across the yard. “Inside!” I yelled. “Go, go!”
It wasn’t until she saw what was after me that she turned around and ran.
I didn’t need to see it. I could hear it; branches crackling as it plowed through the edge of the woods like a bulldozer.
Pushing myself harder, I ran like my life depended on it. Because it did. And, somehow—somehow—I got to that door before the bear got to me.
I pushed Thea inside, yanked the door closed, and threw the lock.
Thea and I stumbled back as the door rattled on its hinges. Thank god it was made of real wood—two nice, thick layers of it—because I knew that bear would’ve gone right through one of those chintzy hollow-core models.
The jury was still out on the cabin, though. The whole thing shook as that monster hit. I could hear it snuffling on the other side of the door. And then it was moving, its faint noises circling.
THEA
“That was a bear,” I said.
“Yeah,” said J.D. “It is.”
I wondered if he even knew he had me cinched to his side. We turned together, tracking its sounds as it circled the cabin.
“You kicked a bear!” I covered my mouth, which was open somewhere between a shocked smile and absolute horror.
“Yeah. I did.” And it was still out there, looking for a weakness in our defenses. Stalking us.
“I think you pissed it off,” I observed.
He didn’t comment.
“Wait.” A hideous thought had just struck me. “A bear… You don’t think Mitzi…” I couldn’t say it, and as I looked up at him, I felt myself turning red.
Despite the angry bear outside, J.D.’s lips quirked. “I really don’t think a bear’d’ve given her a firm slap on the ass when it was done,” he said dryly.
Sure. Of course. I really shouldn’t have said anything. Back to the situation at hand: “Well… shouldn’t we get a gun, or—”
“I don’t have a gun,” he whispered back.
“What? Why not?” He’d had one a few days ago, had said he had several.
“I don’t usually need one. And all the guns are in Zack and Rory’s cabin,” he explained.
“Which is fifty feet away,” I said.
“Yup.”
The door rattled again.
“Well, what do we do?” That bear was out there, and it wanted in.
“I think, if we’re really quiet, it’ll eventually forget us, and go away.”
Sounded iffy to me. “Do you think we should—I dunno—call someone?”
“Who, like my fuckup brothers? They’d probably shoot us.”
“Or, Pierre—”
J.D. growled. “Pierre can take a flying leap, for all I care.”
“Or Lane, even—”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“Oh.”
“Shhh,” he said, putting his hand over my mouth. “The quieter we are, the sooner that bear will leave.”
I pinched him, just to let him know I didn’t appreciate being shushed.
He chuckled, a low, deep, delicious sound that made butterflies alight in my belly. It also made me realize how close we were. He was hard and warm, and smelled like sin. I could ditch my day job and make my millions, bottling that. I breathed a nice big lungful of eau de J.D., and sighed.
“That’s it,” he said softly. He released my mouth. Then he found my wrists, and pulled my arms forward, one and then the other, and deposited them around his waist.
“I can’t believe you kicked a bear,” I muttered into his chest.
“I can’t, either,” he confided in my ear. His hands rubbed up my back, and between their warm, gentle stroking, and his heady scent, our perilous situation was no longer foremost in my mind.
“We should sit,” I suggested. “You know, get away from the window.”
It was bullshit—total bullpucky, and we both knew it—but I wanted more of him, wanted to finish what we’d started. There was a bear out there, yes, but the walls were holding, the door was locked, and I knew that if the bear did somehow make it through, J.D.’d save my bacon. I had faith in him, even without a gun, or a phone, or any solid escape route.
When he sat on that bottom bunk, those blue, blue eyes glittering in the darkness, I followed. I stepped close, and accepted the hand he held out. Our fingers tangled. My body swayed.
Then, just as when we’d danced, he gave me a gentle tug. He maintained eye contact as I climbed astride his lap, and as I moved closer, until our mouths were a bare inch apart. I nipped his bottom lip, and made him groan.
In the dark, barely able to see each other, every sensation felt heightened. His hands sliding up my thighs sent shivery ripples up my torso. I rubbed my lips over his, enjoying his taste, the silk of his lips and scrape of his stubble, the rub of my nose against his.
He pulled me in, and our kiss deepened into a heated caress. His head tilted, and his tongue teased mine. I thought I could stay like this forever, tangled with him in the dark.
My bra suddenly loosened, and his hands slid around my ribcage to take the weight of my breasts. I shuddered as those fighter’s hands mapped my soft, sensitive flesh. Shivers traveled over my skin at the light skim of his fingertips, and a deeper heat tugged when he found my hardened nipple, as his callused fingertip scraped across the sensitive bud.
I trembled as my lower belly tightened. As he stroked me, as he kissed me, a chorus of individual throbs blended into one full-bodied ache. Need finally got the better of me, and I fumbled at his fly.
He fell back with a groan. “Please tell me you’re not gonna stop,” he breathed.
“Not this time,” I promised as I slid my hand into his pants, and over the rough warmth of his pubic hair. When my hand wrapped around him, his eyes rolled back in his head.
I stroked him, listening to the way his breath hitched and hissed, finding the places, the touches that made his hands grasp at my thighs. His shadowed face both softened with pleasure, and tightened with lust.
His hips flexed, lifting me. My pussy caught fire, seeing what I did to him, feeling what he could do to me. I wished he were inside me, wished I could feel that strong mov
ement from the inside.
My hips picked up a rhythm, rubbing me over him. I squeezed my tingling breasts. “I want your mouth on me,” I said breathlessly. I caught the hem of my shirt. Hesitated, thinking about the bear. “You won’t let me die topless, will you?”
His teeth flashed. “No. I won’t let anyone—or anything—hurt you,” he said with absolute sincerity.
I ripped off my shirt, and shrugged off my bra. And his mouth was there. I buried my fingers in his hair, and clutched him close as he took my breath away. Fire spread outward from where he sucked my breast. His mouth was everywhere, tongue circling my areola, tracing wider and wider. Then back in, until it tripped across my nipple.
I threw my head back on a moan, letting him support me.
He growled. “That spot on your neck.” With another animal sound, he rolled me under him. He did it quickly and gracefully, with the total control that only a wrestler could achieve.
“This,” he said as his hips settled more firmly against me. He brushed my hair away from my neck. “This spot. These fucking earrings.”
I gasped, confused. “You don’t like my earrings?”
“I love them,” he growled. “They drive me crazy.” Then my earlobe was in his mouth, earring and all. He tugged gently, and I arched, rubbing my hardened nipples into his firm chest. Cool air replaced his mouth, and then that luscious heat was moving farther down. He nudged my chin to the side, and devoured my vulnerable neck.
I cried out, never having had something quite like that done to me. He answered with a long, firm thrust. Shivers erupted on every inch of my body, from the roots of my hair all the way to my toenails.
He reared back suddenly and pulled off his shirt. He used a bit more delicacy dealing with my skirt, but I heard seams rip when he yanked off his pants.
J.D. paused for just a moment before coming back to me. As he took me in, his eyes sweeping from my face all the way down to the spot between my splayed legs, the meager light filtering in through the window highlighted all those hard muscles. He had the physique of a god. Of Michelangelo’s David. Or of, you know, an underwear model—except he’d ditched his with the pants.
