by A. J. Wynter
“I changed positions,” she said. “You’re the one who sexualized a simple movement.”
“You know that’s not the truth. You’re playing games with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you took out that bun and shook out that blonde mane of yours while undoing the top button on your blouse.”
“Mick. Are you angry?” she had asked.
“Of course, I’m fucking angry!” I had yelled. “I came here to get better and you’re fucking tempting me with every move that you make.
“Good,” she had smiled at me.
“Good?”
“Anger is good, the fact that you’re acknowledging your feelings is good. Mick, whether you believe it or not, you are making progress.”
I had seen her twice a week for three months. And while I still thought about bending her over her desk at every session, they were no longer the only thought in my head. I was able to have a conversation with her between thoughts about spreading her legs apart or imagining the marks her lipstick would leave at the base of my cock.
I knew that we were making progress, but that last session, the one that ended all my sessions, the one where I fucked my therapist, that’s the one that finally drove me to the hills… literally.
Chapter 17 – Lucy
“Hi, baby, what’s up?” Lawrence’s voice cut in and out.
“Hi, Lawrence,” I said, backing up and turning slowly, trying to maximize the cell reception.
“You’re cutting out,” he said.
Mick waved me over to the edge of the steep ridge and held onto my jacket.
“Is this better?”
“Yes, I can hear you now. How’s your girls’ weekend? Are you ladies behaving yourselves?”
He really had no idea.
“You haven’t spoken to anyone, or checked your messages?” I asked.
“Um. No, babe. I just turned my phone on.”
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or furious. He hadn’t been ignoring Tania’s calls, so he wasn’t a jerk, but he’d had his phone off for a day, which was just plain inconsiderate.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“What?” Lawrence’s voice crackled.
“Where are you?” I repeated.
“I told you, I’m at the Ames Founder’s Retreat on the coast.
“You didn’t tell me you were doing that this weekend,” I said. I realized that Lawrence hadn’t lied, I hadn’t asked him what his plans were while I was going to be out of town. I assumed that he was going to stay home and do school work and hang out with his buddies. The Ames Founders Club sometimes had meetings out of town, but he usually told me when he was going away.
I knew that I should tell him what had happened. That I was in a horrible car crash, that I almost died of exposure, and that I was shacked up in the mountains with a beast of a man. “Something happened, Lawrence. Something bad.”
“Oh, no,” Lawrence replied. “Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“What?” Lawrence's voice crackled. “I can’t hear you.”
“Lawrence?” I could hear him perfectly.
“You’re breaking up.”
I hadn’t moved.
“Lawrence. Can you hear me now?”
“Lucy, I can’t hear you. You can fill me in when you get home.”
And the line went dead, but not before I heard a giggle.
I stared at the blank screen on my phone. Why was there a girl at the Ames Founder’s Retreat? And why didn’t Lawrence seem worried about me?
“Is everything ok?” Mick’s voice asked from behind me.
I turned, the wind whipping my hair furiously against my face and freezing the tears in my eyes.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, still staring at the black screen of my phone.
“You’d better put that away, the cold drains the battery like you wouldn’t believe,” Mick said, pointing at my phone. My hand was freezing cold and I zipped open my jacket and shoved the phone into the inside pocket where my body heat could keep it warm.
“He doesn’t know what happened,” I said, my teeth chattering. My body was shaking, but not from the cold.
“How is that possible?” Mick asked.
“His phone has been off. He’s at some boy’s club meeting. He claims he told me about it, but I know that he didn’t. He’s the one that suggested that I go away with his friends’ girlfriends for the weekend. He even paid for the spa treatments.”
“Is it possible that you just forgot?” Mick asked.
“Would you forget something like that? Your fiancée going away for the weekend?”
“No, I don’t think that I would,” Mick said. “But hey, I’ve never had a fiancée, so you never know,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
“How is that possible?” I asked.
“I’ve just never found the right, um, fit. I guess,” Mick said.
“You mean, you’ve never been able to find a woman who can just pick up and move to the woods with you?”
“Yeah. They’re pretty hard to come by,” Mick said and then turned.
“We need to get back to the cabin. This clear weather won’t last long, and we need to get you back to civilization.”
I started to follow him and then he turned. “What did you say the name of his club is?”
“The Ames Founder’s Club – the AFC”
Mick tilted his head to the side. “That sounds familiar,” he mused, stroking his beard with his gloved hand.
“I don’t think that you would know it. It’s an exclusive Seattle club.” I used my mitts to make quotation marks in the air when I said the word ‘exclusive’. “Only Lawrence’s rich friends are members. They have a secret password, change the locations for their meeting, refuse to talk about what it is they do, but I think it’s just an excuse for them to get together, play poker, and drink.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a really old institution,” Mick said. “I think it goes back a few generations at least. I know that it was around when I was in college, but you’re right, nobody ever talked about the goings-on. There were rumors though. You know, crazy initiations, that kind of thing.”
“Do you remember anything else about it?” I asked, suddenly curious about this institution that I had heard next to nothing about.
“Not really. I can ask some of my colleagues about it. I think that I know some who were in it. I don’t know if they’ll tell me anything though. I think they’re like the Mason’s that way – tight-lipped.”
“Colleagues? Who the squirrels?” I laughed.
He laughed in return. “The squirrels are a lot more productive than most of my colleagues. I do actually have a job in the real world.”
We had been isolated together for two days and I realized that we hadn’t talked about ourselves at all. It had been so refreshing, but I felt like it was time to get to know Mick. Get to know who he really was underneath that rough and bearded exterior.
Chopper bounded ahead, taking advantage of the packed trail we had made.
I felt my sadness growing with every step. Each snowshoe step closer to the cabin was one step closer to going home. If I was getting what I wanted, why did it feel so wrong?
Chapter 18 – Mick
The snow crunched under our footfalls and I noticed that whenever I sped up the pace, Lucy followed suit. I wondered if it was conscious, or if I was witnessing her competitive streak.
“What did you say your specialty was on the track?” I asked as she held to my feverish pace.
“The eight hundred.”
“Why that one?”
“Well, it just happens to be the one that I’m the best at. I actually prefer the longer distances. There’s more strategy involved in those races, but my body seems to be best at this distance.”
“So, why don’t you run the longer races?”
“If I did that I wouldn’t have gotten a scholarship to Ames.”
“That’s why you do it? For the money?�
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“Not at first,” I heard her say through an almost imperceptible sigh.
“Why don’t you just run the races you love?” he asked.
“I wish that I could, but I needed to get a scholarship.”
“I guess that’s the tough reality for a lot of people these days. So, you just spend all your spare time training?”
She laughed again, “Spare time? I don’t even know what that is anymore. I train, I study, and I work.”
“Why do you work if you have a scholarship?”
I heard her footsteps stall, and she fell a little behind me. “If you must know, my older sister has cancer and it’s been debilitating for her. She’s been hospitalized so many times I can’t count them anymore. And once we burned through the small amount of insurance money from my parents’ death on IV medications, doctor’s visits, CAT scans, I had to step up. Taking care of Alanna is a full-time job. There are times when she’s so weak and can’t stand up that I have to bathe her.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear that.” God, could this girl be any more selfless?
“What are you studying?” I knew that I should’ve said more about her sister. Been more attentive to everything she had just told me, but truthfully, I didn’t know what to say. I remember when my mom was dying how it seemed like no matter what anyone said, it was the wrong thing.
This girl had found something she was good at, track, and used it to put herself through school so she could work and use that money to help someone else. I didn’t think that people like her existed. I definitely hadn’t come across any woman, an angel, like her in my life.
“Biochemistry.”
I smiled to myself, “Let me guess, you’re going to find a cure for cancer?”
“How did you know that?” She stopped dead in her tracks.
“Lucy, forgive me if I’m wrong, but you seem to spend your life doing things for other people. It would only make sense that you would focus your studies on trying to help your sister. But what about you? If you didn’t have to get a scholarship if you didn’t have to cure your sister, what would you do for you?” I was genuinely curious.
“Well, in that dream world, one that doesn’t exist, I would be a painter.”
My heart went out to her. The world needs more Lucy McKennits. And Lucy deserved to be able to follow her dream. I took the two steps required to bridge the gap between us and kissed her again. Not the passionate, ground-shaking kiss we shared on the way up the ridge, but a lingering meaningful meeting of our lips. I took her face in my gloved hands and let my forehead rest on hers. When I pulled back I saw that she had tears in her eyes. Was she thinking about her fiancé? Her sister? Me?
She put her mittened hands on my wrists and pulled my hands from her face.
“We should get back,” she whispered.
“Yes. Yes, we should.”
“But…” Lucy continued. “Not before we turn this interrogation on you,” she smiled and pushed me on the chest. I knew that she was trying to break the tension between us, and well, it worked.
“What do you want to know?” I tried to act cool, but inside my head, I was trying to figure out how much of the truth I wanted to tell her.
“You said that you have a job and that you’re not just some weird hermit.”
“I do. I fix helicopters.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Technically, it was the truth. I had transformed a failing helicopter company into the most successful private heli operation in the west.
“That’s the last thing I would’ve guessed, your hands don’t look like a mechanic’s hands and I guess I missed all of the coveralls in your closet.”
“They’re all in my Seattle penthouse.” Truth, kind of, not coveralls, but suits.
She laughed. I realized that based on what she had seen, the idea that I would have a penthouse would seem preposterous.
“Along with your collection of Monets.”
“Actually yes, that’s exactly where I keep my Monets, along with my Rolexes.”
Again, the truth, but by the way that Lucy was giggling, I knew that she thought that I was joking.
“Where do you hide your perfect wife and family?” she giggled.
“I haven’t been lucky enough to get one of those yet.” Again, that was the truth, but it wasn’t until I spoke the words out loud that I realized that, underneath it all, that’s what I really wanted. I wanted to have a beautiful wife and give her some babies.
“Ah, so a mechanic with a penthouse.”
“You’ve pretty much got that bang on.”
“Who spends months at a time living in isolation with none of his material possessions.”
She hadn’t seen the helicopter.
“You got it.”
I could tell that Lucy was confused. The truth that I was spouting out was so ridiculous, she couldn’t tell whether or not I was joking.
“And I’m a sex addict.”
She howled. “This just gets better and better! Let me guess, you moved out here to get away from the temptations of the real world.”
“Are you a mind reader?” I feigned disbelief to mask the fact that she had me pegged to a T.
“Well, maybe when we get back to your cabin, I can get the real truth out of Mick… Mick, what’s your last name?”
“Brady.”
“Well, Mick Brady, when we get back, I’m excited to hear all about your playboy ways.
“Your wish is my command,” I said and swirled my hand around and bowed to her. “Race to the cabin?”
“You got it!” she shouted and bounded past me, Chopper hot on her trail.
I turned and ran behind her, wishing that time could stop so I could bottle up the sound of her laughter to keep in my cabin once she was gone.
Back inside the log cabin, the fire had burned down to embers, but it didn’t take much to get it roaring again.
“Would you like a coffee before we head back?”
She was huddled up on the couch with a quilt wrapped around her, an extra pair of my wool socks on her feet.”
“I would love that Mick, but I really think that I should get back to real life as soon as possible.”
“Okay. I understand. Hey, I have one question for you though. How do you fit in time with your man, when you have literally no free time?”
“We don’t actually spend that much time together. He likes the fact that I have my own life and he has his.”
“But you two, you have a good relationship, right?”
“Yes, I think that we do.”
That was weird. “Think that you do?”
“Well, I don’t really have much to compare it to. Because I’ve been so busy, I’ve never really had time for a serious relationship.”
“Ah, so you’ve left a sea of broken-hearted men in your wake.” Maybe we had more in common than we thought.
“I haven’t had a boyfriend, or a casual relationship, or a one-night stand.” She was growing defensive. I know that women always try to downplay their past, but I got the feeling that I had touched on a sore spot with her.
“Well, as long as you’re happy,” I said. It was a cop-out way to end the conversation even though I wanted to keep pressing her. How could she be so happy with someone and kiss me the way that she did?
“I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible, Mick.”
I knew that she was right. I could try to get her to linger here longer, try to keep the feminine of her in my masculine space, but it was pointless. She was engaged to another man, and she would be out of my life in a matter of hours.
It dawned on me like a ton of bricks. I knew where I had heard of the AFC before. I looked at Lucy out of the corner of my eye, her chestnut hair falling softly on her shoulders as she laced up her boots. She didn’t say it in so many words, but if I was right about the AFC, it meant that she had something sexually unique to offer. If I had to guess, I would say that Lawrence was checking the virgin
off his list.
I had to stifle a laugh at the irony of the situation in front of me. Of all the women in the world to be trapped in a cabin with, me, a fucking sex addict, had been holed up in a blizzard with a virgin. A fucking virgin.
“What’s up?” Lucy said, looking up at me.
“Ah, it’s just…” I hesitated. I could be wrong. Lawrence could be with Lucy because she is a damn fine woman, but something inside told me that this beautiful human being was being used as part of a cruel game. But, before I said something to Lucy, I needed to be absolutely sure.
Chapter 19 – Lucy
I saw the look on his face when he put two and two together. I didn’t have to say it in so many words, but he knew. He knew that I was a virgin.
Mick buckled the straps of an avalanche beacon over my shirt and quickly explained how to use it. I zipped up my coat and shoved my hands into the two-mitten system he had invented for me. “I’m ready Mick,” I said holding my mittened hand out for the snowmobile helmet.
He handed the matte black helmet to me, but it slipped through my mitts before I had time to grasp it. His hand darted out and caught it before it could hit the floor. The man had some serious cat-like reflexes.
“Let me get that for you,” he said and pushed the tight-fitting helmet onto my head. I lifted the visor and tried to brush my hair from in front of my face.
He sighed, “People usually put their gloves on after their helmet.”
“Well, back in Beacon Hill, we put our gloves on before our snowmobile helmets.”
“Touché,” he said. He leaned forward and swept the stray strands from in front of my face and tucked them into the edges of the helmet. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you.”
“Beacon Hill, huh?” he said while sliding his own helmet over his face, his piercing blue eyes staring at me from the recess of the helmet. “Parts of it were really sketchy back in the day, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, as a hermit, you’ve probably never been there,” I said. I had to change the conversation. As a rule, I never tell anyone where I grew up. I would love to say it’s not because I’m embarrassed, but I am. I came from nothing, and after our parents died, my sister and I had bounced around through the system, foster home to foster home.