by Keri Hudson
Phoebe sat there, still stunned, teacup ignored in her hand. Bazz went on, “We’ll both have to lie low here for a while. But you’ll be safe, I can provide for all your needs, virtually indefinitely.”
“Indefinitely?”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that. But right now, you need some rest.”
***
Bazz could hardly keep his eyes off the sleeping beauty on his bed. Phoebe seemed so pure, so innocent. Her motives in life seemed righteous and real, her desire for a cleaner, more wholesome planet befitting a woman of her natural beauty and effortless elegance. He’d been struck by her from the first glance, even from across the slope, a damsel in distress. But she’d faced her fate with courage, and went on to do so again and again. She was a woman worthy of rescue, not needing any redemption.
But he had little reason to think she wouldn’t decide to run back down the mountain, and he already knew he wouldn’t try to stop her. He was not her captor, but her protector. Of course, being one to some degree made him the other, but he wouldn’t blame her for running for the hills. Well, he had to correct himself, run from the hills, in this case.
He could only hope that the world was still a safe place for her. It’s possible, he realized. But he knew that wasn’t good enough. Her safety could not be left to chance. Phoebe’s smartphone still had some battery life, and he pulled up YouTube and searched the keywords Boulder protest animal.
His stomach sank to see what he found.
A series of telephone videos and some by professional news crews were labeled Boulder Fracking Riot, Another Armstrong Fracking Site Plagued by Violence, and other dramatic titles. But what bothered Bazz were the ones labeled Strange Creature in Boulder, Bigfoot Joins Protest, and Beauty and the Beast!
Bazz screened through several of the clips, fleeting shots of him caught in shaky, moving footage, jittery with the chaos. Even professional reporter Kyle Keller’s cameraman had a hard time catching all the action, getting a shot only of Bazz running over a slope, disappearing a second or two after the camera found him and the footage ended abruptly.
Kyle said from the rowdy slope, “It’s chaos here at the Armstrong natural gas mining site just outside Boulder, Colorado. A violent riot has broken out, and what looked like a bear seemed to have burst upon the scene.”
Other clips were shot later in the day after the riot was quelled, police vans being filled with rioters from both sides.
Two big, burly rednecks stood next to Kyle, speaking into the long, black mic he angled at their faces.
“Looked like a bigfoot t’me.”
“Wasn’t no bigfoot,” the other said. “Looked like a bear. But I ain’t never seen no bear drag off a woman like that.”
“It didn’t carry off no woman,” the first said, “that’s an urban myth.”
“Urban myth? It just happened!”
Another clip, from in front of the Boulder Police Department, featured the now familiar Dt. Marvin Chin, rumpled and aging poorly, black hair both thinning and graying. “I’ve looked at the footage and we’re having experts look at it, but we don’t have any hard evidence that the thing found on video wasn’t just a bear that had been attracted to the protest by the noise and the smells of all that human activity. This is grizzly country, after all.”
Kyle asked him, “What about the woman?”
The middle-aged cop just shrugged. “We haven’t had any verified reports that the bear kidnapped a woman. Our experts assure us that it’s not physically possible for a bear to do, and there’s no reason for a bear to do such a thing.”
“Some people think it was a Sasquatch, taking a woman as a mate.”
The graying detective broke a little smile. “Listen to how ridiculous that sounds. A Bigfoot raiding a protest to kidnap a human female. That’s the stuff of pure fantasy. I won’t even dignify it with a proper response. The truth is, nobody can be sure of what they saw, but if it turns out to be a Sasquatch, I’ll eat my badge.”
Another video clip featured Armstrong CEO Brandon Malone walking up the steps of his company’s Manhattan headquarters, flanked by a familiar man with black hair slicked back, a silk suit giving him a particularly slimy look.
“I heard there was some violence at the Boulder site, but I wasn’t there and I don’t know anything about how it started or why. I’m sorry to anybody who was hurt, and Armstrong continues to stand by the entire community of Boulder, indeed the entire brotherhood of man. That’s all.” The man opened the building’s glass doors and Malone entered, leaving the camera crews and photographers behind, questions roiling up from the reporters.
Bazz sighed and turned off the video, swiping the screen. He set the phone down on the table and returned his attention to Phoebe, still sleeping soundly.
I won’t let them take her from me, Bazz silently swore. For as long as she wants to be with me, she will be. Until death does us part.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Phoebe woke up the next morning, almost sixteen hours after going to sleep. She was somewhat refreshed and revitalized, though still clearly disoriented. There was a lot to digest and the more she thought about it, the more digestion seemed to be necessary.
Bazz had cooked a hearty vegetable stew over a fresh fire, peppered and spiced with things he had stashed in the cabin. Phoebe had prepared a fresh salad, all from the garden he kept growing on the side of the cabin, which was bursting with ripe sweet corn, sunberry, and nodding onions.
The stew was hot and peppery on his tongue, tender with just right amount of bite, the salad a crispy and soothing delight. Bazz also had a stash of beers, wines, liquors—just about anything he’d need to hide out for just such an occasion as that.
“So you’re… you’re not human? I don’t mean any offense, but…”
“None taken. But no, I am human, just… with a little extra DNA, that’s all.”
Phoebe had to shake her head as if to aid in her own understanding. “And you can do it, like, any time you want.”
“Yeah, that full moon stuff, that’s from the movies.”
“That's from the movies,” Phoebe repeated, “but the rest of it’s just another day in the life.”
Bazz could only shrug. “For me, it is.” He looked away, his own words coming as if on their own. “That’s why I’ve had to go it alone, all these years. What woman would want a man like me?” He looked around the cabin. “A life like this?”
“Well, it’s not that,” Phoebe started.
But Bazz went on, “Look how dangerous my life can get. And you haven’t seen the half of it. I’m constantly fighting off lupes and alphas—”
“Alphas?”
“The area’s predators, wolves and bears, in this case; not shifters, though.” Phoebe nodded. “Anyway, things may be about to get a lot worse. There’s a kind of civil war coming, I think, a shifter apocalypse. Not sure how long, but... nobody’s going to want to be very close to me when things get ugly.”
Phoebe looked around, eyes finding his arms, his chest, his face. “I dunno… maybe… maybe the right girl would. A girl who loved nature, who knew the value of a good man in hard times.”
“And a hard man in good times?” She broke out in a nervous chuckle. Bazz went on, “I… some people just don’t… it’s a numbers game, really.”
Phoebe nodded. “I’ve felt the same way, a lot of times. Freddie and I were always so determined to do right by our parents’ memory. There were guys, of course; boys, really. But I know how that loneliness is, how it can wear you down, little by little. I guess it can make you stronger too, but… love can too, right?”
Bazz nodded, setting his hand on Phoebe’s. She left hers there, the tenderness of the moment drawing them together. They kissed, lips pressing gently together, breath collecting between them. It was a moment both immeasurably small and profoundly grand.
They pulled away slowly, eyes lingering on each other. The soft digital coo leaked out of her smartphone on a small wooden table nearby.
Phoebe picked it up and swiped the screen. She read on, eyes going wide.
“Message from Freddie. He got a little beat up but Jason’s looking after him. Thank God!”
“You take heavy losses?”
“Nobody dead,” Phoebe reported.
“More good news.” A somber silence filled the cabin, and Phoebe looked around the room. “I guess we’ll be here a while.”
Bazz nodded. “We’ll have to keep an eye on things. You don’t have a charger for that phone?” Phoebe shook her head. “We’ll figure something out.”
She sighed, as if as unconvinced as Bazz was. He’d left his car at the protest, and having been left there, it was a clue that would lead somebody to them both eventually. It also meant they had no easy way into town, and that taking refuge in his condo was likely not a safe option either.
Phoebe asked him, “So this is your... your sanctuary, away from civilization?”
Bazz couldn’t help cracking a little smile. “More like society’s sanctuary from me. When things get hairy, no pun intended, they’ll be coming after me. The fewer vulnerable, innocent people around me, the better.”
A long silence passed before Phoebe said, “It’s nice, though. Quiet. Feels safe.”
“Safer than most places.” Bazz took a sip of a dry, tangy merlot to wash down that hearty stew. “For us, at least.”
She looked around and smiled, taking a deep breath of the crisp mountain air. “It’s nice.”
“It is,” Bazz said. “There really is something to it, living off the grid, so to speak. I mean, I’ve got fresh water, a hand-dug irrigation and sewage system, a smoker to preserve food, places to store clean water. S’funny… all the modern conveniences we love so much, our computers and smartphones and apps and swipes and all that… but I can’t help but think that we were all a lot healthier and a lot happier, and I know the planet was a lot healthier and a lot happier, when people lived more like this, and less like we do even down in Boulder.”
Phoebe nodded, taking a bite of the venison steak and rolling her eyes with obvious joy as she chewed it. “I always liked going camping as a kid,” she said, “Freddie and our folks. They taught us about the animals, the flora, what not to touch and eat. It was nice, I… I miss it, I miss them. I hope Freddie is okay.”
“I’m sure he is,” Bazz said, not entirely convinced. “Your folks, they died together, I assume?”
She nodded. “Plane crash, on the way to a demonstration in Flint, Michigan.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Bazz said, his hands finding hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
She cracked a bittersweet smile. “I guess a person can be alone, no matter where they are. At least I had Freddie, after they died, I mean. I still have him, knock on wood. And I always will.”
“He’s a good man,” Bazz said, “a good brother.”
“Did he warn you that if you hurt me, he’d kick your ass?” Bazz nodded and they shared a chuckle. But it faded fast. Bazz gave her hand another little squeeze. “He’s fine, I'm sure. And... at least we’re not alone… you and me, I mean.” Phoebe smiled again, their faces nearing for another kiss.
After dinner, they sat under the Colorado stars, a little bench swing on the porch giving them a perfect view of the heavens above, seemingly within arm’s reach.
“It’s so beautiful out here,” Phoebe said. “It’s worth fighting for, I think, all this natural beauty. But some people, they just don’t care. Make a quick grab, rake in all the money they can, then leave the rest for the next generation to clean up. It’s criminal, I think.”
“I agree,” Bazz said. “And it’s getting worse fast. In a lot of ways, I’m afraid it might be too late.” This inspired a surprised reaction from Phoebe. “I’m not talking about giving up,” Bazz explained, “but… with global warming, Fukushima, the Gulf Coast… there is a point of no return, Phoebe. Nobody knows precisely where it is.”
Phoebe nodded, leaned against Bazz, resting her head on his shoulder. “Same thing with love, isn’t it?” After a curious turn of Bazz’s head, Phoebe explained, “You’re going along, living your life, and then suddenly, before you realize…” She turned to look at him, their eyes locking. Their lips pulled together again, another kiss to spark their mutual intrigue. Tongues intermingled, his hand reaching up to rest against her smooth, pale cheek, glowing in the moonlight. She dipped her eyes closed as her mouth opened, her chest rising with her deepening breath.
Their kissing became more passionate, breathing faster as his hands found her breasts, squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure. They were firm and round in his hands, first one and then the other. Her nipples pushed out from behind her shirt, erect and aroused.
Bazz knew just how they felt.
His hand slid down her body, taut and lean, to her perfectly curved hips, strong legs branching out and down, parting for him just a bit. His fingers dipped down and between her legs, tight jeans encasing that gorgeous, compact body. His heart beat faster, blood starting to pump fast in his veins, muscles swelling with blood and purpose.
Phoebe’s own hands got busy, pulling Bazz’s zipper and reaching in to release his mammoth erection, long and thick and getting even harder as she wrapped her hands around it. One hand clutched the thick, strong base, the other wrapped around the shaft and pulled, pumping and squeezing, adding a pit of perpendicular pressure to test his unbending strength and unyielding muscularity.
He felt good in her hands. They were small but strong, and Bazz could feel her commitment, her desire, her womanly passion overwhelming her surface civility. The animal in her was slowly coming out.
Phoebe licked the head, the sweet sensation streaming through his meat and straight into his body, sparks igniting, electricity flowing.
She slipped him into her mouth, warm and wet and wonderful, her tongue swirling around the head, lips folded over her teeth. Phoebe pulled her cheeks in to surround his unit with soft flesh, then the empty space of her mouth let cool air and hot breath play against the spit-slick skin.
Bazz’s hips gyrated just a bit, an instinctive reaction to her seduction of his senses, body eager to participate in their mutual satisfaction. It wouldn’t have to wait long. But until then, Phoebe went on teasing and delighting him with her intimate attention, raising and lowering her head over his elongated erection.
Phoebe pulled him out and gave his head and shaft a series of kisses and licks, blowing a little stream of air to tantalize, his skin and nerves titillated. Bazz’s hand found the back of her head, gently stroking that silky red hair, short-cropped and cute beneath his fingers.
Clutching and squeezing the base, pumping the middle shaft and licking and sucking the first six inches, Phoebe sent bolts of pleasure rocketing through his cock and into his body. Licking and kissing and nuzzling and squeezing, Bazz’s unit was the center of her wondrous attention, and he was drinking in every second of it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They peeled each other’s clothes off and Phoebe eased Bazz down onto the porch. He lay on his back and Phoebe climbed up onto him. She splayed her legs and positioned his head between her tight, dewy lips. She pressed down a bit, pausing to let the head rest inside her. The pressure was terrific, and she seemed to be savoring every second as much as he was. Phoebe dropped herself down a bit further, resting on her knees, those milky thighs rising and lowering her body over his upraised erection. Her white breasts bobbed in front of her, high and round and proud, pink nipples reaching out. Her own attention seemed pulled to them as his was, her fingers pulling and twisting her nipple as she bit her lower lip and sank down just a bit more.
Phoebe rose and lowered herself, taking in just a few inches and then pulling back, making his head burn and nerves crackle under the skin, his hips pushing up in an instinctive desire for more. But she refused him, making him wait in a way he relished and also could hardly endure. He wanted more, he wanted it faster and harder, but he would have to wait.
And
he loved it.
Up and down, her tight, pink clench gripped him as her body bobbed slowly above him. His hands found her creamy thighs, rubbing up and down, feeling the muscles as they contracted and relaxed, her body responding, breasts bobbing round and sweet, shimmering with just a gleam of perspiration.
She went down a bit further, taking him in deeper and increasing the pace of her pump, up and down in a slightly quicker cycle. Phoebe leaned forward, her hands flat against Bazz’s chest, fingers digging into his muscular pecs, her breasts hovering above him as she ground down harder.
Bazz reached up to cup her tits, nipples hard between his fingers as he squeezed and kneaded them, lifting them and letting them rest in his cupped palms. Phoebe bit into her lower lip and threw her head back, creamy shoulders rising up to her pouting lips as she turned her head, flashing that gorgeous profile.
Her tight sheath pushed down on his upraised rod, the pressure exquisite. She tipped her body just a bit, the angular pressure fantastic on his tawny member, his own hips shifting to counter it with an equal and opposite action.
Phoebe dropped down further, taking in even more of his massive measure. She groaned as she pushed herself up very slowly, revealing most of his length before sinking back down over it. Up and down further, Phoebe maintained a slow, steady pace over almost the entirety of his unit. Those gorgeous legs flexed on each side of his muscular torso, little shakes of those delicious hips adding a burst of pleasure to the loving pumps, pressure increasing in his loins, getting ready to burst.
His hands found her hips and held tight, strong fingers pressing into her tender flesh, guiding and holding on at the same time, tracing each sway and wriggle as that magnificent pelvic cradle enveloped him. She was an angel above him, an animal—heavenly and earthbound. She sat on him, naked and writhing and primal, her own joy seeming to overtake her.