by Jake Irons
I blink in surprise. “You what?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “I thought you were hot. Super hot. And then as we talked, I thought you were smart, and funny, and I liked having you around.”
I feel myself start blushing, heat spreading from the base of my throat up to my cheeks, then down my chest. I bet I look like a tomato.
Eli laughs. “Are you blushing?”
“No. Of course not.” I blink, trying to look indignant, even though my face actually burns.
“You are. You’re a blusher.”
“Maybe I’m allergic to you.”
“Nahh.” He reaches out and swats my hair. “Sassy Tara blushes like a high school girl.”
“Did you just call me sassy?”
He grins. “What should I have called you?”
“Rough and tumble.”
He chuckles, a deep, rich sound I feel between my legs.
“Shut up. I am.”
He’s still smiling at me. Really smiling. Like he likes me. After a quick, deep breath to get rid of my stupid blushing, I say, “I liked being around, too. I wanted to make sure you knew it wasn’t all an act.”
He looks at me seriously. “I knew some parts weren’t.”
“Which parts?”
He winks. “The fucking parts.”
Chapter 8
Eli
“‘The fucking parts’? Are you for real?”
She’s giving me a look. It’s not unhappy, but she isn’t smiling either. “What?”
“I don’t know.” She smiles now. “You’re such a boy.”
“What were you expecting?”
She turns onto her side to face me, so we’re lying beside each other on this rock like two girls at a slumber party. “I don’t know.” She smirks. “I guess I should have listened to the rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“You know, office rumors. They’re still swirling…” She twirls her finger in midair.
I’m not sure if I want to know or not, but curiosity wins out. “What do these rumors say?”
“Oh, you know, the kinds of things people say when someone disappears. Like Bigfoot stuff.”
What the fuck does that mean? “Bigfoot stuff?”
“Think Big-dick.”
I shut my eyes. Maybe Tara’s blushing is contagious, because in this moment, I feel something closer to embarrassment than pride.
“That’s my legacy, huh?”
“Yeah.” She draws her knees up a little, so her body is curled into a “C”, facing me. “Media magnate and playboy extraordinaire.”
I snort. I never fucked anyone on staff, and I don’t know how my sexual proclivities became office gossip.
“Well, those days are long behind me,” I say.
“I don’t know…” Tara’s teasing voice draws my gaze to her face, where I see a flirty little smile. “I think you’ve still got game.”
My eyes drift over the swell of her breasts, then down the rest of her—stomach, pussy, legs—before returning to her face. Her eyelids heavy, her lips slightly parted—almost as if she’s waiting to be kissed. She smiles a little, and I swear I think she wants to fuck. I do too, but I don’t make my move until she leans closer to me, trailing her fingertip over my forearm.
“Would we be crazy?” she grins.
I smirk. “Maybe.”
That’s all the encouragement Tara needs. Her hands strike my pants like vipers. Soon my button is undone, my zipper is down, and Tara’s cool fingers are inside my boxer-briefs. I shut my eyes and relax for the first time in hours as she jacks me off with magic hands.
“Oh fuck…”
“You like that?” she asks, and I nod. “Absolutely.”
“What about this?” She strokes my shaft with one hand while the other moves to my balls. She rolls them in her fingers, applying just the right amount of pressure—
“Oh fuck!”
Tara grins. “You really like that don’t you?”
Too much. I’m going to come. But not yet.
I grit my teeth and lie here, trying not to enjoy the best hand job I’ve ever gotten. But Tara’s too good to ignore, so I grab her arms and flip her over. I’m on top now, and her pants and underwear are off in a flash.
I sink a finger in her dripping pussy, then two, and curl them toward her G-spot while my thumb teases her clit, and then, because I’m just that hungry, I find her nipple through her shirt and tease that, too.
She gasps, and I try to work her pussy to exhaustion. I give her everything I have, channeling all my rage and need into my fingertips, and she screams in response, a full-throated bellow that echoes in the hills around us. It’s so hot I don’t even give a fuck about the potential danger.
And Tara is Tara: not content to let me steer the ship, she reaches for my dick, closes her hand around my head and gives it a tug.
“Ow!” I laugh. “What are you doing?”
“I want it.”
“What do you want?”
“This dick.”
“You want it bad?”
“Yes!” Tara lifts her hips, and I reward her by rubbing my head between her swollen lips.
“Ahh, God! Yes!”
I’m trembling with the strain of not plunging inside her, but I like to see her needy and bothered. I dip in an inch, just to tease her, and Tara moans loudly. I pull out, and she slaps my shoulder.
“Fuck me asshole!”
I grin. “I’ll assume you were calling me an asshole, and not talking with a Scottish accent.”
“Fuck me!” she cries, and I give her what she wants. I punch into her so hard we both yell.
Fuck, she’s tight. And hot. And so, so wet. I fuck her rough, and she responds by wrapping her legs around my waist and urging me deeper. Her nails dig into my shoulders, and she pants “oh God yes, oh fuck, oh fuck, yes fuck me harder” as I pound her into Flat Rock.
I like the way she looks, her face taut and her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open for breathy gasps.
I feel the hardness of the stone under my knees, the cool air on my skin, and Tara hot beneath me, and I think I’m gonna come before she does. And then I feel her pussy squeeze my dick.
“Oh God!” She’s coming—and taking me with her.
I’m about to pull out when she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me down against her. For a second, we’re panting together, our breath making heat clouds in the cold air. The wind whistles through the trees around us. I fold the blanket around Tara and pull my clothes on as she watches with heavy eyelids.
She smiles.
“What?”
“I like watching you get dressed. It’s…cute.”
“It’s sexy.”
“Sexy and cute.” She holds an arm out. “Come keep me warm.”
I wrap her in my arms—and it feels good.
Chapter 9
Eli
I can see my house in almost perfect detail, but in shades of green. I got these binoculars from a company called Nightowl Optics when I first moved to Colorado, and three years later they work as well as the day I bought them.
Tara and I are just off the trail near where we fell hours ago when we were running from Michal’s boys. That puts us maybe five-hundred yards from my house. When we first got back here, I tried find some sign of Acer or the bad guys doubling back, but it was too dark.
It’s not too dark to see the house, though; thanks to the night vision, the only thing that’s limiting my view is the trees. I can see a good bit of the shed, and some of the drive, and almost all of the house. Like the double doors that are opened to the half-wrapped deck. I didn’t have them open when Tara and I split.
I move the binoculars off my eyes and glance at Tara. She’s kneeling beside me on the rock. Her soft lips are pressed into a thin line. He brow is furrowed. The moon is waning tonight, but her skin still seems to glow in its light.
I’m not happy she’s here right now. I didn’t want to bring her, but she refused to stay at Flat
Rock by herself, and I guess I can’t blame her. Maybe we shouldn’t have come back at all, but I wanted to. Just in case Michal’s boys decided not stick around. Or just in case Acer came back home.
I grab a blue whistle from my pocket and raise it to my lips. I blow, and I hear the rush of my breath but nothing else. It’s a dog whistle. I’ve been blowing it since we started moving back this way. Tara asked me if Herman could hear it and I told her no, but the truth is, I don’t know, and at this point, I’d welcome Herman’s help.
I blow the whistle one more time before placing it in my pocket. The only answer I get is a cool breeze; it ruffles my hair, sends a shiver down my spine.
I’m impressed with how chill Tara is. With the whole situation. Shit she didn’t even know was in the room starts hitting the fan yesterday, and she rolls with it pretty well.
I, on the other hand, am trying not to lose my shit. I don’t want to embarrass myself number one, and number two, losing my shit doesn’t make good tactical sense; but Michal and I are obviously headed toward an endgame. There’s no going back from here. I’m not just going to move to Montana and start again. I’ve killed people. His people. Tara is caught up in this now. It comes down to either Michal kills me and probably Tara, or Tara and I get into custody and put Michal behind bars.
Or I kill Michal, which I’ve got to say, I’m feeling more inclined to do by the hour. But I don’t think that’s gonna happen. More than likely, Michal is not waiting for me at my home.
But if anyone is, Tara and I are going to hike to Boulder tonight.
If the house is all clear, we’re going to hop in my truck and get the hell off this mountain.
It’s what to do after that that I’m not sure about. Do I take Tara to a police station? Do I take myself? Or do we hole up in a hotel somewhere and try to reach Harris?
I lift the binoculars up to my eyes again. I wonder how long we—oh shit, there’s a dude on my deck!
He’s older—maybe late forties—and on the lean side. He’s got caterpillar eyebrows and shortcut brown hair. He’s wearing a suit that’s either dark blue or black.
My gut feeling is he’s not one of Michal’s boys. They don’t wear suits, and also…I don’t know. Something about the way he moves reminds me of Jim, my mom’s husband.
I lower the binoculars and look at Tara. “There’s someone at the house.”
She’s on her feet in an instant. “There is? Who?”
“I don’t know.” I lift the binoculars back to my eyes. The guy is still pacing, still talking animatedly into his cell phone.
Then the picture disappears. Oh—Tara has her hand in front of the binoculars. “Can I see?”
I help her point them in the right direction.
“Something about him,” I say. “I dunno…”
“What?”
“He doesn’t seem like one of Michal’s guys.”
“So that isn’t what’s his name?” Tara asks, disappointment in her voice.
“Harris? No. Why? You think that guy looks like a cop?”
“Well, maybe. When you said it wasn’t one of Michal’s people, I hoped it was him.” She takes he binoculars from her eyes and hands them to me. “You’re the expert. What do you think?”
I raise the binoculars to my eyes again and peer through them. I check dude’s waistline, looking for a gun or a badge or something to indicate who he is or what he wants, but he’s pacing. The lack of flashing blue lights makes me think he’s not a cop, although I guess they could be on their way.
“I think I’m going to go down there. To get a closer look.” I hand Tara the binoculars.
“Are you crazy!?” she demands. “We said no! We said if anyone was there, we would hike down to Boulder.”
“It’s just one guy.”
“There could be seven hiding in the bathroom!”
“There aren’t seven—”
“Eli, no,” she snaps, and then gasps and covers her mouth. “Oh shit,” she whispers. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit do you think he heard me?”
I look, but Detective Dude is talking into his phone. “I don’t think so. We’re probably too far away, but let’s do remember to keep quiet when we’re hiding from potential murderers.”
“LeT’S DO RemEmBer To keep qUiEt blah blah blah. My name’s Eli and I condescend even in life and death matters.”
“I didn’t—okay, maybe that was condescending. Sorry.”
“Harrumph.”
“Did you just say ‘harrumph’? Like, the noise, but you said it?”
“I did.”
I laugh. “You know, that impression you did of me wasn’t very nice.”
“But it was accurate.” Tara gives me a little shove to illustrate her point, and maybe it’s the adrenaline, but I really want to fuck again. “You’re not going down there.”
Did she read my—oh she means to the house. “Tara—”
“Eli.”
I sigh, long and loud. “Do you have to be bratty ‘even in life and death matters’?”
“I have an adolescent mind, remember?”
“You remind me every time you open your mouth. But now it’s time to listen to your elder.”
“Elder is right.”
“I just want to go to get a closer look.”
She shakes her head. Her wavy hair is wild and tangled. “You’ve gone senile.”
“Tara, listen—”
“No Eli—”
“You can stay here.”
“Are you out of your mind? I’m not staying alone in the dark in the woods with Herman running around.”
“Herman’s not going to do anything—”
“Eli.” Tara says my name fast. Clipped. She sounds plaintive, and she looks the part. Lips turned down. Eyes anime-wide. “We said we would hike to Boulder.”
“Okay.” She’s right. Fuck. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. We said we would hike to Boulder.”
“Really?” she asks, warmth returning to her voice.
“Yeah. Yeah.” I sigh. “But I think we should stay here for maybe another hour before we go.”
“Why?”
“To see what happens. Maybe the guy leaves? Or maybe he’s a good guy and other more obvious good guys show up.”
“More ‘obvious good guys’?”
“Like, cops in uniform.”
Tara crosses her arms. “Or what if he’s a bad guy and there are other bad guys in the woods looking for us?”
I groan. “It’s going to be dangerous hiking down at night.”
“We can camp somewhere.”
“We don’t have a tent.”
Tara’s nostrils flare as wide as her angry eyes. “Eli I’m serious, we are not going to that house.”
“Okay.” Fuck. “Okay. Just-just give me a few more minutes.”
I look through the binoculars. “He’s gone.”
“The guy?”
“Yeah.” I scan the area around the house, but I can’t see him. “He’s probably inside.”
“I really think it would be better if we left now.
“I know, it’s just…I don’t know. I need to see what happens.” I’m sickly fascinated with people being in my home. All these people all of a sudden, inside a place that felt so much like me even if it wasn’t. Tara was first, and I fucked her. Peter and the other one were next, and I shot them. Now this guy.
“Do you see anything?”
“It’s only been a minute.” She’s obviously ready to get moving. “Just a little while longer.”
I look a little while longer. And longer after that. But dude doesn’t come back, and this is beginning to feel pointless. Maybe we are pushing it, being here. I’m just about to lower the binoculars when I see a shadow through the open door. Dude’s coming back out.
Fuck. He’s got Acer on the end of a rope.
****
I’ve lived on this mountain for three years, but I still have a hard time calling these trees “woods.” Where I grew up, the w
oods were miles and miles of pines and oaks and hickories. They were tall like towers above you, and they grew so thick you couldn’t see but for a few dozen feet in any direction.
The trees around here, not so much. They’re beautiful, but their beauty is in the context of the mountains. On their own, they aren’t much in the way of woods, which presents a problem tonight. Despite the dark settling in around us, we’re too exposed. These woods are too patchy. There are too many places where we can see the house. All dude up there has to do is have binoculars like mine, pointed in the right place at the right time.
We’re off-trail, just in case there are bad guys combing the woods, and it’s taking all my willpower not to run up on the house, gun blazing. I told Tara there was no way I was leaving Acer with whoever this guy is, and I was grateful that she agreed to at least get a closer look.
I’ve stopped half a dozen times to look through my binoculars, but I haven’t see anyone since dude left Acer tied to the deck and went back into the house.
We’re maybe a hundred feet from the trailhead, and that bunch of pines there seems as good a place as any for Tara to hunker down.
She gives me a frustrated expression, but crouches down and whispers, “Be careful.”
I give her a thumbs up, then hop onto the trail and sprint the last few hundred feet to my shed.
I try the knob—unlocked. I turn it and ease the door open. It’s dark inside, but I can tell from the feel of the space that it’s empty. I do a quick check, just to be sure, and when I am, I hurry back to Tara.
She almost gives me a heart attack when she jumps out at me. “What the fuck!” I hiss.
“Sorry. I thought you knew I was there.”
“I guess not.”
“You lost me?” she demands.
“That’s not what I meant. I meant—” She’s smiling. “Do you have to fuck with people during life and death…ah fuck I forgot how you said it back there.”
Tara chuckles. “So did I.”
She follows me back to the shed, where I stash her and start to leave. She grabs my hand. “Wait.”
I let her pull me back, and I turn to face her. “What?”