by Nina West
Great. He remembers my name.
“Certainly.” Belinda’s eyes haven’t left his face the entire time. How did she get appointed hotel manager? She clearly isn’t the right person to enforce a business-attire dress code.
His heavy gaze settles on me. “Does that work for you?”
My head bobs up and down. “Yes. Thank you, so much. I appreciate it. Mr. Wolf.”
A glimmer of mischief briefly dances across his face and then vanishes. “We’ll see.”
I hold my breath as he strolls away, heading for the elevators.
With a quick nod toward Belinda, who is now glaring daggers at me, I spin on my heels and head back toward the training session, Tillie hot on my heels.
“What was that all about?” she hisses.
“I’m not sure. But I think he’s trying to help me get a job in Outdoor.”
“Oh. My. Lord. That man is somethin’ else,” she hisses.
I release the lung’s worth of air. “Yes, he is. He seems nice enough, at least.” I asked him if he thought I was pretty. Ugh! He avoided answering that, which is answer enough.
“What I’d do to be assigned to his room,” she purrs. “I’d crawl through his sheets and—”
“He’s our boss!”
“Hell, like you wouldn’t.”
“I wouldn’t! You’re not allowed to, anyway! Didn’t you read the policy handbook?”
She snorts. “There ain’t nothin’ about getting off in the boss’s sheets.”
I flush at the thought.
“Well, it’s not like either of us is gonna get the chance. Guys like him stay for the opening and then hop in their helicopter and jet off to bigger and better things. He’ll be gone in a few days.”
I glance over my shoulder in time to see him pressing the Up elevator button, his suit hugging his muscular frame in all the right places. He seems oblivious or indifferent to Rachel and another girl ogling him from behind the bar, where they’re setting up bottles of alcohol.
“Really? I figured he’d stay. It sounded like this place was special to him.” The thought of him leaving so soon disappoints me. Not that it matters in my little world. As much as I’d love to believe otherwise, a guy like that has no interest in a twenty-one-year-old farm girl from Pennsylvania. Especially one who threw herself at him in a drunken mess.
Still, he sure is something to look at.
“All these guys love gettin’ up in front of the staff and telling them how vital they are. I swear, it’s like it’s in an owner manual. It don’t mean nothin’.” She pauses. “Then again, you know what I heard? That he personally reviewed each and every video interview made and gave the final approval for hiring. So maybe I’m wrong and he will stay.”
“That can’t be true.” A guy like that couldn’t be bothered when he has a hiring team to do that.
She shrugs. “If it is true, then he must love control. Maybe that extends into the bedroom.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
I don’t understand what that means, but I smile at her anyway.
“Come on.” Tillie loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go learn about folding towels and checking for bedbugs.”
I groan.
Chapter Seven
I’m pretty predictable when it comes to sleep. Every night around 3:00 a.m. I’ll wake up, lying on my stomach, hugging my pillow. I’ve done this for as long as I can remember, even when I’m alone in my room, even in dead silence.
Last night was the exception. Tonight, it seems I’m back on schedule. I lie in bed, listening for the shallow breathing of five other women, hoping that’ll lull me back to sleep.
At first, I’m not entirely sure what I’m hearing. I know it’s coming from Katie and Rachel’s bunk, which runs perpendicular to ours. It’s set slightly behind ours, and so close that if both Katie and I stretched arms out, we could touch fingertips.
The curtains on the windows dim the cabin well, but they don’t completely block the lights shining in from outside. The privacy curtain helps with that. Only, Autumn and my curtain isn’t long enough, and there’s a gap near my head.
Tonight, Katie and Rachel haven’t pulled their curtain all the way around, and the light glows over the end of the bottom bunk.
It takes a few blinks for my eyes to adjust to being awake, and to process what I see.
A naked woman is bent over Katie’s pillow.
Her thighs are straddling Katie’s face, and Katie’s short-manicured hands are gripping either side of the woman’s slender hips. And Katie is sliding her tongue along the slit of the woman’s private parts.
I fight the gasp as my mouth drops and my eyes pop wide.
Another voice whispers through a pant, “Oh my God, I’ve missed this. Don’t stop...” and I immediately recognize Rachel, earning my second wave of shock. I knew the two of them were from the same hometown and came here as friends, but I hadn’t expected this! Wasn’t Rachel ogling Mr. Wolf only hours ago?
“Like this?” Katie purrs, reaching around to spread Rachel’s lips with two fingers, until I have a good view of Rachel’s entire core, soft and pink and glistening.
“Yes,” Rachel moans.
Katie shushes her with a giggle, followed by a soft moan of her own. “I’m going to come fast if you keep doing that.”
I know I should close my eyes and give them their privacy and yet I don’t move, because part of me is curious. So I lie dead still and watch them pleasure each other, wondering what it would feel like to have someone’s tongue on me like that.
Is anyone else awake? They wouldn’t be able to see this, not like I can. Well, maybe Autumn, but I hear her soft snore above us.
I purse my lips together and watch as Katie alternates between sticking her tongue into Rachel’s opening and sucking on her clit, which Rachel seems to enjoy because she angles her pelvis to give Katie more.
“Give me that ass,” Katie whispers and my mouth drops open again as Rachel adjusts her body, rolling her hips until her backside dips down within reach. Katie swipes at the tight puckered part with her tongue, long and slow, then twirls the tip of her tongue around the hole. I clench my own ass every time she does that, shock flowing through me.
“Here. Use my plug.” A hand with a clear, beaded pointy object about three inches long appears.
Katie giggles as she takes it. “You sure? You have a hard time being quiet when we use this.”
“Please,” Rachel begs, and Katie shushes her.
Katie slides two fingers into Rachel, pumping them in and out several times, until they come out glistening. She smooths them over Rachel’s crack, until the entire area is slick. Rachel’s asshole puckers in anticipation.
“Not yet, you greedy—” Katie’s words drift as she begins panting and wriggling. The curtain shifts, something poking the inside of it. Her knee, I’m guessing. She’s spreading her legs wide.
I should feel guilty or dirty about spying on them, but I don’t. In fact, I can’t help the heaviness in my pelvis, the moisture pooling inside my panties, the urge to spread my own legs.
I’m aroused.
Oh my God. Does this mean I’m a lesbian?
Katie’s mouth moves back to Rachel’s clit and she begins probing her asshole with her moistened thumb, twisting and turning until she passes the first knuckle. Leaving it there, she slides the thing Rachel called a plug into Rachel’s pussy, pumping it in and out a few times, until it’s slick.
She pulls her thumb out and, lining up the tip of the plug, she whispers, “Relax,” and then slowly pushes it in, until each ring disappears and there’s nothing left but the circular end. Rachel’s muscles tense around it.
Mine tense with her.
Why would someone do that? Does it actually feel good?
The toy seems to propel them to another level. Katie’s fingers find their way into Rachel once again, only she doesn’t stop at two, inserting all four into her cavity. She pumps her hand in and out while her tongue works on R
achel’s sensitive nub, until long threads of cum drip from Rachel’s opening and the pungent smell of her arousal reaches my nostrils.
A phone suddenly appears. Katie pushes a few buttons and the screen lights up, and anything hidden from my view is now lit for me, right down to the goose bumps on Rachel’s slick flesh.
She’s selfie-videotaping this.
Oh my God.
Katie pauses to pant a few times. “Deeper,” she whispers, and my thighs squeeze in response to whatever Rachel may be doing on the other end.
And then Katie wraps her free hand around Rachel’s thigh and presses her face into Rachel’s mound to muffle her cries of ecstasy. At the same time, I hear Rachel’s stifled cry and then her body begins to quiver.
A few moments of silence pass before Katie’s head settles back on her pillow. With the camera still on and held close, she grasps the end of the plug and slowly pulls it out to the sound of Rachel’s sigh. With that done, she shuts the camera off, and Rachel’s lithe body begins to climb backward, over the end of the bed, off Katie.
I close my eyes, afraid of getting caught and painted the peeping Tom.
“I needed that,” Rachel whispers, followed by a soft, “Good night.” I sense movement right beside my head and then the ladder creaks.
Soon, all is quiet again.
Except now I’m wide awake and mildly traumatized by the private sexual act I watched. Of all people to witness it... Would they be angry with me if they knew I had watched? Embarrassed? I’m guessing not, if they’d risk doing it in the first place. That eases my guilt a bit.
I’m afraid to move yet, so I stay still, replaying what I saw in my head. I guess it’s the same thing that a guy would do to a woman. I can’t imagine having a man’s face down there like that.
A man like Henry Wolf, with that strong, square jaw grazing against the soft skin of my inner thigh. Try as I might, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head all day. Would he even do something like that? Or would he find it unappealing? Would I ever be confident enough to allow it? Jed said the idea of putting his mouth on any holes involved in defecating didn’t appeal to him. I’m betting that has changed.
It’s now 4:00 a.m. Soft, shallow breaths surround me, and I have a terrible throb between my legs that isn’t going away. As quietly as I can, I roll onto my back and slide my fingertips beneath the drawstring of my pants, hesitant to do this in a room with five other women, even if they’re all asleep. Sure, the curtain and my blankets hide it, but still...
I gingerly draw my index finger through my slit. It comes out slick. I bite my lip. And do it again. And again. And then I begin to flick my clit like I watched Katie do with her tongue, and it makes me wetter.
I haven’t done this in months, since before I caught Jed cheating on me. I haven’t had the urge, too heartbroken.
The more aroused I get, the braver I become, until I’m no longer so worried about getting caught. In fact, the idea of Katie or Rachel watching me do this spurs me on because I think they’d like it. I push my pajama pants down and spread my legs farther. I’m still under my blanket as I do this, and I’m being quiet. No one will know.
Should I even care? Autumn brought a dildo with her, and I just watched my two roommates eat each other out and stick a plug up their ass only three feet away!
I close my eyes and slowly, gently, back and forth, rub the sensitive nub of flesh, reveling in how soft it is. How good this feels. Like my body has been begging me to do it for years.
I struggle to keep quiet as my heart rate begins to race. I close my eyes and imagine it’s not my hand doing this. It’s Henry Wolf’s hand. His big, strong, manicured hands would probably know how to do it well.
Or his tongue.
The slow build that’s been growing in my pelvis now rushes, pushing my legs farther apart, until my covers have fallen away and the cool air touches my bare skin, and I don’t even care that I’m exposed within my little cubbyhole.
I close my eyes and imagine myself like Rachel was, bent over Mr. Wolf’s face while his tongue and his fingers plunge into me. A rush hits me and I have to press my lips together to keep from crying out as my muscles pulse beneath my fingertips.
Not until it’s over do I fully comprehend what just happened.
I brought myself to orgasm thinking of my boss.
Chapter Eight
I check my watch for the third time. He said 7:00 a.m.
So where is everyone?
I rushed past that guy, Connor, and the rest of the Outdoor crew in the staff lounge, a croissant hanging out of my mouth and a steaming cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup. They didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get here on time, their forest-green all-weather jackets hanging off chairs. I don’t have a suitable jacket besides my winter coat, so I wore several layers plus my vest and hiking boots. I wonder if that’ll be good enough. If not, someone’s going to have to equip me.
If someone shows up. Is this the right gate? It looks like the main gate, with iron rungs and a security booth made of stone and timber on the right. Kind of silly, given I heard there’s nowhere to go. The only way into Wolf Cove is by plane or boat. We’re surrounded by a mountain range and water, and ahead of us is the Kenai Fjords National Park.
I’m about to ask the guard when a low rumble cuts in to the remote peace. It’s coming from a black pickup truck slowly making its way along the service road, a pathway hidden from the lodge’s view by a thick cedar hedge.
I step aside to allow the truck past. It stops next to me instead.
“Get in.”
His deep, commanding voice—so early in the morning, so unexpected—makes me jump.
I can’t seem to form words. I simply stand and stare at Henry Wolf himself. He’s traded the tailored suit and styled hair for the red-and-black checked wool jacket and a less-tame head of waves that I remember from the other night, when I called him a lumberjack. The sleeves are rolled up to show off impressive forearms, thick and sinewy with muscle. His eyes hide behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, though it’s not nearly sunny enough to need them yet.
“You said you wanted some outdoor work, right?”
I finally find my tongue. “Right.”
“Well then, get in the truck.”
“With you?” I look around me, waiting for someone to jump out from behind a tree and yell, “Psych!”
“Not if you don’t hurry up.” There’s no mistaking the hint of a warning tone in his voice now.
I scurry over to the passenger side and climb in, slamming the heavy door behind me. A mixture of soap and bug spray hits me and I inhale deeply. I never thought bug spray could be so appealing.
He throws the truck into gear, and it lurches as it begins to move, jostling me around. “Sorry. It takes me a few days to get used to this engine again. My cars back home drive a lot more smoothly.”
Cars, plural. Of course. “That’s okay. I’m used to old farm trucks and bumpy roads.” I try not to stare at his profile, but I fail miserably. He’s honestly in a class all his own. His square, chiseled jaw is covered in a shadow of dark stubble, as if he forgot to shave. I’ve always thought a thin layer of stubble was sexy. Jed couldn’t grow it; it’d come in patchy. “Where’s home?” Do I address him as Henry or Mr. Wolf?
The security gate eases open and the guard throws a wave our way.
His large hands curl around the steering wheel as he pulls through. “Manhattan, mainly. Though I have a few places I like to spend time in.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course a guy like this has homes, plural, to go along with his cars, plural.
Henry turns right at the end of the driveway, and onto a single-lane dirt road.
“So,” I decide on the more formal to be safe, “Mr. Wolf, where—”
“Call me Henry.” He turns to regard me with a smirk, his cheek marked by a deep dimple. “I think we’ve passed the formal greeting stage, haven’t we?”
I heave a shaky sigh. “Okay, Henry..
.” I like the feel of his name on my tongue. “Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, I guess not.” I eye the twelve-gauge shotgun mounted over the rear windows.
He chuckles and the sound vibrates deep inside my chest. “Don’t worry. The safety’s on.”
“I’m not worried. I just wasn’t expecting to see one here.” I come from a family of hunters, so I’m comfortable enough around guns. “Why do we need it?”
“Have you ever seen a grizzly bear up close?”
When I shake my head, he shrugs. “I have. And that’s why we need a gun.”
“I thought they won’t usually attack.” That’s what the orientation video said.
“You’re right. They won’t, if we’re not stupid.” Henry’s eyes scan the brush by the side of the road as we drive, one hand resting on his thick, powerful thigh. The hand I was picturing on me last night, as I was coming. Just the thought makes me squeeze my thighs tightly together now. “But nothing is 100 percent. I like to be prepared for all possibilities.”
“So you’re a boy scout.”
That earns me another tiny, sexy smirk that makes my heart skip a beat. “Something like that.”
We ride in silence over the steep hills in the road. I do my best not to stare at him, but I can’t help glance intermittently, to catch a glimpse of his blue eyes, the color of the morning sky above us. He keeps seeing me do it, too, forcing me to veer my gaze to the road.
Only to wander back moments later.
Finally, he clears his throat, and I’m sure I’ve made him uncomfortable.
“So you decided to shave your beard?” I ask in a rush.
“I have some important people coming tomorrow. I figured it was time. And one of my employees mistook me for a lumberjack.”
I grin sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. To be fair though, I was really drunk.”
“Yes, you were.”
“And you didn’t introduce yourself to me as my boss.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I wait for an explanation. When it doesn’t come, I go on. “I wish you had. Maybe I wouldn’t have made such a complete ass of myself.”
