L.A. Caveman

by Christina Crooks

  She'd just bet he had.

  He darted a glance at the cabin. She followed his gaze. Close up, it was smaller rather than larger. She wondered if Jake'd have to duck his head going in the door. He seemed to be wondering about getting into the home too. "As far as a way inside... if it’s locked I actually have no idea. Yet."

  She looked at him quickly.

  "Maybe the door's unlocked again," he offered. She looked back at the little house. A skinny porch looked hardly big enough to support someone's weight, but the tiny flare of roof above the door offered moderate shelter.

  They hurried through the downpour over the small arched bridge and past the picket fence. They hopped up the rickety porch steps and lunged at the door. Stanna wiggled the handle.

  Locked.

  Jake pushed her to the side and tried it himself, adding his weight against the door.

  Still nothing.

  "Maybe the windows?"

  "Shutters. They latch from the inside." Then a thoughtful expression crossed his face. Silently he trotted down the stairs and gazed up at the roof. "Stanna?" he asked.

  "Yes?"

  "Do you know First Aid?"

  "No."

  "Oh well." He shrugged off his backpack, tossed it to the foot of the house where the little ridge of roof would shelter it from some of the rain. Reaching up, he grabbed a corner and with one violent lunge swung his legs onto the roof. He hauled the rest of himself up in a dazzling display of upper-body strength. Quickly, he maneuvered himself in lithe, muscle-rippling movements up the gentle but slippery slope.

  To the chimney.

  Stanna realized what he intended. "Jake!" She meant it to be an angry yell, but it came out a fearful shriek.

  He paused. Waved. Then lowered himself feet-first under the cone-shaped mini-roof of the chimney and disappeared.

  Stanna listened for the thud.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Stanna waited on the porch with her heart in her throat, breathing shallowly, but all she heard was the steady sound of rain falling. She faced the front door with hope and dread.

  Her body began to shake with the chill and tension. She became conscious of her own backpack sliding down strengthless arms.

  He had to be okay. She didn't know First Aid, so he had to be okay. Those were the rules, she firmly told any benevolent deities tuned in to her little drama.

  The sudden click and clatter of locks being turned made her jump. Then she was leaping forward to help open the door and he stood there just inside, smudges of dirt streaking his grinning handsome face and it was the most natural thing in the world to fling her arms around him and plant a heartfelt kiss on those amazingly warm lips.

  He returned the kiss enthusiastically.

  His lips moved with instant mastery over hers, parting them to thrust his hot tongue into her mouth. After the chill of the rain, his heat nearly made her swoon.

  His muscular cable-hard arms held her against him effortlessly. His hands moved over her, rubbing her back up and down gently. The demanding pulse of desire that throbbed through her left her aching.

  He ended the kiss. His eyes glowing mere inches from hers, he ruefully told her, "I suppose I should rescue my pack before the rain destroys our dinner." He held her a moment longer. He shook his head, bemused, as he finally dropped his arms from around her. "You’re a very interesting woman, Stanna."

  She tipped her finger, right back at ya. "You aren't putting me to sleep, either." Understatement of the century.

  Breathe, Stanna, she reminded herself as he brushed by her. She felt a smile curve her lips. Her mind paraphrased Jake's statement into her own thought: this was turning out to be a very interesting day.

  She took a step further into the house, hearing a creak and feeling the wood floor give ever so slightly beneath her sneaker. It was getting dark, so she unlatched and cracked open the three shutters enough to let in the fading afternoon light.

  There wasn't much within the four walls of the house. A large, wide cook place/fireplace with a neat pyramid of firewood stacked beside it dominated one wall. An antique cot lay tucked against the opposite wall. And between them, against the third wall, perched a small rickety table-sized hutch with some bowls and plates and utensils within it and a large half-melted white candle on top. One chair. There wasn't anything else. There wasn't room for much else, but it could have used some personal touches, she observed. She supposed the starkness could be Hollywood's idea of period realism.

  The star must be a guy, she concluded.

  The door shut softly behind. Jake lay her backpack at her feet and paced to the one chair. He took a seat to unzip his own larger backpack. He pulled out matches, lighted the candle. The orange-yellow glow warmed up the gray light filtering in through the shutters.

  Then, as naturally as if the little cabin were his second home, he stepped to the fireplace, lifted some cords of firewood from the stack, and proceeded to expertly start up a cozy hearth fire.

  Stanna smiled in appreciation of his take-charge approach to their trespassing. He knelt before the mouth of the fireplace. She admired the way his blue T-shirt clung wetly to his broad, powerful back. Glancing down at her own white tee, she was glad for the extra concealing layer of her athletic bra.

  She shivered.

  They were both a bit underdressed for a rainy evening on a mountain.

  Then she remembered the picnic blanket she'd packed. She grinned wryly. It was supposed to be used as something to sit on while they ate cheese and crackers in the sunshine.

  She sat on the cot, pulled the blanket out and draped herself in it.

  "You'll be warmer over here by the fire." His melodious rumble seemed to warm her insides all by itself. Fire? Who needs fire?

  "I'm fine," she said shortly. He was entirely too appealing, basking his powerful body in front of the licking flames like some kind of primitive hunter.

  He pivoted languorously until his back was to the fire, his aqua eyes turned black by the backlight of the flames.

  She felt she was in the room with a predator, and shivered again, this time with pleasure.

  Jake felt the fire's heat beating into his back, but it was nothing next to the radiating inflammation of his desire.

  If she kept looking at him with that innocent hunger, he’d... he would... what? Make love to his columnist? He swore softly at himself. She was his employee and totally off-limits for what he was thinking. He tried to ignore his discomfort. She couldn't help that her damp tan shorts and white shirt, combined with her rain-slicked blond hair, made her look like a fallen angel. Or that the blanket she draped so casually around her didn't quite hide the telltale nubs of her erect nipples.

  She didn't share his lust. He had to remember and respect it. He shifted uncomfortably. To distract himself, he rummaged in his pack, came up with sandwiches.

  He heard her unzip, looked up sharply.

  Her backpack.

  He shifted uncomfortably again. She reached again into her own backpack and fished out Ritz crackers and Cheez Whiz, offering them up solemnly. He held up his sandwiches just as solemnly. They both smiled at the same time, and he wondered if she were as warmed by the simultaneous nature of it as he was.

  "I have something," he whispered conspiratorially to her, still smiling. He reached back into his bag.

  "Oooh, what do you have," she whispered back, playing along.

  "Voila!" He pulled out a bottle of Pagor Tempranillo red wine and two gaudy purple plastic wine glasses, complete with bumpy stems in the shape of grape columns. She clapped delightedly, like a small child. "All right!"

  Charmed by her reaction, he modestly said, "I don't know how well it will complement the sandwiches--"

  "It's perfect," she emphatically assured him. She glided from the cot and sat in front of him looking so happily pleased that it was all he could do not to lean in and kiss her again. He held back by an intense effort of will.

  She had no idea how sexy she was, with her smal
l body gracefully folded beneath her. Her face glowed from the fire and her gray eyes sparkled.

  He wolfed his sandwich without tasting it. She tore into hers pretty quickly too, he noticed. Trust a day of exercise to sharpen the appetite.

  He watched her gulp her sandwich then nibble slowly on her cheese and crackers, wondering if his arousal would ever go away. Would she inadvertently stimulate him all night? The thought of Stanna stimulating him all night stimulated him further.

  There was no winning.

  As the fire burned lower, they reclined in front of the warming flames.

  Stanna took a sip of wine. "Mmm. Good stuff… Jake?" she lazily queried, licking wine from her lips. She stretched out her feet -- clad now only in white socks -- toward the fireplace. "Are we going to head back down the hill, or stay here tonight?"

  She didn't mean it to sound so sultry. She only meant… she peeked at him. When she saw the expression of pure desire on his face, she gasped. "Jake…" she whispered.

  She watched his face darken with some inner struggle as he put his wineglass down.

  "Yes."

  She tingled at the sound of his voice. She heard his voice change, becoming deliberately rough and callous. "I'm going to give you about three seconds to move your cute ass away from me."

  His cruel mouth was set in its most ruthless lines. Why on earth was she responding so fiercely to it? To him? Ever since they'd kissed just inside the door, her arousal had remained at an all-time high. It was a pleasant sensuality quite foreign to her.

  Move away from him? She didn't think so.

  She tilted her head up defiantly, smiling slowly at the thin line his mouth made.

  She heard him make a small noise. Then a strained, "I don't think you realize--"

  She made a purring, guttural noise of desire. She couldn't help it, watching his expression reflecting his struggle. That involuntary noise of hers was evidently his undoing.

  Groaning deep in his throat, he grabbed her forearms with a restrained ferocity and crushed her against him. Again his mouth plundered hers, his wine-flavored tongue stroking hers in a sensuous dance.

  He swept her up easily, his lips not pausing in their movement on hers. He held her cradled to his hard chest. His sinuous rocking panther-walk, one she’d enjoyed watching so often, now carried her effortlessly to the cot, which he knelt before. He gently lowered her, breaking their kiss. In a tender, unexpected gesture that made her feel precious, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek.

  She was aware of the briefest cold of not being in his arms. She protested. He didn't give her murmured complaint time to exit her mouth before he slid over her, the thin cotton of their clothes no barrier at all.

  His strong hard body covered hers. She breathed in the clean masculine scent of him, a spicy musk mixed with smoke and rain. His mouth locked onto hers, and he pressed the full length of his body against hers for a moment. A startling hardness pressed between her legs. A surge of pleasure made her tremble. He felt it. The movement of his lips against hers felt like a smile.

  His strong arms straddled her. They lifted him above her in an effortlessly sustained push-up and his darkened blue-green eyes bored into hers. Heat, sizzling, barely restrained. But it was restrained. He rolled to his side, his left hand restlessly roaming over her, expertly taking possession of her body.

  He watched her eyes, she thought wonderingly as his fingers stroked her body in a slow exploration. He liked reading her reaction, she realized with a warm flush of heat. Tingles coursed over her skin wherever his fingertips wandered, over her clothes and underneath them. His small admiring glances to her gradually revealed body always returned to her eyes. His commanding stare demanded that she return it, and she did. His aqua eyes filled her sight, glittering down with dark heat. She read his own rising powerful lust, watched him hold it in check.

  His adept hands radiated heat on her skin as he removed her shirt. He lingered over her athletic bra, seeming to enjoy tremendously the way her breasts, compressed by the tight cotton material, bounded forth when he removed it.

  Her pleasure spiked almost painfully when he lowered his silky hair over her chest and breathed warmly on her bared breasts. His lips, then teeth, grazed her nipples. He pressed her breasts together and took both nipples into his mouth. She hissed in a shocked gasp at the slick, hot sensation of it.

  Tonguing her expertly, lovingly, he explored with his mouth while his restless hands slipped over her bared belly. A delightful shiver of wanting ran through her. His mouth and his touch, firm and persuasive, invited more shivers.

  She couldn't resist him if she tried. The thought spiraled through her head dreamily. He evoked sensations as elemental as fire, as right as the first man who ever touched the first woman, and she wouldn't have it any other way. The thought had a significance that Stanna tried to grasp, but Jake's talented fingers were removing her shorts and delving underneath her flimsy cotton panties and the resulting slam of exquisite delight chased every thought from her head.

  She heard his harsh, uneven breath. His arousal stoked her own even higher, if that were possible, making her reach for him wantonly. He felt so wonderful… She tugged him closer, but he resisted. His hand played, deliberately teasing, drawing jolts of sensation from her body. Every fiber of her being sizzled with the pleasure he inflicted on her. She writhed beneath him, eager to touch his skin.

  "You like that?" His hot whisper in her ear, far from distracting, added another dimension to his loveplay..

  "Yes..." she whispered back. "Please..." She had to acknowledge the commanding smile of pleased masculine confidence was entirely justified.

  He removed his shirt and shorts quickly, pausing to touch her as if he couldn't stop or help himself. When she saw the evidence of his desire, she gasped. He was huge and hard and leaning over her once more. His hands, never still, skillfully lowered her panties.

  She could feel the heat of his entire body slipping against the length of hers as he firmly, almost violently parted her legs to lie between them. The heavy heat of his manhood nudged against her thigh. His hardness electrified her entire body, and as she felt the hard, frighteningly large part of him push roughly inside her in a raw act of possession, she soared to an awesome, shuddering climax.

  When her vision cleared again she felt him still throbbing inside her. Her body shivered with delight when he began to move again, invading her further with his insistent manhood. She moved tentatively under him. His ragged breath and his soft oath encouraged her.

  Caressing his back and buttocks, she pulled him deeper. She ran her tongue up his salty chest, enjoying the clean-sweat smell of him and the fuzzy feel of his chest hair. He responded by roughly dragging her against him, impaling her deeply. A delicious shudder rippled through her body, and she felt his trembling as he teetered on the edge of his own climax. He thrust in an ancient, almost punishing rhythm, tormenting her with new waves of pleasure.

  Knowing she gave the same pleasure to this magnificent man triggered her own, even more intense climax. As she exploded into a million stars she heard her own loud cry of pure animalistic joy. His moan meshed with it as he accompanied her into bliss with his eyes locked on her, narrowed in a pleasure so intense that it seemed to pin her, joining her to him in spirit as well as body.

  She liked the feel of his body on her, and loved his eyes as he gazed down at her. She was filled with an amazing sense of completeness. Her breathing began to settle into a more even tempo. His eyes... now they were a warm shade of green-blue. And caring. Vulnerable, even.

  She stared up in wonder.

  His eyes got closer... closer... and then she felt the gentlest warm touch of his lips against hers. Their eyelashes meshed delightfully as he stared into her eyes a moment longer. His expression reflected her wonder. His arms gathered her to him and cradled her.

  A totally unexpected surge of affection went through her as she wrapped her arms around him. She returned the kiss, and her heart skittered
alarmingly. She knew then that she loved the big, dumb Neanderthal. She loved him, and her breath caught as she looked at the shape his lips made as they disengaged from her own.

  Her heart thudded in an emotional reflex that she couldn't control. The unsteady beat of it seemed to articulate the warning: danger, danger, danger...

  But, of course, it was already much too late.

  They cuddled under her picnic blanket in a ball of body-heat generated warmth. Stanna stretched luxuriously, enjoying the deep tenor of Jake's voice as much as his words. His hands were warm on her skin, stroking soothingly.

  "The house is tiny because they created the set scaled-down. It makes the characters look more heroic. Bigger."

  "As big as you?" she teased.

  "You'll never have the opportunity to compare," he growled mock-fiercely, but with a truly possessive glare that Stanna took delight in. She lowered her head so he wouldn't see her wide, pleased smile. Her eyes focused on the worn, weathered flooring.

  "What's the show? Who’re the characters?"

  He nuzzled her, nipped her bared neck. She shivered under the blanket. "The show is 'Shaman of the Sky.' The main character, everyone just calls him “Shaman,” is the here who lives here. He's an alien from another galaxy who magicked himself accidentally to Earth in the 18th century, and set up shop using his healing powers for the good of mankind. Cold?"

  His voice rumbled through her, felt as much as heard, generating heat all by itself. He ran his warm palm over her hard, erect nipples. She melted, but managed to lie. "Yes, icy cold. I'm afraid I need more of your body heat. Or else..." she gasped when his magic hands slipped under the blanket, "...or else I might become frigid."

  "Can't have that." His eyes began to glow again with their own type of soft and melting heat. He pulled her against him firmly, and she felt his body rock-hard against her. Her own body trembled with anticipation of more pleasure to come. She met his devouring gaze with a ferocity of her own. She dipped her head to nibble on his shoulder like a playful animal. She listened to his groan with satisfaction and felt another wave of affection that took her by surprise. She wanted to please this man so very much.