Chopped

by Charles, Colleen

  Gray tucks me underneath his shoulder and it takes nothing at all to lean in and snuggle into his massive chest. I inhale his scent. Woods. Strength. Man. I’m going to miss his smell once I leave. It’s unique, just like him.

  “You did great for your first time. Most people who try log rolling can’t even get the log once around. You’re a natural.”

  I try to ignore the pounding of my heart. Or is that his? I’m suddenly very aware of my sopping wet clothes clinging to me. Gray’s heat emanates from his body and straight into mine. Everything tightens. I don’t understand his effect on me. I’m having a hard time not imagining the tickle of his beard on my bare skin. His rough hands running along the insides of my thighs. The physical yearning is palpable.

  Ever since I met Gray, my world’s been lit up like the Fourth of July. Prior to my trip into these woods, I felt like I couldn’t see the air I’d been breathing for years. Couldn’t touch the shifting ground beneath my feet.

  Now the air is cleaner. The sky is bluer. The food tastes more delicious.

  My aching pussy is wetter.

  Dammit. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop that last part. Ever since I laid eyes on Gray, the ache between my legs only increases exponentially. Never to be consummated.

  “After I dry off, can you teach me how to chop down a tree?”

  He clucks his tongue. “Chopping, ax throwing, and sawing are lumberjack events. I don’t think you can do all three. Why don’t you just pick one?”

  I bristle and draw myself up to my full five-foot-two inches of sopping wet woman. “Are you saying you don’t think I’m strong enough to wield an ax?”

  He steps away and throws his hands in the air between us. “You’re very, very strong. Stopping you from doing anything you put your mind to is like reading tea leaves during a tornado. I was simply making a suggestion.”

  My eyes narrow, and I can feel my nostrils flare. “Truce. Where’s my next lesson located?” I glance around the banks of the stream, searching for Gray’s ax.

  He points a tapered finger. “Over there.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, I stare at the tallest tree I’ve ever seen. Except, it’s not really a tree. It’s bald as a cue ball, or Stanley Tucci’s head. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “That’s the tree I use to practice speed pole climbing for the lumberjack competition in town each year. What would the judgmental idiots think if I lived out here like a hermit and then didn’t win every single prize? Had to get rid of the branches, but it’s the perfect circumference.”

  I stalk over to the branchless tree and stand underneath it. Tipping my chin, I stare up at it. The thing soars into the sky at least a hundred feet. My stomach flips over as I imagine climbing it even a few yards. I’ve never liked heights. Glancing over my shoulder, I see him watching me with that damn gleam in his eye.

  Steeling my spine, I nod. “Okay. Show me what to do.”

  Staring at the trunk, I imagine that it’s my mortal enemy, tall and unyielding. And my only job in the coming minutes is to whoop its woody ass. Bristling, I stiffen my muscles and inhale a deep cleansing breath. My eyes narrow and my nostrils flare. Hopping on the balls of my feet, I throw a couple of punches into the air.

  A chuckle wafts toward my ears as he gives my shoulders a shake. His touch resembles an electrical current, buzzing and snapping like neon. “Easy, Mike Tyson. You need to climb it, not beat the shit out of it.”

  I still, leaning back and savoring the feel of him so close to me. “I’ve never climbed a tree before.”

  His hands fall to his sides. “Really? Not even when you were a kid?”

  I shake my head even though he’s behind me. “Nah. I always had my nose in a book. If I’d have tried to climb a tree, I would have missed a branch and face planted on the ground, breaking my coke-bottle glasses.”

  “I bet you were the cutest nerd in the class.”

  I reach out and touch the tree, tracing my fingers along the smooth wood. “Wrong again. I looked like a cross between Pippi Longstocking and the Wendy’s mascot. Except uglier.”

  In a heartbeat, his finger reaches around and caresses my jawline. Tiny shivers of awareness flood my body, causing an ache that I can’t even imagine could ever be erased. “You’re beautiful, Dove. Your features are exquisite. It wouldn’t matter what kind of glasses you’re wearing; your beauty can’t be masked. Now, are we going to stand here shooting the breeze or are we going to tackle this challenge in front of us?”

  I never want you to stop saying these things to me.

  “I never back down from a challenge.”

  “Somehow, I already knew that about you.” He glances down at my feet. “There’s a serious problem though.”

  My eyes narrow. “What?”

  “Your footwear. In those hiking boots, you’ll slide right back down the smooth tree. You need spikes and a safety harness.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. “Spikes? What if I hurt myself?”

  “Unless you fall backward ass over teakettle, your spikes will be facing the ground.” He tugs me backward. “And avoiding that is what the harness is for. Here, let me strap them on you and get you in your harness.”

  Gray reaches into his backpack and pulls out two contraptions that look like something Freddie Kruger would wear if he needed ankle support. I take a step backward. “That’s way too sharp, Gray. I can’t wear that.”

  He shakes it in front of me. “Just promise you won’t kick me in the face with it, and we’re good. My beard’s thick but not that thick.”

  Tentatively, I hold out my booted foot for him. I’m not sure if I’m more afraid of his touch or the razor-sharp spike he’s holding. I close my eyes as he straps it on, then puts the other one on my left boot. Once I’m tightly bound inside my safety harness, he positions me in front of the barkless tree but keeps his huge hands tightly cinched at my waist.

  I inhale a deep breath and look up. Wrong move. A jolt of fear rockets through me, sending gooseflesh across my arms. Since I’m wearing long sleeves, Gray can’t see it and know how much this scares me. But he probably knows by the tightness of my muscles. As I size up the tree, I tug my lower lip between my teeth.

  My first try doesn’t go so well and my foot arcs through the air and lands in the dirt with a thud. But my mama always told me to keep going until I succeed, and tree climbing is no exception. The next time, the spike digs into the wood and I utilize the stabilizing rope around my waist to keep me in place until I can put the left spike into the tree a bit higher.

  Over and over I go until I’m about ten feet above Gray’s head. “Slow and easy, come back down,” he calls from his perch on terra firma. Exactly where I’d like to be.

  I shake my foot a bit to extricate my spike to start my descent, but no matter how much I struggle I’m stuck there. Then I do the unthinkable – that thing that everyone says you should never, ever do. And now I know why.

  I look down.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gray

  My crotch tightens into a rigid ache as I watch Dove’s firm ass ascend up the tree at the speed of a meandering sea turtle. Reaching down, I adjust myself, thankful for the isolation of the location. Once I tell her to come back down, she stalls.

  I crane my neck, looking up at her. The right spike attached to her booted foot is dug into the wood so far, she’s having trouble getting it out. Grabbing my backpack, I start to put on my own spikes so I can rescue her when something strange catches my eye.

  Falling.

  Floating.

  Flittering.

  It lands about ten feet away and I stare at it in abject fascination. It’s white, and it came from Dove’s pants. Clearing my throat and ignoring what the fuck the white thing might be, I glance back up and notice she’s finally gotten herself free and has begun her slow, steady journey back down.

  I hold out my arms, itching to grab her and pull her close. “You can let go. I’ll catch you.”

  With
a little shimmy that I pretend doesn’t send me into orbit, she pushes at the knees and catapults herself backward. In midair, I span the expanse of her tiny waist and lower her gently to the ground. She spins in my arms, a triumphant smile tugging the corners of her lush lips upward. If I just dipped my head, I could…

  “What a rush!” She pounds her tiny fists against my chest and does a little dance on the balls of her feet. I help her remove the gear and stow it in the backpack.

  “Uh… something fell out of your pants while you were up there.”

  “My pants?” She narrows her eyes. “What?”

  I can feel the blush settle on my cheeks. I’m not used to talking about women’s pants and what could possibly be up there that could shake loose. Instead, I simply point at the white object and stammer.

  She stomps over to the location and leans over. The sound of her girlish giggles floats toward my ears. “Bounce!”

  I blink. Pause. “What?”

  “It’s Bounce. A dryer sheet. I must have missed it last time I folded these pants.” She waggles her brows at me. “Seriously, Gray. What did you think it was?”

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, I let out a low whistle. “No idea. All I know is it was floating through the sky, and it came from the depths of your pants.”

  With a cute little shake of her head, she picks it up and stows it inside her pocket. “Well, I sure don’t want to litter. This forest is pristine. Some poor animal could chew on it and that would be bad.”

  For a heartbeat, I’m struck speechless. Those eyes. They haunt you and taunt you at the same time. Worst yet? She’s so innocent and vulnerable, she has absolutely no idea what she does to me. My own scan her body, imagining stripping her bare and demanding she spill all her secrets while I kiss my way over her skin.

  I feign concern. “Yeah. Litter is the bane of any forest.”

  Dove turns and starts to head toward me. A giant tree root juts up out of the ground, but it’s covered in a bed of leaves, and she doesn’t see it until it’s too late. I pitch forward, my arms outstretched to catch her as she catapults through the air like a human torpedo, her lush lips falling open and her eyes wide with fright.

  The almost catastrophe steals my breath. The sky seems bluer, the forest quieter, the woman encircled within my arms softer. The chirping of a nearby bird tickles my ears as I hold tightly onto Dove, her pants flowing between us.

  In. Out.

  In. Out.

  Her lips. They fall open on the force of her breath and I can’t stop myself. I can’t hold back no matter how hard I might try. She leans back, about to break the physical connection, so I pull her forward and my mouth descends. It’s a brief kiss, sweet and short. She brings both palms up to push me away, but then they fall to her sides like limp spaghetti. That’s the moment I decide I’m going to kiss her again.

  That tiny sip is not enough.

  A whole lifetime of kisses might not be enough.

  Gentle.

  Rough.

  Butterfly.

  Passionate.

  My mind races with all the ways I want to devour her lips. It’s like we’re drawn together by an invisible cord of lust. I swoop down and claim her lips in a kiss so searing it borders on possession. Maybe it is. Because I can’t think of anything I’ve ever wanted in my life as much as I want this tiny person. My tongue slips past her full lips to tangle with hers.

  Taking.

  Giving.

  Falling.

  In this moment, I belong to her and only her. It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this kiss. This woman. This gentle and then insistent and then demanding touching of lips with everything tumbling out of my soul to mingle with hers.

  Until passion isn’t even close to enough.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this, Gray,” she whispers against my lips even as her arms twine about my neck to keep me close. I stare at the pulse throbbing in her slender neck. I want to listen to her. Then I don’t.

  I’m a fucking conflicted hot mess of emotions.

  None of them I recognize.

  Like she’s a burning hot coal in my winter boot, I give her a little shove. “You’re right. My apologies. It won’t happen again.”

  As her wide eyes search mine, I’m not sure that’s a promise that I can keep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dove

  Oh, my God, Gray kissed me!

  As my heart flutters with the intensity of a thousand butterflies, my fingers reach up to touch my lips. I contemplate the implications of kissing a man out in the middle of nowhere. A man who has complete control over whether I live or die. Not that I don’t inherently trust Gray. It’s just that I’ve always lived in the logical portion of my scientific brain. And kissing a mountain man outside in front of God and Mother Nature has to be the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done. Almost as risky as that time I hung off a cliff over Lake Superior searching for the perfect wildflower.

  Ever since our illicit kiss this afternoon, I’ve been consumed with thoughts of him. And more kissing. Just more. I wonder where he is now. For about an hour after the kiss, he chopped wood, stacking it in the woodpile in perfect rows. Despite myself, I peeked out the window and watched him, fanning myself at the way his back muscles stretched and popped with strength. The man does strange things to my insides. Since I’ve never stopped long enough to consider my feminine needs, I’ve never really examined them before.

  When I get back home, I’ll have to do that to deal with the confusion I’m feeling. Just like one of my experiments. There’s no reason why love can’t be handled just like I would a hypothesis in the lab. Control the variables. Control my emotions. A fresh surge of wetness floods my panties when he stops long enough to run a towel down his face. Desperation snakes up my spine as I grasp at straws and self-control. So… maybe I won’t be able to control the unwelcome reactions of my woman’s body, but I can damn well control everything else.

  And. I. Will.

  How long can a road be out of service? As I scan the muddy expanse around the cabin, I sigh and realize it could be a long, long time. A wave of unease settles right in the place where passion just resided. Because if I stay here much longer, I won’t be able to control the uncontrollable. If he kisses me again… if he takes my face gently in his massive hands and captures my lips with his, all bets are off. I will succumb. What woman wouldn’t?

  The book I’m holding falls into my lap at the slam of the door. He doesn’t say anything, just stalks by me as if he’s angry for some reason and a few seconds later, I hear the water running in the shower.

  What the hell?

  He kissed me.

  Annoyance fills my body, tingling from the tips of my toes to the pores on my scalp. My ponytail feels tight. Jumping up, I pace a few steps until my annoyance turns quickly into rage. Rage I can’t stop from engulfing me. Tears prick the backs of my eyelids. How dare this Neanderthal reject me! Act like kissing plain, boring, plant nerd Dove Collins was some kind of carnal mistake!

  Pulling myself up to my whole five-foot-two height, I stomp to the bathroom door and try the handle. Locked. I alternate between pounding and shaking the door on its hinges for about a minute. I think he hollers something at me, but I can’t make it out between my antics and the water running in the bathroom. Jingling the doorknob one more time all while pounding with my left fist, shock overtakes me when the door flings open and I fall forward straight onto the naked chest of a very angry man.

  One wearing only a sneer and a fluffy white towel slung low around his hips. Staring at the perfect ‘V’ leading to the towel, I clamp my mouth shut and rethink this strategy.

  “What the hell, woman! Is there some kind of emergency? Did you see a bear?” As he fires his questions, he grabs me by the back of my head to steady me. I stare at the muscled expanse of skin and lose my train of thought.

  Shit. I lose my fucking mind.

  Droplets of water trickle everywhere my eyes can see. If I feel com
pelled, I can lean in and lick them away. I want to. Shaking my head, I try to eradicate the fog of lust that settles over my body. He inhales and waits for me to respond. All of a sudden, my misplaced anger seems ignorant and ridiculous. I try to summon a laugh, but it just comes out as a pathetic moan.

  Gray shifts his massive hand on the back of my head and tips my chin up to force eye contact. All thoughts flee the normally genius part of my brain.

  I blink a few times. “You kissed me.”

  A sigh rips through him. “I said I was sorry. You were excited about your accomplishment. I was excited for you. I don’t think a little kiss between friends is any reason to pound the house down.”

  Friends?

  “You kissed me.”

  He pulls me in close and presses his lips to the top of my head. All that gentle act does is fire up my anger again. Instead of pounding on the wooden door, I turn my tiny fists on his bulging pecs.

  With another sigh, he puts his hands underneath my armpits and lifts me until I’m eye level with him. “Knock that off, Dove. Your anger is misdirected.”

  Throwing all caution to the wind, I blow on my fingernails. “Make me.”

  Instead of saying another word, he lets me slide down his body then dips his head and captures my mouth with his. Unlike our last little kiss ‘between friends,’ this one isn’t friendly at all. Nor is it gentle. It’s a crazy, frantic melding of lips and tangling of tongues unlike anything I’ve ever known. This is the kind of kiss that makes a woman weak in the knees. Within a second, I realize this is the only way a woman should ever, ever be kissed.

  I’ve seen the light, and I don’t ever want to return to the darkness.

  Before I want him to, he pulls back and puts a breath of space between us. “Jesus, Dove, you can’t even know what you do to me. It’s like I’ve known you in another life or something.”

  Through my haze of lust, I meet his eyes and see nothing but the truth lingering there. “Do you believe that?”