by Lita Stone
“Look.” She pointed behind him where a mammoth of a horsefly struggled, its wings and legs writhing. “Your horsefly is dead. These are his friends.”
He snatched the hairspray and sprayed at the new pests. When the horseflies dropped, he sat on a nearby rock with the can tucked by his side.
Another horsefly circled. “Why are they only after me?”
“You must taste sweeter than me. Give me a bite and I’ll let you know.”
Cam snatched the can and sprayed.
“Are you confiscating my hairspray for the remainder of our trip?” Maggie asked.
“Yup.”
She cupped her ear. “Hear that?” When he only glowered at her, she said, “Sssssss. I can hear the testosterone leaking from your pores right at this very moment. All you need now is some hand lotion, a tube of lipstick and a tampon and the transformation will be complete.” She sifted through her backpack. “Wait. Wait. I think I’ve some lotion in here somewhere.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. He handed her hairspray back. “Break’s over. Let’s go.”
“Got something to eat?”
“I have some energy bars. Chocolate and oatmeal, raisin and cinnamon, or peanut butter and oats?”
“Chocolate and oatmeal.”
From a pocket in his backpack, he grabbed the snack and gave it to her.
A mixture of caramel, chocolate chips and granola dissolved in her mouth. She moaned. “This is great. How many calories are in this?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Well, what brand is it? I’ll look it up when I get home.”
“I made it.” He strapped his backpack on. “Eat and walk.”
“You made this?”
“Yup.” He slipped his backpack on. “Let’s go.”
# # #
Maggie had lost cellphone reception so she had no clue what time it was. Judging by the ache in her muscles, she’d guess they’d been hiking for two days, but since it wasn’t dark yet, common sense told her they’d only been walking for a few hours.
They approached a body of water about a hundred feet wide. He bent over, untied and removed his boots. “We’ll take a break soon. First we need to cross this stream.”
“But the trail doesn’t lead—.”
“I didn’t think you’d slow us down as much as you have. I know a shortcut to get us to the spot where I want to camp tonight. If we don’t take it, we’ll never make it before dark.”
He tucked his socks into his boots and slid Maggie’s sack from her back. Holding his boots and their backpacks over his head, he sloshed into the stream and waded until the water was waist deep. Glancing back, he said, “What are you waiting for?” He tossed his boots and the backpacks to shore on the other side and dunked under the water.
He surfaced and glared at her. “This will be the only chance we have to clean up. You do bathe?”
Her hands went to her hips. “Of course. I just prefer to bask under a swivel shower head set to pulse. The sensation on my breasts is borderline euphoric.”
He groaned. “I don’t want to know about your lady bits.”
Maggie covered her mouth and laughed. “Lady bits?”
“Get the fuck in the water before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you in.”
“Just trying to keep things light. Geesh, you got a short fuse.”
“Woman, you have no idea.”
Just as Cam had, she tucked her socks in her boots and held them high. She stepped into the water. Mud squeezed between her toes. A slimy substance greased the bottom of her foot. Shrieking, she jumped back. “I’ll just sponge bathe with some of the water I packed.”
The water rippled as he strode toward her. “That’s to drink, not bathe in.” He stretched his arm toward her. “Take my hand.”
Maggie shook her head.
Cam bolted out of the water. How could something so big move so fast?
“I don’t have the patience for your shit.” He slung her over his shoulder—like a bartender would a dishrag—and waded into the stream.
Maggie punched at his back. “Bastard! Put me down.”
He grabbed the boots from her hand. “Relax. You won’t have to touch the bottom.” He tossed her boots to shore and cradled her in front of him. Gently, he lowered her into the water. With a hand under her back, he balanced her on the surface.
The gold ring that draped from a chain necklace around his neck glimmered in the fading sunlight. Dark stubble shadowed his chin and strong jaw line. His high forehead, olive skin and dark, mysterious eyes melted her resolve to keep him at a distance.
Sure she wanted to screw him, but she had vowed long ago never to let herself get close to a man. Friends-with-benefits was truly all she wanted, nothing emotional, no drama.
But when he twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers, she involuntarily sighed. She pictured his large hands palming her breasts, his body over hers, his cock—.
As if he knew her thoughts, he smiled down at her and asked, “You a natural red head?”
“Kiss me.”
He gave her a devilish grin, the same as he had the day she met him. “If you tell me your secret.” He sprinkled water on her nose.
She frowned. “I don’t have any secrets.”
“The day we met, Jags said you were seeking something. What was he talking about?”
She had no clue and even if she had, she would never trust him or anybody else.
With a tenderness someone of his size should not possess, he ran the back of his hand down the side of her face. “Your skin’s so soft.” Those dark eyes pierced hers. He snapped his hand away, as if he had just been burned. “Time to go.”
Like a switch, the tenderness vanished and he was back to his grumpy self. With her cradled in his arms, he sloshed onto shore and set her on her bare feet.
She blew wet strands from her face and twisted her long locks, wringing water from her hair.
Men were simple creatures. Sports, friends, hobbies were all great, but all they really needed were sex and food, a theory that had helped her manipulate every man she’d dated since damn near puberty.
Not a man existed she couldn’t seduce.
Until now.
He was obviously attracted to her, but still resisted her. Perhaps he trusted women about as much as she trusted men.
Cam was complex and mysterious, unlike the transparent men she’d typically dated. Any sane woman would run from a man who’d threatened to squash her like a bug. With a squeeze of his hand, he could break her neck, silencing the sounds of her own screams, screams that haunted her waking and sleeping consciousness.
But his threats and size hadn’t frightened her. She wanted to trust him and that petrified her almost as much as the memories of that terrible night so long ago.
Chapter Eight
The sun was setting and the temperature had dropped. They approached a tree that had fallen across the trail. He climbed on the trunk and offered her his hand. Maggie braced a foot and hoisted herself up. Cam jumped down and took Maggie with him.
They walked deeper into the woods, following a well-worn path. Cam often took advantage of this spot, like many other hikers. With any luck, it would be empty of any squatters.
They came upon a clearing where the tall grass had been packed flat. Rocks enclosed a circular patch of scorched ground.
“You shouldn’t make a fire,” he said. “Try to leave nature the way you found it, as undisturbed as possible.”
Maggie slid her backpack off. “Somebody’s obviously made a fire here.”
“Yup. So if we make a fire, we won’t be disturbing nature.” He untied the casing to his gray tent and shrugged it off. “Not as much as we would if a fire hadn’t already burned here.” He finished pitching his tent and reached for her backpack.
“Could I sleep in your tent? I hate sleeping alone.”
When Cam tore the pack from her, Maggie dropped to the ground and crossed her
legs.
As he anchored the last stake, he asked, “Want some popcorn for the show?”
Maggie shrugged.
Cam headed toward the woods. He returned shortly carrying a stack of large branches. He made a fire and they sat on the ground and watched the flames dance.
Maggie tried to spark conversation, but he never a spoke a word, just poked at the fire until darkness surrounded them.
“Goodnight.” She stood and looked down at him, probably waiting for him to protest her departure. Not going to happen.
“Whatever,” she muttered and disappeared into her tent.
When the second whiz of a zipper sounded, the tension in Cam’s muscles faded. He just had to get through this weekend then he could concentrate on opening his restaurant. He’d never have to see or speak to her again.
One problem. He wanted her, wanted her bad.
Maggie was bold, adventurous, and silly, not to mention, stunning. She was cute and at the same time sexy. Her fair skin clashed brilliantly with her cherry red hair and green eyes. And her perfume! He had to find out the brand. Like an addict, he could use it to diminish the cravings, spraying his curtains, sofa, and bedding. Cam squeezed his head between his hands. You’re a monster! Let her go.
# # #
An animal shrieked. Cam’s lids flipped open. He lifted his head from the tent floor and propped his weight on his forearms. An owl? Another shriek. Nope. Not an owl. He jerked to a sitting position. Maggie!
The three-quarter moon illuminated Maggie’s shaking tent. He whipped her flap open to find her jumping up and down and slapping at her arms. Grimacing, he snatched her wrist and yanked her from the tent.
“Calm down,” he growled.
“They’re biting me! They’re everywhere!”
Cam willed his temper to cool as he tried to still her movements. “I can’t get them off, if you don’t stop jumping.” He slapped at the ants crawling up his arm. “Take off your clothes!”
Still jumping and screaming, Maggie struggled with the bottom of her princess shirt. Cam swatted her hands away, yanked her shirt over her head and tugged her shorts down her legs.
Maggie stood in her fire engine red undies and matching lace bra. He swiped his hands down her arms and legs, turned her and did the same down her back, stopping periodically to wipe the little fuckers from his own limbs.
She bounced on one foot and clawed at the other. “My feet are so itchy.”
In a tone as calm as he could muster, he said, “I can’t help you if you don’t stop jumping around like a kindergartner at recess.”
Maggie put her foot down, raised her other and gave it the same clawing treatment. “Why are my feet so itchy?”
“It’s your body reacting to the venom.” Cam framed her face with his hands. “Your lips are swollen. Are you allergic to ant venom?”
“I don’t think so.”
He dragged her toward his tent, but she jerked from his grasp.
“What if they’re in your tent too?” she asked.
“Unlike you, I’m not dumb enough to leave food in my tent.”
“I did not leave food in my tent,” she said with conviction.
He gave her a sidelong look.”
“Fine.” She huffed. “Maybe a little bit of that energy bar.”
He laughed. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll move my tent away from yours. Okay?”
Maggie’s jaw dropped. “They have legs.”
“Would you go to a restaurant you knew had no food?”
Cam yanked the tent stakes up and dragged his tent away from hers then escorted her around the tent. Using a flashlight, he showed her there were no ants and ushered her inside and did the same inspection. Maggie looked barely convinced but conceded since her only other option was to stand under the moonlight in nothing but bra and panties.
She sat in the center of the tent and clawed at her feet. Cam threw her one of his T-shirts and retrieved an EpiPen from his backpack. He waited for her to put on his shirt then crooked his finger.
Tilting her head, she gestured to the item in his hand. “What’s that?”
“EpiPen. I always have one with me. I’m allergic to bees.”
Maggie scurried to the corner. “I don’t do needles.”
Smiling, he crawled toward her. “Not my problem.”
“I’ll kill you if you put that thing in me.”
He cocked his head and gave her a sultry smile. “Isn’t that what you’ve wanted from the start? Me to stick it in you?”
Her brows furrowed. “Now you flirt?”
Seizing both her wrists in one hand, he jerked her close. She wiggled and kicked but he handled her as if she were an inanimate object. “I hate you!”
With an arm barred across her chest, he raised the needle over her thigh. “Can’t have you dying on me. I’m too lazy to carry your dead weight the rest of way.”
“That’s so sweet.”
She looked so damn sexy when she was mad. “Are you ready?” He delayed intentionally, loving every minute of her torture.
“Wait. My feet aren’t itchy any more. They feel much better. Yes. Yes. I’m good.”
Cam’s smile widened.
She reached but he lifted his arm. “What if you get stung by a bee?”
“Unlike you, my reaction would be severe. This wouldn’t help me. I’d be dead in minutes.”
“Then why do you carry it?”
“If I’m not in the middle of the woods, miles from civilization, it’d give me time to get to the hospital.”
“I don’t need it.” Maggie shook her head. “I don’t want it.”
“Sorry, babe.” He drilled the needle into her thigh.
Her body jolted. “Bastard!”
“It’s your own damn fault.” Cam tossed the empty canister at his backpack, sat on his butt, and draped his forearms over his slightly bent knees.
Maggie hugged her knees into her chest. “There’s only one sleeping bag.”
Yup. She had no recognition of her surroundings. “It’s October in Texas. It’s close to eighty degrees, if not warmer. I don’t need a sleeping bag. You take it.” He laid down facing away from her, using a bent arm for a pillow.
“I can still feel them biting me.”
“It’s your imagination. Go to sleep.”
Cam sensed she made a face at his back. She was entertaining if nothing else.
Sleeping in the tent with Maggie wasn’t an option, so the plan was to wait for her to fall asleep then leave, make a fire and wait for dawn. Cam could just tell her the truth and leave the tent now, but he was ashamed of his problem. If possible, he’d keep his violent sleeping seizures his little secret.
Then he fell asleep.
# # #
“You drunk fuck!” Cam rolled to his stomach, punched, kicked and screamed.
Maggie scurried from her sleeping bag and crawled to the corner. “Wake up.”
He scrambled to his hands and knees and stared at her. His chest rose and lowered with dramatic form. Heavy breaths hissed through his clenched teeth. Sweat saturated his hair and clothes. His black messed hair only added to his rugged handsomeness.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He leapt at her.
Maggie jumped back but he snatched her wrist and dragged her under him. Saliva dripped from his snarling lips. Her eyes widened. Instinct told her not to struggle. Surely he’d wake at any moment, but as the sound of his labored breath reverberated throughout the small tent, she began seriously doubting her decision to come on this trip. What the hell was she thinking?
Cam lowered his head.
Maggie winced and held her breath.
This man was crazed, not the man who confiscated her hairspray just hours ago.
The weight of his large frame collapsed over her trembling body. The air from her lungs whooshed from her body. He covered her mouth with his, drowning her screams. The strength of the kiss pinned her head to the tent floor. His tongue forced its
way inside her mouth, exploring with a primitive desperation.
The feel of his weight on hers, his course palms on her face, the scent of the salt in his sweat drew a guttural groan from her. If Maggie’s head wasn’t spinning from the scent of his minty breath, she probably would have questioned why he changed his mind about her. Right now, she planned to devour every inch of his massive muscular body.
Cam’s fingers walked down her thigh and slid under her shirt. “You feel so good.” He pushed her shirt above her breasts and covered her hard nipple with his mouth. He licked and sucked while a hand slipped down her panties. Sliding two fingers inside her, he stroked, his fingers plunging and withdrawing at a tortuous and slow pace. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”
She arched her back and tilted her hips, urging his rocking fingers to sink deeper, move faster.
His head jerked back. He tugged her shirt to her waist. “Maggie?”
“What's wrong?”
Cam dashed from the tent.
Maggie jumped to her feet. Whipping the tent flap open she followed.
Pacing, his hands covering his face, he growled, “Don’t ever wake me from a nightmare.”
“It didn’t feel like a nightmare”
With his head down, he sprinted for the woods and vanished behind the shadows of the night.
Maddening!
She could kill him, that was if she didn't want to fuck him so badly.
When Jags told her Cam was pent up from sexual frustration, she could hardly believe it. Cam was rather big and rough around the edges which made him somewhat scary, but the man was hot as hell. And apparently practiced abstinence.
When she assured Jags Cam's vow of celibacy was on the brink of collapse, she did so with confidence. Absolute certainty.
Here she stood, in the middle of the woods, dressed in a T-shirt and panties, albeit wet panties, as sexually frustrated as Cam.
Maggie crawled back into the tent. The plan was to stay awake until he returned.
Then she fell asleep.
Chapter Nine
If this day was like the others, Jewel would take the seven to eight aerobics class and leave between eight-twenty and eight-thirty.