by Sam Crescent
“Sorry?”
“You can call me Anya. We’re not in office hours.”
“Anya.” He tested her name, loving the way it moved off his tongue, teasing his lips.
“See, not so hard.”
He chuckled.
“You know, you should do that more often.” Anya bent down to pick up a twig, swinging it in front of her.
“Do what?”
“Smile, laugh. It suits you,” she complimented, moving in front of him.
He chuckled again. She truly was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
A few yards further down, they hit a mud path. Nathan went first to see how bad it was.
“Seems all right, just take it slow.”
He could hear her grumbling, but the little firecracker took her first step into the mud.
She squealed as she almost slipped, her arms flailing, her legs wobbling. With luck, though she managed to stay upright and he, though he did not know how, managed to keep a straight face.
“Eww, I’m going to mess up my new boots.” Anya tiptoed along the dirt path, trying to avoid the thickest parts of the gooey mud.
“Anya, the point of boots is for them to get dirty and worn. You’re going to break your ankle, or even worse your neck. Just walk properly,” he demanded, the sophisticated boss back.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a decent pair of walking boots in pink? And how much they cost?” Hands on hips, eyebrow raised, she stayed stubbornly on tiptoes.
Nathan thought she looked incredibly cute. He wouldn’t tell her his thoughts, though, and instead he stood there waiting for her. A nice blush spread along her cheeks, the colour illuminating her pale skin. He imagined she would look like this during sex—hot, sweaty, approaching orgasm. Anya was blowing all his past assumptions about her to pieces. He rather liked this side of her, the woman rather than the bossy personal assistant. The two pigtails suited her much better than the matronly bun.
“I thought you’d have had enough pink not to need it in the shoes.” Nathan bit his lip, containing his smile.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Her body tensed, her eyes narrowed. He was a goner.
“Your hair…”
“Is red,” she snapped.
“Pink,” he teased.
“Red—whoa.” Arms wide, trying to steady herself, her concentration lost to the argument about her hair colour.
Too late, the mud turning into a skidding pit, she landed on her arse in a big humpf.
Nathan laughed a deep, throaty laugh. She went from cute to absolutely gorgeous!
“Oh, yuck, this will stain,” she groaned, trying to stand. “Disgusting.” The complaints kept on coming.
Nathan couldn’t stop laughing.
“Stop being a know-it-all-jerk and come and help me.” A fierce finger pointed at him and then at herself.
Still chuckling, Nathan came, taking hold of her hand—soft, delicate hands, he noticed—his fingers involuntarily caressing hers as he pulled, lifting her up out of the dirt.
Unstable, he went to hold her but lost his footing, falling onto his back as she landed on top of him.
Frozen in time, their eyes met, everything fading away. The cold was replaced by the heat created by their bodies. He cupped her hips through her jacket. Anya could feel his growing erection nudging her belly, begging for attention.
“My hands are dirty,” she whispered.
The tension evaporated. Nathan nodded, waiting for her to get off him.
Anya delicately moved away from him, trying not to knee him in the balls. She moved over to the stream, washing her hands in the freezing water.
“Do you want me to call us in, stop this exercise?” He pulled the mobile they’d been given out of his pocket.
She shook her head. “It’s no problem. A bit of mud is nothing.”
“When you’re ready, we’ll move on.”
She took a few moments getting her bearings and slowing her pounding heart. His cock had been poking her belly. She shivered, the butterfly clips she wore on her nipples tightening as they grew, filling with blood, her arousal running hotter than ever. She could feel the aroused flush spreading through her cheeks. Jumping up and down, she tried with all of her might to cover up her reactions to him. It wouldn’t do for her to become intimately involved with her boss, no matter how much she wanted to.
“Right, dirt mostly gone. I’m ready to win this race, sir.” Using humour to cover up her nervousness, she saluted him again.
They followed the path at Nathan’s instruction, climbing over fallen branches and tiptoeing over protruding rocks, working together as a team to get back to base—or get back to the pub. For several hours Anya followed him, wondering where they were going.
“Look, I’m all for the wilderness and finding nature, but if we don’t stop and eat soon, I’m going to pass out from starvation. These curves didn’t appear by themselves, you know.” She panted, her poor tummy growling for food. Even the rocks were starting to look edible—all she could see was southern-fried chicken with mounds of crispy golden fries. Yum.
Nathan looked around, nodding. “Okay. We’ll eat.”
Finding a space close to their path, they settled down, Anya rummaging around her sack.
“Sandwiches?” Disgust filled her voice.
“It is not some military experiment. A two-day kind-of-hike.” He smiled, taking one of the sandwiches from her. “Um, egg mayonnaise, delicious.”
It may not be southern-fried chicken, but right now she was starving. She took a huge bite, devouring the bread. Wow, egg mayonnaise had suddenly become a delicacy. “Man, that tastes so good.” She munched through her next couple of sandwiches in no time.
“Right, save some. We’ve possibly got two more days of walking to get through.” Nathan shook the crumbs from his clothes and stretched.
Grumbling but silently agreeing, she packed away the food, not bothering to see what other sandwiches they had left.
She copied Nathan, stretching her limbs, content that the ache in her joints was taking away the ache in more personal regions.
Smiling, she followed his path humming to herself as she did.
“So, how far away are we from our destination?” Anya asked to fill the silence.
“About nine miles,” he said, feeling confident, not even looking at his map to confirm.
“Cool. Would you be running if we were in a competition?” Curiosity was biting at her again. She wanted to know more about the man she worked for.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re a very competitive person. I’ve seen you inside the office over a challenge or anything against the clock—you’re always the first one there.” She waited for him to respond.
He turned to speak to her. “Put it this way. If we were in a competition, I’d be carrying you on my back and I’d be running. No second place for us.” He raised an eyebrow with a sexy, cocky smile, “Because I’m a winner!” Thumping his chest in a Tarzan-like motion, he burst out laughing.
Anya patted him on the back, giggling. “Do you have a loin cloth to match your attitude? That could improve my weekend.” Her voice was deep, sensual, filled with promise.
“You’re quite a free spirit.”
“Coming from a man acting like an ape, and who may possibly wear loin cloths, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She smiled, swinging her arms around, enjoying the fresh air, the space, despite the change in her plans for the weekend. Nathan Banks, her formidable boss, was turning out to be exceedingly good company. Maybe there was something else behind all of those appalling rumours. Anya was shocked by the sexual intrigue her body began to feel towards her boss.
Bad Anya! Very, very bad Anya!
She scolded herself over and over again. ‘Disaster’ was the only word to describe what would happen if she was to allow her hormone riddled-body to take control and sleep with Nathan this weekend.
She watched his tight arse sw
aying in front of her, moving, tempting her, making her wonder what he would look like in a tiger-skin loin cloth. She shook her head as her eyes followed his movements and looked away.
She looked above her at the beauty of the blue sky. A classic winter morning. Anya was sure she could sense snow coming, but Tarzan knew best.
“Where did you get your boots from?” Nathan asked her.
“The Internet.”
“Get me a receipt and I’ll pay you back for the damage.”
Aww, so sweet. “Don’t be bloody stupid. I was only teasing. I can afford new ones, and anyway I bought them to get dirty, silly.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder, playfully, giggling.
“Hey, you.” He cupped her waist, holding her to him, ruffling her hair.
“Oi, leave the hair. You called it pink earlier.”
“But a lovely pink.”
Anya sent him a glare.
“Okay—hot, sexy pink.”
She elbowed him in the stomach, playfully.
He squeezed her waist, holding her against him. Her body fitted perfectly.
The moment, so innocent, turned swiftly heat-filled. His hand caressed her hip. His other hand, thumb running along her collar bone, created oodles of sensation, making her shiver and gasp, wanting to feel more of him against her.
They both paused, their breath mingling in the cold air. The air ruffled the hair escaping from her ponytails.
For the first time, Anya felt uncomfortable, not because she was having personal feelings for a man, or because the man in question was her boss, but because she could feel that her reaction to him was different, more intense, the feelings devouring her emotions. The hardness around her heart was melting to make way for the man to sneak past her defences. “We really should move on.” Whispering, she moved away from him. Away from the possibility of feeling. Away from love.
Nathan watched her move forwards, holding onto a log as she climbed over a rotting tree root. She looked delicate but earthy among all the natural browns and greens and the wholesome smell of dirt. A natural at everything she did. The pale winter sky highlighted the deep red tones of her hair, making her stand out like an exploding sunrise, a multitude of colours combined together in a beautiful scenic view.
Soon he would be writing poetry about the colours of her hair, he mocked himself.
He was amazed by his recent openness, the way his humour had shone through. Never before could he have imagined beating his chest like an ape to impress a woman, to earn a smile.
How could he have been working with this woman and not seen the natural grace, elegance and beauty shining deep within her? The coldness was a defence against everyone so she wouldn’t get hurt. His eyes had been opened wide to everything she’d been trying to hide, simply by being with her. He began to wonder what had made her the woman she was today? Who’d hurt her? Hurt from a past lover, or just the hardness of the world? Either one was as bad as the other. He wanted to soothe the hurt, protect her from the pain and the struggle.
Shaking his head he dismissed his thoughts as they moved on together, covering a good portion of the walk.
“When we get back, I’m going to have a huge steak and chips, the lot,” Nathan said aloud. Thoughts of food were easier to deal with than the complications of this woman.
“We’re in a pub that serves Italian food. I think I’ll either have linguine alla carbonara or pollo alla cacciatore.” She rubbed her stomach, her mouth watering just thinking about it.
“You’re having what?” Nathan raised an eyebrow.
“Well, the first is linguine, a kind of pasta with a creamy-eggy-smoky-bacon type sauce. I have burned off the calories for the calories of thick, heavy cream—yum. The other dish is chicken with wine, tomatoes and other stuff—yummy and delicious and my taste buds are tingling, I saw them on the menu last night, but I wasn’t hungry then. Now I’m starving.” Her mouth was watering, her belly grumbling. “Can we please get back?”
Nathan nodded and they both picked up their pace, moving faster. Working as a team, helping each other, sharing water, sharing everything together. The intimacy did not escape either of them. Neither did the way they thought, their minds attuned to each other. Working as one.
At times they felt like a real couple, something neither had experienced in the full sense of the word.
Until they came up against a huge wall, unexpected, not planned for, with nowhere else to go. They would either have to go through it or go over it.
“Okay, so this has seriously dented my plans for an Italian dinner.” Anya looked one way and then the other, “Right, Mr Banks, any clues or help?” Hands on hips, Anya waited.
Frowning, concerned, he got out his map. There was nothing on the map that said anything about a wall. For the first time, Nathan was not so sure of where he was.
There was only one thing he could think of.
“Climb the wall.” Nathan folded the map, placing it carefully in his pocket.
“What?” Anya glanced from the wall to Nathan and back again.
“We need to climb this wall. I’ll give you a boost up. You’re too small to get over on your own.” He stood next to the wall, cupping his hands together so she would have somewhere to step up to.
“There has to be another way around. Here, let me double-check the map.” She put her hand out for him to give her the map.
“No, that wasn’t the agreement, remember? You control food and camp, and I control navigation. Now step up.” He nodded down to his hands, concerned about where they were and not wanting to embarrass himself if he’d made a huge mistake.
Groaning, Anya saw no other choice. She took one final look around and then pressed one foot into his tightly clasped hands. “Don’t drop me.”
“You’re too light to drop.”
She blew a raspberry, heaving her body weight unsteadily onto his hands.
“Whoa, steady.” She tensed, wobbling.
“Hold on to the wall,” he ordered.
“But my nails!” she joked, already holding on to the wall.
“Stop joking around and hold on to the god damn wall.”
“Stop cursing,” she complained, gripping the wall. “There is nothing to hold on to!”
“Just grip it.” Frustration marred his voice.
“Don’t yell at—Ahh!” Too busy arguing, she slipped. At the same time, instinct took over and Nathan reached up to steady her, to stop her falling and hurting herself. His hand, palm side up, cupped her between the legs. “Oh.” Frozen, Anya could not help the heat pouring from her mound.
Time froze as sensation increased. He aligned his fingers against her deliciously swollen clit.
She could hear his breath coming out in pants, but he wasn’t doing anything. Tired, bored and desperate, she wiggled her pelvis against his misplaced hand. Her head fell back, a scream of pleasure erupting from her lips.
“Anya…” He hesitated for a second before his finger pressed deeper through her clothing, pressing harder against her pleasure centre. Her mind focussed on his movement. Hours of searching for a way to relieve herself, and in a shock of fate she’d come in her boss’s hand!
“Oh my God,” she screamed, collapsing against the wall as a wave of orgasm, strong and overpowering, overcame her. Her eyes closed. She couldn’t hear a thing over the buzzing in her ears. Anya felt him gently ease her down, turning her so she was in front of him, but her eyes remained closed.
It didn’t just happen, she chanted over and over in her mind.
“Anya?” She kept her eyes closed. “Anya? Anya?” He repeated her name several more times, then he grabbed her jaw roughly, startling her into opening her eyes.
“There she is.” He didn’t remove his hands, holding her firmly, securely in his grip.
Anya noticed his eyes did not hold anger or disgust; more intrigue and confusion.
“What?” Her whisper was filled with defiance, daring him to ridicule her.
Nathan opened his mout
h to speak and then closed it, not sure what to say or even think. He never could have anticipated the events that had transpired between him and his personal assistant. Anya was proving to be the complete opposite to all of his ideas about her. The woman owned a vibrating purple fake cock, for crying out loud. The thought of her skimpy underwear left him salivating. Holy shit, this woman was turning out to be the woman of his dreams.
“What?” She snapped again, grabbing his attention.
“You truly are something else.” Nathan stroked a fiery red curl away from her face.
Anya leaned close to him, invading his personal space. “You’ve seen nothing yet,” she threatened.
His cock jumped in his pants as the natural, earthy scent of her release teased his senses, sending out promises he hoped she would act on.
Images of her in his life, his bed, were consuming him daily, hourly—Christ, every waking and sleeping moment was filled with thoughts of her in his life.
A snowflake fell between them.
“What the hell?” Panic erupted between both of them as they looked around.
“Could be the start of a snow storm.” Nathan pulled out the map, searching for a building or a barn, anywhere they could take cover. The need to protect her was fierce, knowing he might have brought them the wrong way. “A couple of fields away there is a house, according to the map.” He put it away, cupping his hands again. “Hurry.”
With no arguments this time, Anya did what she was told, stepping up and jumping over the wall. After a moment, Nathan landed effortlessly beside her. He took hold of her hand and they ran together as fast as they could, vision fast decreasing as the storm built into full force, the snowflakes thick and feathery, the cold nipping their fingertips.
“How much farther?” she called over the winds.
Nathan didn’t answer, but took her hand in a firm grip so they wouldn’t lose each other. They ran for the next five minutes, and Nathan was beginning to wonder if he’d made the worst mistake of his life, was about to give up hope, when he finally saw the house. Perhaps he’d not misread the map and they were back on course?
But as they got nearer it became clear it was an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. Nope, he’d taken a wrong turning somewhere.