by Ruby Dixon
And really…the only thing that’s driven him to actually kiss me is jealousy. So that camping trip with Pat? Totally on.
I’m strategic about things, as well. My apartment’s across town, but I decide to head for the Lodge straight from work on Friday. And I make sure to wear my ‘sexy’ camper clothing. I have a tiny white undershirt that peeks out from under a red flannel shirt that’s been artfully hemmed by the local tailor so it emphasizes my breasts. I let it gape open, naturally. I pair this with a pair of cute, rather brief cargo shorts and some cute hiking boots. My hair’s fixed into two long, curly pigtails over each shoulder, Elly Mae Clampett style, and my red lipstick is out in action. When I’m satisfied that my appearance can’t be improved on, I check my teeth for lipstick stains, pop a mint, and then shoulder my backpack for the saunter across Main Street.
If Cole sees me, he doesn’t come out of his store.
I’m super disappointed. I even walk a little slower, just in case he’s busy with customers. No dice. With a sigh, I give up and head toward the Lodge.
Pine Falls is a cute, touristy sort of place with one main street full of shops that more or less lead up to the Lodge, where all of the winter happenings start. I don’t know more than the bare details about it, except that there are a lot of skiers and dog sled teams and the like. My business isn’t the guys as much as it is the wives left in town who don’t want to be all sporty, though.
The Lodge is just up the hill from the main road, but it takes me forever to hike up there with my backpack. Guess I should have driven. By the time I make it up to the front of the Lodge—the meeting place for Pat’s group—I’m huffing and sweaty, and my oh-so-carefully arranged curls are now sticking to my forehead and neck.
I’m three minutes early, but Pat’s waiting in the main lobby of the Lodge already. He’s wearing a flannel shirt like me, and ours are both open with a similar number of buttons undone for a sexy gape. That’s…weird on a guy. I fight the instinct to button my own shirt a little higher in response.
Pat flashes a grin at me, his teeth toothpaste-commercial white against his tanned face. Actually, he doesn’t look tanned as much as he looks spray-tanned. His hair’s perfectly tousled in the way only good product can manage, and his jeans are tight. The bag he hauls over his shoulder looks brand new, and I’m always a little surprised at Pat’s appearance. Aren’t mountain men supposed to look a bit more…rugged? Pat’s definitely metrosexual. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just odd in a trail guide.
“Addie!”
My smile becomes a little more forced. If I’m honest, I hate the nickname ‘Addie’. Probably because no one ever says my full name…except Cole. Damn it, I’ve still got Cole on my mind.
Pat moves toward me and his arms go out, and I realize he wants to hug me. Okay, weird. I give him an awkward half-hug and pull back quickly. Maybe he’s just super friendly. We’ve been occasionally chatty here and there, but nothing that warrants hugging.
“Or is it Lady?” he says as I pull away.
“Huh?”
“Is it Addie, or Lady?”
Ugh. Seriously? It takes work to keep the smile on my face. “Let’s go with ‘Addie’.” I think I’ll puke if he really starts calling me ‘Lady’.
“How we doing today?” He rubs his hands and looks eager.
“I’m great.” I scan the Lodge for other campers. It’s pretty empty right about now. Off-season, I tell myself. “Looks like I’m early.”
He gives me another dazzling smile, and takes my pack from my shoulder and hefts it onto his.
“Um, I can carry that.” I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be part of the plan of roughing it?
“Nonsense,” he says, and puts a hand on my shoulder to steer me. “And you’re not early. It’s just the two of us tonight.”
I stare at him, planting my feet. “Wait, what?”
“It’s just the two of us tonight,” he says, and either winks or has something in his eye. God, I hope it’s the latter. I’m starting to get a weird feeling about all of this.
“But…I thought this was a group tour.”
“Oh, it is,” he assures me. “Tomorrow night. Tonight it’s just us. You said you wanted to rough it, so I’m taking you to one of my favorite spots. We’ll just need to watch out for bears and other wildlife.”
“I don’t know if I want to rough it enough to warrant a visit from bears,” I tell him nervously. “Maybe we should just wait for the rest of the group—”
“Trust me,” he says, and puts that steering arm around my shoulders again. “You’ll love this, I promise.”
“No, really—”
Pat pauses and looks shocked. “Are you worried about being alone with me?”
“What? Don’t be silly.” I wave a hand, trying to dismiss my fears. “And um, I guess, a little. It’s just weird, you know?”
He leans in. “Between you and me, I don’t know how much of campers the others are going to be, so I thought we’d hit all the cool spots today and tomorrow, and swing back to get them for the kiddie shit. But if you’re uncomfortable—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” I say, despite the weirdness of the situation. I did ask to rough it. I did ask to see a few of the local spots. He’s giving me what I asked for.
I can’t be weird about this. Pat guides groups out all the time, a lot of them full of women. The nervousness is all in my head.
•••
It’s not in my head. Pat’s a creep.
It started out innocuously enough, but the longer we hiked up the mountain, the more convinced I became that this was a bad idea. For one, he left the trails behind, telling me he knew a ‘shortcut’.
‘Shortcut’ seemed to mean ‘cut through the trees and bushes and forge your own path that even Bigfoot wouldn’t want to take’.
As we walk and my legs get bitten by bugs and slapped by branches, I worry about tonight. I’m not interested in Pat. Like, not even slightly. He’s a nice guy, but there’s something a little…heavy-handed about his jokes that’s pinging my rape-dar.
“So where’s this great stargazing spot?” I ask for the hundredth time as I watch the sun disappear behind the trees. “You said we were almost there?”
“We are,” he agrees, and checks his wrist-compass. “Isn’t this some great scenery?”
“Lovely,” I agree. And it is pretty. Everything’s alive and lush with early summer…including the black flies. I slap at one that lands on my arm. I hear the crinkle of paper and see that Pat has his back to me. Curious, I move forward to peer over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
“Hm? Nothing!” He hides something that looks suspiciously like a map.
“Are we lost?” I ignore the quiver of terror in my stomach. Cole was right, I think, then squash that idea.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Pat says, and then gives me another toothy smile. “We’re just taking a breather to enjoy the twilight air.” He inhales deeply.
I slap at another bug.
“Are they biting you?” he asks, all concern.
“Everywhere,” I agree. He should have mentioned that I’d need bug spray, but all he’d told me to wear was a smile. I’m really regretting this trip. I should have waited for Cole. After all, what’s another three years to a lonely virgin? I sigh.
“Sit here,” Pat instructs me, and his hand on my elbow steers me toward a fallen log.
As he does, I hear a branch snap in the woods. I turn, scanning the trees. It’s dusk and so it’s getting harder to see. “What was that?”
“Probably just deer—”
“You said there were bear in this area—”
“It’s just a deer,” Pat repeats, and presses on my shoulder. “Sit and let me look at your legs.”
I sit as instructed, and the moment I do, he picks up my foot and slides a hand along my calf. A startled “Eeep!” escapes me.
“Oh my,” Pat murmurs, stroking my leg. “It’s a shame to see these
beauties all torn up. You poor baby.”
“I’m fine,” I say, and try to jerk my foot back. This trip has gotten Officially Weird.
He doesn’t let me have my foot back. In fact, his hand strokes over my knee and then to my thigh, where I slap it away.
“Hands off!”
“Don’t be like that, Addie.” He gives me a flirty grin. “You want me to rub some lotion on you? I’m real good at making girls feel better.”
“Ew. Just leave me alone.”
Another branch snaps in the woods.
He doesn’t let go of my leg, and I do my best to kick his crotch. “I’m serious, Pat. This is not funny. I’m not interested in you like this!”
His smile grows harder around the edges. “Don’t be a fucking tease. Why else would you want to come up here with me alone if it wasn’t to get laid?”
I gasp. “Because of nature! And I didn’t want to be alone!”
“You don’t have to play hard to get anymore, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m a sure thing.” And he reaches to slide a hand up my thigh again.
This time, it sounds like something’s thundering through the woods…and heading right in our direction.
Chapter Five
Cole
After the last tour group gets kitted out, I close up shop and head for the Lodge. Eli’s place serves as the meeting ground for most of the tour groups, even if they aren’t headed up by Eli and his crew. He allows it, figuring that doing a solid by the townsfolk will play in our favor should the secret of our otherness get out.
Eli thinks it’d be good to come out. Up here, people are mostly pragmatic and practical and would be less likely to turn us into circus animals than down in the cities. I don’t have an opinion either way. Living with humans doesn’t mean we are humans, though.
I find Eli in his office overlooking one of the many tributaries that make up the Boundary Waters—massive amounts of fresh water that separates the US and Canada.
“Good to see you, Cole,” Eli says absently as he paws through his mail. “What can I do for you?”
“You get my message about the Samson thing?” I ask. There’s a plate of cookies sitting on the edge of the desk, and I sweep up five before Eli can protest. “Jesus. These are fucking amazing,” I mumble around a mouthful of soft gooey heaven. “What’s in them?”
“Honey. Sugar. Butter? Fuck if I know.” He removes the plate from my reach. “You don’t have to worry about Samson’s group. I reviewed the trails he plans to take them on and they’re all baby courses. Even Samson should be able to make it through those hikes without any injuries. There are no night events either. Everyone is either checked in here at the Lodge or one of the cabins.”
“Actually I saw Samson go out today with someone,” chirps Dillon who comes in to steal a few cookies.
“A girl someone?” I ask suspiciously.
“Yeah.” He reaches for more, but Eli growls a low warning, which makes Dillon back off. “I think it’s the lady who runs that girly place in town. The one with pillows on the sign in front of the building.”
I jump out of the chair and glare at Eli. “You said no one was going out until tomorrow and definitely no overnight camping.”
He raises his hands as if to fend off a blow. “This wasn’t on his agenda.”
This time it’s me who does the growling. Eli and Dillon’s ears flatten against their heads in response. Dillon backs up against the door and lowers his head.
I spin on my heel. I don’t want to fight Eli or his cub. It’s Samson that I want and Samson that I’m going to have. “I have to go. What direction did he take?”
“I think he was going toward Bass Lake Trail.”
The Superior National Forest isn’t for amateurs. There are things that live in these dense forested regions that no human should come into contact with.
“If you’re thinking of shifting, there’s a house full of human guests the west side of the Lodge. You’ll probably want to avoid them,” Eli advises. “What will you do if you catch her?”
“When I catch her,” I correct him. “I’m going to take her home and make sure she understands the Superior National Forest isn’t safe for her without a guide from here.”
“And that’s all you plan?” he asks. It’s clear he’s been talking to Leo.
“Adelaide is a human,” I remind him, and exit the office. He follows me.
“Just because Eric Christiansen had an unfortunate run-in with his girlfriend doesn’t mean the same thing can happen with you. You’re older and you have a lot more control of your animal.”
“I won’t risk it with Adelaide.”
“Then what does it matter if she’s out with Pat Samson?”
“Because she’s mine.” I bare my teeth and take off, ignoring Eli’s hearty chuckle behind me.
It doesn’t take long to shift. The beast is just underneath the skin, and calling him forth takes no more effort than scratching an itch. I pick up Adelaide’s scent along with a putrid male one. I don’t make any effort to quiet my lumbering through the woods. I want Samson to know I’m coming, and if he shits his pants in fear…so much the better.
“Don’t be a fucking tease.” I hear Samson order. “Why else would you want to come up here with me alone if it wasn’t to get laid?”
“Because of nature! And I didn’t want to be alone!” Adelaide exclaims.
The yelp and slap that follow get swallowed by the crashing of my eight-hundred-pound body through the underbrush.
“What the fuck is that?” Samson cries.
“Where are you going? Stop that! Come back here, you asshole!”
When I reach the small clearing, Adelaide is watching Samson’s back retreat down the slope.
“Oh my God!” she screams, and starts to run down the same way Samson took. I lunge past her, chasing after Samson. With a giant grizzly hot on his heels, Samson runs faster than Usain Bolt, and we leave Adelaide far behind us.
The acrid smell of urine wafts up and I veer off the path to avoid stepping in Samson’s piss. Finally, his weak human legs give out and he collapses near the edge of the woods. I crouch down into a lunging motion and that’s enough to spur Samson into gear again. He jumps up and runs to his Jeep. After a couple of false starts, he peels out, spitting up gravel behind him.
Satisfied he’s gone, I hunt for a clan cache—a hidden hold in the ground or around a tree stump that contains clothes and food for the bears and other creatures that shift. I find one halfway back to Adelaide, but the fit is off. The cubs must have stocked this one. The pants don’t zip all the way, and end around my ankles. I pull on the socks and forego the shoes entirely. The T-shirt strains at the seams. If I even stretch, I might rip the thing. I tie the plaid flannel around my waist and position it so my damn cock isn’t dangling in the wind.
I hurry back to where Adelaide was left behind and find her on the trail, holding a twig like a weapon. Tears have dried in streaks on her face, and there are big red welts forming from the mosquitoes. Damn Samson. He didn’t even prepare her.
Her fine breasts are going to be one big bug bite if she doesn’t get out of the woods soon.
“Cole, what are you doing here? Did you see the bear? Oh my God, it was so huge. I thought it was going to eat me,” she half-laughs, half-shudders.
“You have any bug spray?” I ask, ignoring the questions.
She nods. “I lacquered it on, but the bugs are still eating me up.”
“You got to cover up.” I pull the flannel from my waist and drape it over her chest. “Give me your bottle,” I demand.
“It’s in the pack.” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder.
I grab her hand and march back to the clearing. I try to ignore the electricity that heats up the minute we make contact, and the fact that my pants are now being held up solely by my fully erect cock. There’s no chance in hell she doesn’t see it.
“What are you doing here?” she presses.
“I think that’s my qu
estion,” I shoot back. “I told you not to come out here with Samson.”
“Well, I guess you didn't give me a good enough reason to stay in town,” she replies pertly.
I wish she wasn’t so goddamned irresistible. Why couldn’t her skin be less soft or her hair less pretty? Why does she dress like she’s my wet dream come to fucking life? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of torment?
“There are dangers out here that Samson can’t protect you from.” When we reach her pack, I drop to one knee and pull out her bug repellant. I spray it liberally all over her legs.
“Ouch. That burns.” She flinches when the acid hits the red scratches the branches and underbrush made on her skin.
“Sorry. Fuck.” I lean forward and blow on the tiny wounds.
She freezes, and then her hands drop to my shoulders. I realize then just where I am—on my knees between her legs. If I raise my head, my nose would be right at pussy level. And even over the distinct smell of mosquito repellent, I can smell her.
She smells like fucking heaven.
“Am I in danger now?” she whispers hoarsely.
I force myself to keep my eyes on her legs—although that’s not much better. Her calves, knees, and thighs are just as delicious-looking as any part of her.
“No,” I manage to choke out.
“Then let’s stay here. Just you and I.” Her hands have found their way into my hair, and the gentle scrape of her nails against my scalp is doing things to me. Like rubbing away any resistance I have toward her. Not that I had much to begin with.
“Tonight?” I close my eyes and imagine sliding my hands up her juicy thighs until they meet at the juncture of her legs. I fantasize about tugging down her shorts until all she’s wearing is a pair of tiny panties that are soaked with her desire.
I’d nudge the sopping fabric aside with my nose, and then lay the flat of my tongue against her wet, hot pussy. I’d eat her until her gentle touch turned animalistic. I’d suck and lick and bite her until her nails scored my flesh and she was scaring the birds away with her screams.