by J. C. Cliff
“For trying this delicacy of mine.”
“It’s actually pretty good. Tastes like chicken.” She shrugs her shoulders as if eating rattlesnake is an everyday occurrence. I look at her with pride, then turn to make myself a plate.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of movement, and then out of nowhere, Kimber leaps up and scurries off. I turn around and watch with curiosity as she runs to a spot about five feet behind Lexi, sniffing the ground. My mouth gapes open. I can’t believe what I think I just saw happen before my eyes.
“Am I seeing things?” I question in a high-pitched voice, waving my spatula around. “I know you did not just spit that bite of meat out in your hand, and then chuck it over your shoulder.” I point my spatula at her accusingly with a raised brow. “I know you did not just do that.”
She has guilt written all over her face, her lips forming a thin line, and then she gets all squirmy. When she doesn’t answer me, I call her out. “You really enjoyed that, did you?”
I grab another piece of meat and then lean toward her. I slowly trace the fire-roasted meat over her lips, encouraging her, “Second one tastes even better.” Her lips are tightly pressed closed as she shrinks away from me. “What's wrong, my little Yankee angel? Don’t go bashful on me now; there’s plenty to go around.”
“Quiiinn,” she drawls out my name on a whine.
“Yeesss?” I mimic her, the deep baritone of my voice questioning her.
“All right, all right, I’m sorry,” she confesses, exasperation lining her voice. “I was just trying to impress you, and in my defense, I chewed it as long as possible. It tasted like chicken chewing gum,” she declares, making a face as she crinkles her nose. Internally, I’m bursting with laughter as she makes excuses. “And the more I chewed, the more I thought about what I was chewing, and it just wouldn’t break down in my mouth.” My shoulders start to shake, and I can’t school my features any longer.
She swats at my chest, and I grab her wrist, pulling her into me as I break out with deep laughter. “Now, was the truth so hard to tell?”
“Don’t I at least get credit for trying it?” She then pouts, displaying her doe eyes of innocence.
“It’s only when you swallow that you get credit for being a real woman,” I tease.
The air is cool on my backside, the skin on my face overheating. The fire is hot, almost singeing me. I watch her as she stares, unblinking, mesmerized by the orange glow of the embers. Nothing but the snapping and popping of the hardwood fills the silence between us. I think to myself how amazing it is how quickly you can get to know someone, all because you’re with each other twenty-four-seven, with zero distractions to interfere. Not being preoccupied with phones, computers, shopping, and all the other mundane chores people are tasked with everyday makes a huge difference. In the short time we’ve been together, I believe we’ve created a real and genuine bond.
This will be our fourth night together, and I have to say I’m getting used to having her around. We’ve both grown accustomed to sleeping together every night, but my dick hasn't; I go to bed hard, and I wake up hard. I'm just glad I haven't made the moves on her in my sleep again like I did the first morning we woke up together. Maybe when I’m half asleep, my body subconsciously knows better than to touch her like that even though it's dying to.
I take another sip of whiskey from my flask, swallowing the hard liquor, allowing it to burn my throat and warm my insides. This is the first night I’ve broken into it. I needed something to dull my want for her, but I’m not sure it’s working. In fact, I think it’s having the opposite effect on me. I nudge her arm with the flask, seeing if she wants a taste. She wrinkles her nose at the offer, and I chuckle at her. No sooner than I take another swig does it dawn on me I had just offered a pregnant woman alcohol. The sudden thought has me almost spitting out what’s in my mouth. Dammit, Quinn, I internally berate myself for being so stupid. What the hell are you thinking?
When Lexi woke up this morning her muscles were a little stiff and sore. I didn't need to give her my famous speech about stretching and hydration, because admitting her foibles was the first thing out of her mouth when we woke up.
We wound up taking our time today and only hiked about fifteen more miles southward. I’m more than okay with the slowdown, because it means we’re not getting to her destination anytime soon. The more time I spend with her, the more I want her, and I’m fairly certain she feels the same way. I'm getting more and more flustered about all the secrets, though. I'm ready for some answers. My mind has been spinning all day from the thousands of questions plaguing me, because she’s still not opening up to me. Her secrets are locked down tight.
I look at her silhouette, the firelight reflecting off her olive skin making her look like a goddess. She's been quietly staring into the fires flames, deep in thought. She’s so damn beautiful and doesn’t even know it.
Reflexively, I lean over and grab her by the waist, encouraging her to come sit between my legs. She easily complies, but decides to sit sideways. She rests her cheek against my chest as I wrap my arms around her, providing her some comfort and warmth. It's obvious we've grown accustomed to each other, one of us is always touching the other in one form or another. I automatically kiss the top of her head and hold my lips against her as I blatantly breathe her in. It must be the alcohol loosening my inhibitions and my mouth, because I tell her what I'm thinking, whispering, “You’re so damn beautiful. You know that?” She shakes her head, disagreeing with me. “Well, you are, and I know I can’t be the only one who’s told you this.”
“They’re all delusional.”
“Oh?” I counter. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugs her shoulders and sighs. “I don’t know. I’ve never considered myself to be pretty. I’m just me. I’ve always struggled with my weight, and that alone has wreaked havoc on my self-esteem.”
“Well, I think you’re perfect.” I tilt her chin up, her amber eyes glowing against the bright firelight. "What were you thinking about over there?”
“Mmm,” she lets out a soft sigh and smiles as she thinks back to her daydream, “I was thinking about how nice and peaceful it is out here, therapeutic actually. Being out here has given me a much needed reprieve.”
“A reprieve from what?”
She lays her cheek against my chest, but keeps eye contact. “So much crazy stuff has happened in my life recently.” She frowns, and then takes a deep breath, to let out a sigh that speaks of many burdens. “My life is literally upside down right now, and I don’t know how to handle it, but when I'm with you, my life feels right side up.”
I’m slightly taken aback by her candidness. “I really don’t know what to say to that.”
She waves me off in a display of misunderstanding. “I’m sorry. I’m not unloading on you or—”
“No,” I interrupt, “that’s not what I meant.” I cup the side of her face and stroke her cheek tenderly with my thumb. “I don’t know what questions to ask, or what to say to make it better for you.” It must be the look of lust I’m giving her, because the mood has shifted, and the air has turned thick. “I'm glad I can turn you right side up, but what I'd really like to do is turn you inside out.”
I let go of her cheek and watch my index finger slowly trail a path down the length of her lithe neck. I pause when I feel her pulse; it's beating wildly through her veins.
When her breath hitches, my eyes flick back to hers, and then I grow bold, my voice turning raspy, “I want to kiss you all over, and taste you from your lips to your silky sex.” I’ve lost all resolve as I lean forward and whisper over her mouth, “Would you like that, Angel?”
I seal my mouth over hers, and she opens up to me, allowing me to slip my tongue inside her warmth. I groan when she runs her tongue over mine in a firm stroke of seduction. Slowly, my fingers graze down toward her breast, her overheated skin burning my fingertips. She arches her back, pushing that luscious tit into my hand. I squeeze around her
fullness wishing she was naked for me.
“I’ve been dying to kiss you like this all day,” I huskily whisper between passionate kisses. I pinch her nipple between my fingers and she moans, sparking a fire that strikes me straight in the groin. My dick twitches, and my breathing picks up. My God, but I want her.
I’m at war with myself. The connection between us is undeniably perfect, but I know I can’t take it any further than this right here. I reluctantly break the kiss, and I close my eyes in anguish, my teeth clenching together from stopping myself from what I want to do.
My heart races when she places her hand low on my stomach, and then she slowly inches her fingers toward my erection. I tilt my head back and growl into the night air when her fingers start to unbutton my jeans.
When I look at her, she’s staring up at me with need and desire. “What are you doing to me?” I rasp as I thread my fingers through the back of her hair and pull her into a heated kiss. I swipe my tongue over hers, our kiss growing into something almost frenzied. I feel the waistband of my pants loosen and her fingers trace over the edge of my underwear.
Her fingertips touch the tip of my dick, and I damn near see stars. My heart pounds in my chest. I want everything and more from her. She wraps her hand around my shaft to firmly stroke my length as if she's milking me. The pad of her thumb glides over my slit which is slick with precum. A shiver rolls through me when she fondles the crown of my dick, massaging the wetness into my sensitive head. My balls tighten, and my breathing stops.
I'm having a hell of a time resisting her which is why I can't believe I'm about to do this. I hate myself a little as I gently wrap my hand around hers, stopping her movements. My dick is throbbing in protest as I nip at her lip with unspent passion, and then I lean my forehead against hers before I explain, “I want us to go slow. I don’t want whatever is happening here between us to be rushed.” Fuck my life. I never knew those words existed in my vocabulary. I’m going to die of blue balls out here, all because I have a conscious and can’t let us go too far. Until she opens up to me about her secrets, our relationship will have to stay platonic. Secrets...that's a deal breaker.
She looks embarrassed for being too forward with her sexual advances. She removes her hand from around my shaft, and I groan in torment. I shouldn’t want to fuck her; it’s all kinds of wrong, but the chemistry is undeniable. God knows I need to keep it in my pants. Besides the fact her father would kill me, I can’t be fucking a pregnant woman, especially this one. This will be a first for me, as I can’t remember the last time I ever turned down a beautiful woman’s advances, if ever.
I try to put her mind at ease.
“God knows I want you, Lexi,” I huskily whisper. She has to see the look of desire in my eyes and hear the strain in my voice. “I want to make sure we’re doing the right thing. You’re not typical one-night stand material, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.” She nods her head in understanding, but still looks lost and dejected. I didn't help our heated situation either when I voiced my desires. “Who says we can’t have a high school make out session, though?” I grin. “You’re one hell of a kisser.” I recapture her lips, and I swear her kiss unravels me every damn time.
Maybe kissing her again under the influence isn’t such a good idea. I want to bury myself inside her slick heat so bad I can’t see straight. With my resolve beginning to wane, I let go of her lips, pull her into me, and simply hold her tight, willing my erection to go away.
For someone who’s so wrong for me, she feels so right in my arms. I run my fingers to the back of her neck, threading them through her hair, and lightly massage her tense muscles. She softly moans in pleasure, and I think of what it would be like for her to moan in other ways, or to hear her scream my name.
I have to stop and ask myself if I even want her more than once in a sexual way, because I don’t do repeats, and that wouldn’t be fair to a woman like her. She’s the kind of tenderhearted girl men like me don’t have a right to, not unless we plan on making something of it.
I’m so damn conflicted, because let’s face it, with me not wanting anything to do with the mafia, let alone her hidden secrets and pregnancy, there is no way things could work out.
I let out an audible sigh. I can’t fucking believe I’m even thinking like this, and taking the time to have a debate with myself. I haven’t had anything next to a serious relationship for over a decade. If I started something out here on the trails, I’d be trapped in it for days, and then there would be serious ramifications waiting for me at the end of the journey, in more ways than one.
Leather…I inhaled its newness as the glove pressed hard over my mouth. I closed my eyes against the nightmare and prayed. Time was ticking away, and every second felt like an hour as he kept his hand clamped over my mouth, preventing me from screaming for help. Help? I almost laugh. I knew there was no help in sight, he had me alone and at his mercy.
“I know what you did, Lexi,” he rasped in my ear, pressing the front of his body against mine. “I saw it all. You didn’t think anyone knew, but I followed you.”
My breathing became heavier as I breathed through my nostrils. I wasn’t getting enough air. Combine the lack of oxygen with the amount of stress I'm under, I began to feel dizzy. His large hand was powerful enough to contain both my wrists, which he pinned above my head. I squirmed in vain; he was too strong. He’s always been too strong, overbearing, and conniving. Even growing up together, he’d been the one to manipulate people with his artful and crafty ways, but back then, it was all fun and games. Now he played for blood and power, and he was damn good at it. He was a thinker, a Machiavellian, always looking for a way to advance himself. I never stood a chance against his intellect growing up, and I sure as hell didn’t now.
“I found the gun you discarded, Lexi.” My eyes bolted open, my chest heaved, and I wanted to scream. “There is no escape for you.” Somehow I was able to shake my head back and forth, my way of refusing him. “You think you can get away from me?” He scoffed. “Try again. I’m the only one who can protect you from going to jail for life, sweetheart.”
I bolted straight up, out of a dead sleep, and almost head-butted Quinn. I’m soaking wet, drenched in my own sweat, and breathing heavily. We haven’t slept apart since the first day we met, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without him each night. He's been chasing my demons away since day one.
“God, Lexi.” Quinn’s voice is raised, but he’s not exasperated; he’s terribly worried. “We really need to talk about this.” We go through this every night. He wakes me up from my bad dream, and then he wants me to get things off my chest. I tell him no, he cuddles me, and then we go back to sleep.
“I’m okay, Quinn,” I lie.
“You’re not okay. You’re shaking all over.”
“I’m getting better at this, I think.” I give him a fake smile, trying to pass my dreams off as nothing significant, just like I have every night since I’ve known him.
“Dammit, Lexi, stop making light of this,” he argues, irritated with me now, but nevertheless, he cradles my head into his chest, providing me comfort. “Your nightmares are not normal. You might be getting better at dealing with the aftermath, but they damn near give me a heart attack every time. You don’t want to give this old man a heart condition, do you?”
“I’m sorry, Quinn.” I really do feel bad for waking him up every night like this. “You’re right. This isn’t fair for you.”
“No, no, no.”
“What?”
“You’re not going to suggest we go ahead and separate, because that simply isn’t happening.” He started and ended a discussion in one sentence, leaving me speechless. His hard tone tells me his declaration is not to be reckoned with. I relax into him, thankful for his protectiveness and willingness to stay with me.
My skin is still clammy, and I shiver from head to toe when a cold mountain breeze skirts across my damp t-shirt. “Oh, Angel,” Quinn sighs. He pulls away from me, and
I lose more warmth, and shiver again. He peels off his own t-shirt in the dark, and I bite my lip, stifling a gasp. The last time he was shirtless was the first night I slept with him. He distracts me with his dark muscles that flex only inches from my eyes, having me forget all about my nightmares.
“Let’s get you out of this wet t-shirt,” he suggests. I let him blindly find the hem of my shirt and lift it up over my head. He tosses my damp shirt toward our feet, and then quickly pulls his oversized t-shirt down over my head. I slip my arms through the sleeves and instantly feel special. It’s an unexplainable feeling being all wrapped up in something that is Quinn’s. “Better?” he asks, tapping the end of my nose. My lips curve in a small smile because Quinn has this magical touch. He’s always able to make me feel better, no matter what.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome. Let’s get some shut-eye.” He lays back down, extending his arms out for me to snuggle in to his embrace. I lay my head down between his shoulder and neck as he wraps his arms around me, making me feel whole. I rest my hand in the center of his chest, and I have to say—touching the bare skin on his chest is to die for. He has just enough hair to make him manly and sexy, and a whole lot of muscle that would make a nun drool.
“I really am sorry, Quinn. I don’t mean to wake you up like this every night.”
His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath, and then he slowly releases it. “I really wish you would trust me enough to open up. I don't like seeing you go through this every night.”
I frown, because I know he wants to help me, but I’m in such a mired entanglement not even my father and half the police force could fix my mess. I don’t want to pull him into my drama, plus it's not safe for him to be with me for much longer, and I already feel sad about that. If I unloaded my secrets, telling him everything, I know for sure he’d be gone by daybreak tomorrow.