The Road Back to Us

by K. Webster

  “I remember teaching you some of my tricks,” he teases.

  He was right, all those years back. All I had to do was ask. Later that evening, the moment he experimented with his finger—after a lot of liquid courage on my part and a little lubrication on his—I came hard. So hard that it took some urging and relaxation for him to get his finger back out. I was horrified that my ass had nearly eaten his finger. But he, on the other hand, brushed it off, saying that he wouldn’t mind getting his dick stuck in there next time.

  “Do you remember the first time we tried, you know . . .” I trail off and blush.

  He drops the fork into the bowl and the clatter echoes through the cabin. “You better come eat,” he says gruffly and sits down in haste.

  I rise from the cot and walk over to him. He’s trying to hide his erection, but it’s as plain as day. Clearly, he does remember the first time.

  Holding back a chuckle, I sit beside him in the other chair. I’m momentarily distracted from my sexual memories when I take in the spread before us.

  “I always loved French cuisine,” I compliment as I lift my mug of warm water to my lips.

  “I take all the chicks out for French. It’s a shoo-in that I’ll get them in the sack later,” he teases with a wink.

  I notice that he’s pulled the meat from the bones, thank goodness, so I fork out the small chunks and quickly chew on them. I don’t realize how hungry I was until I’ve swallowed every morsel of meat and drunk the broth from my bowl. Now, I’m staring at it, hoping that somehow more will reappear.

  My eyes flick over to Bentley and find him licking his bowl.

  “I kind of wish we had more bird,” I groan.

  He sets his bowl down and smiles before taking my hand. “I know, baby. Tomorrow, I’ll do better,” he says as he rises from his chair. His cock thickens with each second. “Let’s go have dessert.”

  I grin and follow my husband over to the cot for what I know will be the best meal of our day.

  SHE’S SLEEPING IN my arms while I stare at the dying fire. We decided to head to bed early since we had nothing better to do. Even making love was requiring more energy than either of us had. So we settled for cuddling and retelling stories from early on in our marriage, which spurred on some exhausted, but fucking amazing, sex.

  When she asked what one of my favorite sexual times were, I couldn’t help but answer that it was our first time.

  “Ahh!” she cries as she digs her nails into my shoulders while I push all the way into her.

  I momentarily pause to relish in the way her tight pussy grips my cock. It’s almost as if I’m too big for this woman. For a moment, I worry that I’ll hurt her, but the pleasure of the way she feels around me has me slowly thrusting into her.

  “I love you, Care,” I murmur against her mouth, my eyes never leaving her blazing, blue ones.

  Her eyes are teary, either from the pain of breaking her hymen or the act of love itself, but I don’t see regret or fear.

  “I love you too,” she agrees.

  My mouth latches on to hers and I kiss her deeply as I make love to her. I’ve fucked a few girls in my past, but nothing has come close to the way it feels to be with Caroline. With her, it’s more than just fleeting sexual gratification. It’s way more. Love and desire and friendship are all wrapped into one feeling. Now that I’m finally having her this way, I’ll never be satisfied with anything else. She is my always and forever.

  “God, you feel so fucking good, baby,” I coo.

  I’m desperately trying to be gentle, but my nerve endings are screaming for me to slam into her. I won’t though. I would never hurt my Care Bear.

  “Will it always hurt?” she questions in a whisper.

  “Just this time,” I promise.

  I grin and kiss her hair. It smells like smoke from the fire, but she still smells like her. That first time we made love was fucking amazing for me but painful for Care. Fortunately, every time after was pure bliss. I made good on my promise.

  A yip outside of the door jerks me out of my thoughts and I nearly roll out of the cot.

  “Care!” I hiss my wife awake. “What was that?”

  She turns to face me and widens her eyes when we both hear growling and more animal noises.

  “Sounds like wolves,” I tell her.

  Fear flashes in her eyes.

  “I’m going to take a look.” I creep off of the cot and make my way over to the window. When I place my hands on the cold glass to peek through, I find myself staring into the steely eyes of a grey wolf that is common in these parts.

  “Shit,” I curse.

  The wolf growls loud enough to make the window rattle. I panic as I wonder if he’ll attempt to get inside with us.

  “Why are they here?” Caroline whispers.

  That stupid fucking bird. I made such a mess with it and used the snow to clean my hands, not even considering that the blood and guts would attract viscous animals.

  “I’ll scare them away,” I assure her.

  She nods and wraps the blanket around her. Turning my attention back to the window, I see that there’s a whole pack of them now—at least six or eight—prowling around in the snow. I snatch my gun up, just in case, and head for the door.

  “Git!” I yell and bang my fists on the door.

  The animals become louder, and Caroline shrieks. “What if they try to come through the window?”

  I grit my teeth as my mind races about what to do. “Come here,” I bark out at her. “If they see you, they’ll probably be interested in coming inside. We’ll stay out of their view until they go away.”

  She grabs the extra blanket up and pulls it through the rod above the window that held curtains at one point. Then she hurries into my arms.

  “Can you shoot them?” she questions.

  I shake my head. “I’m not opening that door unless I have to. There’re too many. We just need to sit quietly and hope they go away.”

  Squatting, I set the gun down and reach for the blanket that’s wrapped around her. When she hands it to me, I wrap it around my shoulders. Then I sit on part of the blanket and motion for her to sit between my legs. Once she’s nestled with her back against my chest, I lean against the door. From this position, I can make sure the door doesn’t get pushed open and I have a clear shot of the window should they try to enter that way.

  I lazily draw circles along her taut belly and sniff her hair some more. I’ll never grow tired of being with her this way.

  “Do you remember that time we were staying at your mom’s and something kept killing her chickens?” she laughs softly.

  I grin. That little incident almost got me a divorce much sooner than our recent problems did.

  “It’s time for a little recon, Ben,” Harley says with a puffed-out chest as he zips his camouflage jacket.

  I nod, knowing exactly what he wants to do, and begin throwing my own camo and hunting gear on.

  “What are you guys doing? You just came back from hunting. Plus, it’s getting dark,” Caroline says, briefly looking up from cutting apples for a pie with Mom.

  “Blondie, that animal is fucking up Mom’s chickens. We’re going to kill that bastard tonight,” Harley tells her firmly.

  She drops the knife with a clatter and glares at me. “Absolutely not, Bentley! That’s dangerous. And at night, no less.”

  “Care, Mom’s chickens are getting killed. We’ll figure out what it is and eliminate the problem. I’ll be with Mountain Man, so I’ll be safe,” I chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

  But it doesn’t lighten the mood.

  She fucking explodes.

  “What is wrong with you? What if it’s a twelve-foot grizzly, huh? Then what? Mountain Man will let you get eaten and I’ll be a damn widow!” she screeches.

  Mom tries to urge us to not go, for Care’s sake, but I won’t have it. She’s throwing a baby fit, and it’s getting on my nerves. I’m about to gripe right back when Harley interjects.

/>   “I’ll take care of the princess, sugar. No need to get your granny panties in a wad,” he laughs as he shoulders his rifle.

  I roll my eyes because his statement doesn’t sit well with her.

  “Whatever! Sure, I’m the unreasonable one. Go out there. See if I care. You’ll get eaten by a damn bear and I’ll laugh because I’ll be right,” she shouts.

  After stalking over to her, I pin her against the countertop, my body flush against hers. I slip my hand into her hair and pull roughly so that she’s looking up at me. Even though she’s pissed, a lustful look crosses her features at the way I’m handling her. Usually, I reserve that for the bedroom, but it doesn’t go unnoticed that she secretly enjoys it.

  “I love you, Caroline Harrison, but you’re being difficult. We’re going to go kill the fucking bear and we’ll be back by morning. Nobody is dying. And contrary to my asshole brother’s beliefs, I am not a princess. I don’t need protecting. I can handle my damn self. This is the end of this discussion. You can cheer up now, because I’m going whether you like it or not.”

  I crash my lips to hers and kiss her until she’s moaning into my mouth. When I get a swat to the ass with a towel from Mom, I finally break away from her and head toward the door. Before I leave, I toss a smug grin her way.

  “I want waffles and a bunch of fucking bacon waiting on me in the morning, woman,” I taunt.

  She flips me off. “I hope the bear eats you.”

  “You made me waffles even though you were pissed at me,” I chuckle and then kiss the back of her head.

  She turns and meets my lips with hers. “Yeah, you’re kind of hard to stay mad at. Plus, you made it up to me after breakfast.”

  Ends up, it wasn’t a bear killing the chickens. It was a cougar. Harley and I still argue over whose bullet killed the damn cat. I conceded only for the mere fact that Care never would have allowed a stuffed cougar in our home. “Sissy” still sits proudly in Harley’s living room along with every other animal he’s killed.

  “You got mad enough at me to file for divorce not long ago,” I say softly.

  We sit in silence for a few moments, both of us lost in our thoughts. I’m wondering how I could have even let it come to the end like that. Had we not had the accident, we’d be warm and cozy at Mom’s. I’d be on my laptop working and Care would be staring out the fucking window, waiting for the week to be over. Then we would have gotten a divorce and it would be over.

  I squeeze her to me. “I’m sorry, Caroline. For everything. Things will never go back to the way they were—ever. I promise you with every part of my being.”

  Her hand covers the arm I have wrapped possessively around her middle. “I couldn’t handle it if it did,” she admits.

  “We’re going to figure it out, baby. Don’t ever give up on me, because I vow to make it all better. I’m sure there’ll be days I’ll piss you right the fuck off, but hang in there for me. Remind me of this. I don’t ever want to lose this. I love you so much it makes me crazy, and I would be nothing without you. You’re a part of me, and I simply cannot survive without my other half.”

  When she starts to cry, I try to twist her in my arms so I can kiss her tears away. She finally faces me and straddles my legs. Her dry hands slip up to my overly scruffy face, and she holds my cheeks as if I’m precious to her. I hope to God I am precious to her.

  “I can’t survive without you either, B. I promise to always fight for you,” she tells me with tear-stained eyes.

  She presses her chapped lips to mine and moans into my mouth when I grab her ass to pull her closer. It hurts to kiss her and my body is weak, but I’ll worship her body until my dying breath. The wolves are long forgotten as we cherish each other.

  “I love you,” I murmur between kisses.

  My dick has grown hard and I wonder if it will fall off from fucking my wife too much. But when I urge her body over it and she sinks down, gripping it with her slick tightness, I figure that, if my dick is going to fall off, then I’d want it to be from this.

  We’re both exhausted and barely moving, but between her little bounces and my occasional thrusts, we eventually come together. I don’t have much to give, but what I do bursts inside her. And when I finally soften, I feel the heat of it trickle out of her and down the crack of my ass.

  I’d give my entire savings just to get a hot shower with my wife right now.

  She slides her arms around my neck and hugs me to her. From this position, I inhale her always-present scent. My arms tighten around her waist, and we hold each other.

  For seconds.

  For minutes.

  For hours.

  I’m not sure how long we hold each other, but I’m completely content with the two of us conjoined and intertwined.

  She eventually whispers in my ear that she loves me more than life itself. I’m already falling asleep, and instead of answering her back, I hug her in a way that says I’ll never let her go.

  And we fade into oblivion.

  THE GLASS SHATTERS, and a large, furry arm swipes the blanket away. Razor-sharp claws of a grizzly shine from the reflection of the fire.

  “Bentley!” I screech as I try to scramble away from the window.

  My husband is still sleeping and won’t wake up. And now, there’s a fucking bear crawling through the window.

  “Wake up!”

  But he doesn’t. He keeps snoring.

  I yank the rifle up and fumble in an attempt to figure out how to use the dang thing. Many times at his mom’s, Bentley showed me, but for the life of me, I can’t remember now. Raising the gun at the animal, I scream for it to leave.

  It lands with a thud on the floor and roars loud enough that I feel it in my cold, brittle bones.

  “No!”

  As it approaches my husband, I pull the trigger, but nothing happens. Over and over again, I try to shoot the damn thing but fail. The bear swipes a claw toward my husband and shreds the skin across his bare chest.

  “Wake up!”

  I blink open my eyes and realize that Bentley is shaking me from behind.

  “Care, something is pushing on the door, trying to get in,” he hisses.

  My nightmare is coming true. I reach for the gun and hand it to him since he’s clearly the one who’s better at using it.

  “Over there,” he orders as he nods toward the table.

  I scramble toward the kitchen area and drag the blanket out of his way. It’s morning now, so occasional cracks of light peek through as the door gets pushed on. As he fights against the door, I locate the ax and crawl toward it. Bentley has made it to his feet and is forcing the door with all of his strength against our attacker.

  “We’ll kill the bear,” I hiss as I raise the ax.

  My poor husband’s eyes are wild with fear and heavy with exhaustion. He obviously doesn’t want to do this, but in about a minute, that thing will be inside with us.

  “I love you,” I mouth.

  After he mouths it back, he tells me on three.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  He launches himself backwards toward me, away from the door, and aims the gun at the bear.

  But it’s not a bear. Even though the morning light is blinding me, the silhouette is clearly that of a man. And the long, wavy, brown hair tells me exactly what man.

  Bang!

  “Bentley, no!” I screech.

  The man charges my husband and wrestles the gun from him.

  “Care, kill it!” Bentley roars.

  But I drop the ax with a clatter.

  “Your shot is fucking horrible, brother,” the grizzly man laughs.

  It takes Bentley a second to clear the fog in his head. “Harley? About fucking time! I almost killed your ass!”

  Harley’s laughter booms in the small cabin, and he eyes us with a raised, dark eyebrow. “It’s the snowpocalypse and you two are butt-ass naked. Why in the hell are you not wearing any clothes? Did you not hear any of our survival conver
sation, brother? The one where I told you to stay warm?”

  Bentley grumbles as he saunters over to our clothes. “Close the door, dipshit. And stop looking at my wife.”

  Harley chuckles as he slams the door shut. I quickly throw my clothes on as Harley speaks again.

  “Not a thank-you for finding your city-boy ass? Blondie? How about you? Miss your ol’ broham?”

  The moment I slide my tunic on, I run for him and give him a hug. “Thank you so much. How did you find us?”

  Harley always tends to razz me, but I can feel the relief in him, because his body relaxes as he pats me on the head. “I followed all of the moaning. Anyone ever tell you that you’re a wailer?” he teases.

  I swat at him and push away to finish dressing.

  Bentley is scratching his cheek and staring at his brother in awe. “Seriously, man. Thank you. How in the hell did you find us? The car was nearly buried and we aren’t exactly close to it.”

  “I have half of Canada looking for your asses. But my buddies and I are the ones who figured out the vicinity of where your car had to have run off the road. After a long-ass day of searching, this fucking broken Audi dealership umbrella comes flying across the road like a damn tumbleweed. We located the car, but it was empty. Then we all sectioned off areas to search. When I came across this hunting cabin with a fucking Armani laptop bag hanging from a hook next to the front door, I figured I was in the right place.”

  Once we’re dressed, Bentley slings an arm over my shoulders. “Did you bring any food?” he asks his brother.

  Harley grins as he drops a huge backpack onto the floor. He roots around until he produces a couple of bottles of water and some bags of trail mix. “Start slow. Something tells me by the way Blondie’s ribs were sticking out that you two were about to fucking starve to death. If you eat too much at once, you’ll be sick.”

  Even though he’s joking with us, I can see worry etched on his face. My hands barely function as I attempt to open the small bag. But when I do open it, I dump a mouthful of the mix into my mouth and moan.