Quinn I (Undaunted Men #1)

by J. C. Cliff

  Clambering out of my sleeping bag, well…our combined sleeping bags, I realize I’m bare-chested when the crisp, chilly mountain air slams into my body heat. I fight against the full body shiver that's getting ready to rip through me, and steal a deep breath, somehow managing to contain the tremors. Instead, thousands of goosebumps breakout across my exposed skin, giving me the much needed cold shower effect.

  Did I want her? Hell yeah, I wanted her. She is soft, curvy, and perfect in every way a real woman should be, except for the fact she’s pregnant. If her father ever found out what just transpired, I wouldn’t have to worry about owing him anything except the bullet he’d be shooting me with. She’s off-fucking-limits, no pun intended. God, I’m such a man-slut.

  Being half asleep, I had momentarily forgotten where I was, and it didn’t register who I was kissing; I only knew I wanted more. I've never had to tell myself no when I've had a sexy, warm, and curvy female body pressed up against mine through the night. It had always been a given that I could take when I wanted and how I wanted. It was invariably well understood that if a woman was in my bed, they were there for one thing and one thing only; which was me.

  But the moment our lips had touched, I felt our souls connect on a very deep, emotional level. It was as if I was in this dreamlike state, confusing fact from fantasy, because something that could feel that perfect was definitely too good to be true.

  I’m not one of those alpha, macho men who fight against the reality at hand, easily rejecting their emotions and feelings. It had simply been over a decade since I had last experienced that kind of distinct passionate reaction to a woman. There was no denying I had lost all sense of self-control in that kiss. The intense few minutes we shared are still fresh and raw, and I can’t help but replay them in my mind. My dick stirs back awake at the thought.

  “Fuck,” I curse under my breath. This isn’t good, not good at all. Even though she says she has no boyfriend, she’s pregnant with someone’s child. I can’t be thinking this way.

  And God, talk about waking up to a heart attack last night. I thought there was a bear in our camp by the way she was screaming. I know all about that PTSD nightmare shit, so whatever happened to her over the last couple of days has really messed with her head.

  Once I jostled her awake, I couldn’t calm her down from the nightmare. That’s when I got the bright idea to combine our sleeping bags so I could give her some human contact, let her know she wasn't alone throughout the night.

  I think about the lack of forethought in regards to her roughing it in the wilderness all by herself, and now that I've met her unpretentious and tenderhearted disposition, I can't fathom her going at this alone. It was a stupid move on her friend’s part, encouraging her to take off into the backcountry while being emotionally distraught. Having witnessed the enormity of her stress first hand, I’m glad her father dug in his heels, pressuring me to get my ass out here ASAP.

  Exasperated with unspent desire, I run my hand down my face and catch the scent of her arousal on my fingers. I groan in frustration, wishing to God I had a mug of fresh, hot coffee right now.

  I turn around in our little shelter and grab my shirt off the dusty floor. Although I packed some tarps to act as a tent, the shelter was nice to have last night. It was really nice to have the room to move around in.

  I’m wondering how to broach the subject of today's agenda. Will she want us to separate, or will we wind up joining forces? Given what she went through last night, and adding on to that her fear of bears, she might be very amenable to us pairing up.

  Kimber nudges my hand, forcing herself to be recognized. “Yeah, I know you’re hungry, girl. I’m on it.” If there is one thing I’ve learned, Kimber loves her food, and she’s going to make damn sure you don’t forget it. She dances around me in a circle, excited by the thought of eating, and I crack a grin. “C’mon, Kimber. You can help me get the food sack down.”

  “Do you need any help?” Lexi asks from behind me.

  I look over my shoulder and wish I hadn’t. Her long, dark hair is splayed out all over my pillow, and her nipples are poking out from her tight-fitting t-shirt, which hugs her breasts to perfection. I clear my throat and look away before I speak. “No, you just stay warm. I’ll be right back.”

  I quickly put on my shoes, needing to escape her proximity. What the fuck is wrong with me? It's like I can't get a grip on my sexual desire.

  I start off down the narrow trail to retrieve the food sack as Kimber runs up ahead of me, wagging her tail the entire way. As I breathe in the clean mountain air, I look at the sun-rays filtering in through the tree tops. I’m reminded of how refreshing it is to step away from my busy life every once in a while and unwind. I wouldn’t call this a vacation by any means, but let's face it—this is a simple, straightforward job, or at least it appears that way.

  As we’re packing up our gear from the morning meal, I casually ask Lexi, “So, how ‘bout it? You want to join forces for the next few days? Kimber can continue to protect you from predators,” I tease.

  “I…I don’t know. I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Well, it’s only if you want to.” I shrug my shoulders, acting indifferent. “No pressure, but daylight's burning, so you'll have to make a decision at some point before I take off.”

  She bites her lower lip in thought, or maybe it’s worry, I can’t tell. I guess she really hadn’t thought that far into her day. Stress will do that; it’ll mess up your mind to where you’re not thinking clearly. I silently wait her out as I continue to pack up my stuff, making her think I'm getting ready to head out now.

  “Well…only if you’re sure I wouldn’t be imposing,” she says slowly, her tone full of trepidation, as if she would be putting me out.

  I pause in my packing, glancing over my shoulder to look at her, and then reassure her, “You are not imposing at all. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it.”

  The relief is evident in her voice. “Yeah, I would like that. I’d like it a lot, actually.”

  “You hear that, Kimber?” I smile. “We’ve got some company, girl.” I swear Kimber understands what I just said, because she goes over to Lexi and nudges her nose underneath her arm, garnering her attention. I watch Kimber in action as she forces Lexi to stop rolling up her sleeping bag in order to get a few pets. I’m amazed how well she has taken to Lexi, and it’s been less than twenty-four hours. This beautiful woman gives my dog a genuine smile, and then takes the time to love on her, cooing silly things to her the entire time. It is plain to see she's an animal lover, and I can’t help but admire that quality in a woman.

  Once all of our gear is packed up, I ask, “So what route did you have planned out for yourself?”

  She looks at me sheepishly, and then shrugs her shoulders. “I was umm…I hadn’t really mapped out anything yet,” she mumbles, stumbling over her words.

  “Where’s your area map?” I ask, interested in seeing where she was headed. She silently ponders my request, looking reluctant, but then she surprises me by turning around to pull her map out of the side pocket of her blue pack.

  She holds it out to me, and I take it from her with a friendly smile. I begin to unfold it as I look for a flat surface to spread it out on. Now that I’m on my knees, bent down, and hovering over her map, Kimber takes an interest in what I’m doing.

  “Kimber, get,” I gruffly shoo her away, but she’s too excited and wagging her tail while she prances all over the map.

  “Dammit, Kimber,” I fuss with irritation as she tries to lick my face. Frustrated, I snap my fingers and point to my left side. “Heel,” I command, my tone all business, and even though her demeanor is a reluctant one, she immediately obeys and sits beside me. I can sense her excitement; she’s vibrating with energy, ready for the next task.

  I find out where we are on the map, and then take my time looking over all the trails. I point with my finger to a red circled spot on the map. “Is this where you’re heade
d?” I pause to look up at her for an answer.

  She bends down to have a look, and then nods her head quickly, as if speaking actual words will give away her secrets of being on the run.

  I study the map in silence for a few more minutes before I add, “Well, we’ll need to select which routes to take to get you there. We need to plan ahead for the most challenging sections on the trail, and most importantly, locate all the water sources along the way.” Even though I packed water purification tablets, as I'm sure Lexi did too, my preference will always be drinking fresh mountain spring water.

  I sit back on my heels now, studying her. She comes to sit down beside me, and then stretches her lithe, sexy body out and over the map, trying to study it for herself. A part of me wonders if she even knows how to read it. When she shifts on all fours to get a better look, I can’t help myself—maybe it’s part of being a guy—but I lean back a little bit to get the full view of her ass, and damn, is it ever fine. Perfectly shaped, full, and round, her jeans hug every curve with snug precision. I have the insane urge to reach out and smack that tight ass.

  She must sense my heated gaze on her backside, because she looks over her shoulder at me, and in a flash, I avert my eyes, faking interest in the map.

  I point to a random spot near our starting point. “You also need to decide your ETA. That will determine how we manage our time. What kind of timeframe are you on?”

  She sits back on her heels, then tilts her head to the side, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean what am I doing?” I almost falter over my words, hoping to God she doesn’t bust me for checking her out.

  “You make it sound as if you’re hiking with me all the way to my endpoint.”

  “Uh…yeah.” I make a face as if her statement was a no-brainer. “You said you wanted to team up for a couple of days, right? So I figured your end destination had more purpose than mine. Am I right?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so, but don't you have your own agenda?”

  If she only knew she was the agenda. I reassure her, “Kimber and I had jumped on this adventure last minute with no real timeframes or definitive plans.” I shrug my shoulders. “I came prepared with all the gear needed for wherever the trails would lead us. I always plan for the worst, but expect the best.” I tilt my head to the side and arch a brow. “You didn’t answer my question, though. What’s your timeframe for this hike?”

  She looks back down at the map, thinking about her answer. “I guess I’m not really on a time crunch. That’s why I don’t feel right taking you from your own journey. I was going to get there when I got there,” she softly replies, her words coming out sad and distant. “I really think I need to clear my head first before I go stepping back into reality.” She lifts her gaze from the map to look at me. “Does that make sense?”

  “Makes perfect sense.” I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my side in hopes of giving her some comfort. “I’m always game for an adventure.” I give her one last squeeze, then let her go before I begin folding up the map.

  Once every last detail is taken care of, and we’re ready to roll out, she takes off her moccasins and pulls out her hiking boots. I watch her closely, wondering why she hadn’t put them on before now, and then I notice her wince as she tries to work her foot inside the boot. Her flinching in pain is not a good sign. It irritates me that she's wearing brand new boots, surely even a horseback rider knows boots need to be broken in. Granted this trip was most likely planned in haste, but one thing I don’t tolerate very well, however, is a person who ignores their body’s warning signs. She’s failed the first rule of the trail.

  “You need to respect your physical limits, and communicate them,” I sternly warn. She whips her head around and looks at me, almost shocked, most likely because she doesn’t recognize my hard tone. I’m not happy as I jerk my chin, pointing toward her feet, indicating what it is that has me irritated.

  I walk over to her, bend down, and take her boot off as she protests, “Quinn, I’m fine.” She tries to pull her foot away, but I glance back at her with narrowed eyes, silently telling her I mean business. She stills, letting me remove her boot, and then I gently peel off her sock.

  Once I see the multiple blisters on her foot, I clench my teeth, trying to contain my annoyance. “Dammit,” I mumble.

  “It’s really no big deal. I told you I’m fine.”

  I drop her foot and get my medical bag out of my pack, ignoring her stoicism.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like, sweetheart? We have to address this; otherwise, you’re hiking abilities are going to go downhill fast.” I'm not doing a very good job at keeping the aggravation from my tone, and at this point, I really don't care. She needs to understand the seriousness of not conveying her injuries, and it kind of irks me that she's trying to pass it off as nothing. I look her in the eye and reiterate, “Don't tell me you're fine when clearly you're not. Playing the tough guy until it's too late does nothing but cause added pain and stress. When it gets to that point, you won't be the only one suffering.”

  She sits before me looking like a scolded child. Good, maybe it'll sink in. “I'm sorry,” she quietly apologizes. “I just didn't want to be a needy nuisance. You've already done so much for me, and I already feel as if I've inconvenienced you.”

  I steal a deep breath, trying to calm down. She's damn good at making me feel guilty for getting irritated with her. “Just start relaying to me what you're thinking and what your body is feeling, okay?” She nods her head in agreement.

  I kneel back down by her feet and open my medical kit, searching for an alcohol swab. “Take off your other sock,” I instruct, and she quietly complies, knowing I’m on a mission, and I’m not messing around. She remains quiet as I carefully clean both of her blistered feet with the alcohol wipe. Damn, damn, damn. She’s got quite a few large ones on her heels and toes, and they look rather painful. Still slightly incensed, I shake my head in disappointment as I clean around her blisters. I'm trying like hell to bite my tongue and not add insult to injury by continuing to give her a hard time.

  Once I have her feet dried off, I pull out my switchblade, and with the flick of my wrist, it pops open with a loud snap. She lets out a frightened squeal and speedily scoots back, pulling her feet out of harm’s way. Her eyes are wide with trepidation, and a grin escapes me. She’s too damn cute. I don't know how she's able to turn my emotions around so fast.

  “What…what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to cut off your feet, woman. What the hell do you think I’m going to do?” I quip, but she doesn’t find my sense of humor amusing.

  “My gosh!” she gushes, and I start to chuckle. She’s too easy to rile. I pull my lighter out of my pocket and start sterilizing the tip of my knife. “Quinn, this is not funny! You’re freaking me out.”

  “Give me your feet before they get all dirty again,” I order through a wide grin.

  “No!” She hugs her knees to her chest, not willing to give in.

  I stopped sterilizing my knife and let out a sigh. “Lexi, do you honestly think I would hurt you?”

  “Well…I don’t know. I mean, I just met you, you know. You could be some weird ax murderer just waiting for the right time to…” she trails off, waving her hand in the air, “…I don’t know, cut me into pieces, maybe.”

  I roll my eyes at her silliness. “With a pocket knife?” Kimber nudges her nose against Lexi's shoulder as she forces her way into her personal space. “Okay, since my dog is apparently so protective of you, do you think Kimber would let me hurt you?”

  She lovingly kisses Kimber on the snout and rubs her head. She’s instantly relaxed, and I’m left dumbfounded. Why the hell has my dog taken to her like this? It kind of makes me jealous.

  “Now that you have your bodyguard, I’ve got to drain these blisters. If they bust while you’re hiking, and trust me they will, it will add more h
eat and moisture to your feet, and then they’ll hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Do you really want to get these infected on day one?” I ask seriously, arching a brow.

  “No,” she pouts as she gives in, and then slowly lays her feet over top of my legs.

  “I plan on barely nicking the blisters to drain the fluid, okay?”

  I glance at her out of the corner of my eye as she nods her head, bracing herself for the upcoming pain and agony; it’s written all over her face. I give her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s not all that bad. I promise I’ll be careful.” Before I remove my eyes from her, I notice she holds onto Kimber a little tighter for moral support. I briefly close my eyes, praying for patience. I’m not used to having to put up with squeamish females.

  I carefully nick one blister at a time with precision, making a perfect pinhole, and then I gently express the fluid. I had to drain her blisters since they were so large. I’d guarantee they would’ve ruptured less than sixty-seconds into the trail. Once I’ve drained all her blisters this way, I squeeze a dab of Super-glue under the tiny skin flap to seal it shut. I cut a hole in the center of the mole-skin tape, and then cover up her wounds, being careful of the hot-spots. To her credit, she had made no protest during the process. She'd silently watched the entire procedure with interest.

  “All done,” I announce, patting her on the leg, and then I start cleaning up my mess. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

  “No,” she mumbles under her breath, realizing how much she had overreacted. She sits up and places her hand over my forearm. “Thank you, Quinn.”

  I stop what I’m doing and look at her. I mean really look at her. She’s got this innocence about her, and the way the light is playing on her natural features, she gives off this ethereal beauty. There is no way in hell she committed murder.

  “You’re welcome.” I clear my throat and lean back, looking for her socks. I want nothing more than to kiss her again right now, which is really unlike me. I hastily grab her socks from the ground and take on the task of putting them on her. I then grab her boots, helping her into them, and then properly lace both her shoes to minimize foot movement, which is what caused her blisters in the first place.