He was snoring before I could muster the courage to flirt back. I get the feeling that would be like poking a very dangerous bear, so I’m glad his slumber saved me.
I woke up before the birds because Turner is talking in his sleep.
He pushed me away, “No. Get out, stupid whores. Why do I pay for this shit?” He grumbled out loud, but he’s dreaming. I can’t imagine saying that even to a whore.
“Don’t. Get back.” He’s pushing invisible people away so I backed up.
“Stupid woman.” He seemed agitated again.
I waited it out from a distance. He doesn’t have his gun because I took it with me.
He rolled and seemed to be looking for something. He sat up realizing whatever he wanted wasn’t there. “PEACH!!” He yelled in that booming voice that made me jump.
I crawled out of the darkness towards him, “Right here Turner. Right here.”
He grabbed the front of the t-shirt I’d stolen from him two days ago and jerked me down to his face. “Where did you go?” He growled at me through clenched teeth. His eyes are threatening as the fear simmered just below the surface.
“Nowhere. You were having a nightmare and pushing at me. I took your gun and backed up so you wouldn’t hit me or shoot me.” I explained showing him I was putting the gun back where he keeps it at night.
He’s not quite sure yet, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because I went to college and took Psych 101 like everyone else, you don’t wake up a person from a violent nightmare, or sleepwalking, unless you want to get hurt.” I explained grouchier than I meant, but he scared me, and woke me up. I’m not a morning person.
He pulled me back down to his shoulder. “Go back to sleep, unless you want to get up and go hunting.”
“Tomorrow, you should get some rest. Have you slept at all the last few days?”
“Don’t tell me what I need.” He grumped back.
“Are you eating?” I asked because he hadn’t eaten much of the deer. He keeps disappearing for hours at a time with no explanation or warning. I feel like I’ve been living out here alone.
“Stop Georgia.” His stomach growled giving him away.
“You can’t spank a girl for calling your bluff. Sit up, I’ll fix you something to eat.”
He wouldn’t let me up. “Not now. Sit still.” He was snoring again in seconds.
3
I couldn’t go back to sleep so I just laid there soaking up his body heat as the fire needs to be stoked. It was starting to look precariously close to going out as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky.
Turner is still out cold. As long as he’s asleep, I can’t fix the fire, or pee. I really have to pee.
I took a deep breath and looked up into his beard, “Turner? Wake up honey. I need to get up.”
“No.” He grumbled.
I heard the commanding tone and changed my tactic. “Please sir, I need to use the bathroom. May I go?”
He let go, “Make it fast. Come back on your knees.” He rolled onto his side and I knew he was still sleeping. I wonder if he’ll remember saying anything at all.
I hurried at first, mostly out of need, but he was still out when I got back so I spent some time getting the fire built back up.
When that was done I started heating the stew I had made of the last of the deer meat. His cooler comes in handy, but not for this, so it’s been cooking for days. I’m definitely going hunting tomorrow morning.
I found some edible vegetation, but not enough to make a full meal. Then I caught movement from the corner of my eye. A big ole hare. Sweet.
I leaned over and very gently picked up my knife off the table. I call it mine now because Turner hasn’t tried to take it back. I slowly aimed, steadied my feet, and flipped the knife.
It flew through the air and literally sliced the poor things head clean off. Out of old tournament excitement I jumped up and down clapping and hooted too loud, “Yes!! Got you bitch!”
Turner sat up catching my eye, “What the fuck are you doing?”
I walked over to retrieve my prize. I held it up, “Breakfast. If you go get some water I’ll make coffee.”
He gave me a skeptical look, “Who are you?” He asked without expecting a reply before getting up.
“You should research your hostages.” I teased and winked at him.
He walked over to me, “Just because I admire your skills as a hunter, doesn’t mean I don’t want to turn you over my knee.”
I put my hands on my hips and bounced up on my toes to get closer, “I’m not afraid of you Colson. But if you really need to exert your already powerful presence by beating up on me, go ahead.”
“I don’t beat women.”
“Tomato, tomAto. Are you going to get some water so I can feed you?”
He took the rabbit from my hand and set it on the log I use for cutting and came back to cup my face in his large hands. His icy cold blue eyes held mine, “You are a beautiful and very skilled woman, and I just want to fuck you that much harder because of it. Not because I’m jealous, I want you to know me, feel me.” He put his thumbs under my chin, “You are pure pain and pleasure to me, a most intoxicating blend.” He touched his lips to mine.
I wanted to fight him off, kick him even, but I couldn’t help myself. I jumped up and threw my arms around his neck to welcome his kiss. He took the not-so-subtle hint and pushed his tongue in to meet mine. His hands moved down my shoulders and over my back until he gripped my butt and pulled me up to wrap my legs around his waist.
Next thing I know he’s got me on my back and pressing his erection into my hip, I hear myself groan as the anticipation builds. I want him, but I shouldn’t, I can’t. He’s too much, too big, too dangerous.
He shifted his weight and made fast work of getting his hand down the front of my jeans. He shoves the crotch down and cups my sex.
“Oh God.” I said wishing suddenly I hadn’t.
He stopped abruptly and looked down at me, “What was that?”
“Oh Turner?” I tried to save the moment.
“Nice try.” He sat up. “Now you have to pay. You leave me no choice.” He took my hand and helped me back over to the blanket. “Take the pants off.” He knelt in front of me, waiting.
My goodies are awake and tapping their fingers together. I make a little better show of undressing this time.
He picked up my foot to slide the denim off and tossed my the jeans aside. “Sit.” He ordered.
I sat grateful his larger than large t-shirt covered me as I did.
He’s sitting Indian-style in front of me. He reaches out and moves my hair off my shoulder. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No.”
“Why?” He leaned back on his hands like we’re at a slumber party sitting on the floor full of pillows and blankets.
“Did your mother raise you?”
His eyebrows drew together, “Not entirely, what does that have to do with it?”
“Do you respect her?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why do you get off on causing women pain? What would your mother say?”
“This has nothing to do with her.”
“Sure it does. Would you beat the mother of your children?”
I saw the door slam shut in his eyes. “You’re not my mother, and I am most certainly not a father.” He got up and walked off into the vastness that’s the property around us. It goes on for miles.
I pulled my jeans back on and felt my goodies tick tick ticking me. They’re none too happy with me. I took my frustration out on the rabbit, put it up to cook, and went down to the river to bathe. The water is as cold as it was yesterday, but it matches my mood today, so it feels good.
I wash and let the water hide my tears. Suddenly I wanted to go home, to leave this confusing mess and go back to the conflicts I can handle. I’d pay to have a client lie to me rather than look at Turner one more time.
Seeing him shut down like that s
tabbed me in the heart. Why do I even care?? Because the pain I see in those brilliant blue eyes tugs at my heart strings. I like defending people because I find it hard not to want to help the innocent. It’s been a problem my entire life. I’ll save you the boring baby bird stories.
I decided to take advantage of the midday sun and let it warm my naked body in the grass not far from the shore. I’d lay on the shore, but it’s rocky and sandy.
There are a few patches of grass in these alpine desert mountains. I love the clean crisp air, the clean flow of rocks to tall pines and back again is beautiful. Sometimes the rivers will pool water and I can really sink in over my head. Like I am with Turner. In over my head.
I don’t understand him. Maybe I should try to just walk down the mountain and leave. I could probably do it, even if I only got away with one of his guns it would be dangerous. More so because I could trip and hurt myself. Eventually you run out of fluids and bullets.
A shadow fell over me and I put my hand up to shield my eyes in case it’s not a cloud. Turner is glaring down at me. I see his jaw tighten.
I sat up, “Now what??”
He scooped me up and walked me directly back to the tent where he ducked inside and deposited me on the blankets. “Next time you want some sun you make sure I’m with you.”
“I thought there was nobody else up here.” I argued sitting up and covering myself with a blanket.
He ducked back outside then tossed his Glock back inside, “I’m going into town. Get dressed. Don’t take those clothes off again until I tell you to.” He fired up his big Road King and took the trail away from camp that you can’t see unless you follow the tire tracks.
I dressed and went back outside. The rabbit was completely de-boned. He’d eaten every last piece of meat on it. I almost pissed myself I laughed so hard.
When I recovered myself I cleaned up and went to do some wash and other tasks I’ve developed a routine for over the last week.
My mind wandered to his behavior in said time. Odd is an understatement. I can’t tell what he’s trying to accomplish by bringing me up here.
Then my brain changes gears. His cell phone. He turned it off and tossed it in a black bag when we first got here because it doesn’t get service where we are.
I fished through the bags, found the phone, and packed a bag for a hike. I headed up the highest mountain I could find.
Three hours and two mountains later I stopped dead as I took in the fabulous panoramic view. “Wow.” I think I can see Denver from here.
I stood there soaking up the scene when I saw Turner’s bike. It’s hard to miss because he’s so big, and he’s the only thing moving this way. “Shit.” I’ll never get back before he does. This could suck.
I lifted up his phone to look for a signal. One bar. I dialed my father’s cell phone.
The static and cutting in and out was so bad all I was able to communicate was that I was fine, and would see him in a few months. Hopefully. Of course I didn’t add that.
It’s later than I thought, three-forty. By the time I get back it’ll be dark. With the full moon I’ll be able to see well enough as I get closer to camp to find it. Plus I’ll be able to smell and see the campfire.
I walked just fast enough to meet my deadline, but not so fast as to beat it. No sense in rushing my punishment. Part of me wants to go back up that last mountain and go down the other side. The smart part knows that’s stupid.
I didn’t make it all the way back to camp. In fact, I didn’t make it halfway before I heard firm crunching footsteps and knew there was one very angry giant coming looking for me. It’s not like I covered my tracks, so I’m sure it wasn’t hard to figure out which direction I’d gone.
When he saw me he stopped dead. We just looked at each other. Fight or flight? I asked myself. Does it matter? I bit my lip and started towards him.
He waited for me instead of meeting me any further.
I stopped in front of him and looked up into some very angry blue eyes, “I wanted my dad to know I was okay. I took your phone and called him from up there.” I pointed. “It was bad connection, but at least he knows I’m alive and won’t worry.
“What did you tell him?” He asked in that deep voice.
“Nothing, I didn’t get a chance. The connection was so bad I just focused on telling him I was okay and would be back in a few months.” I started to walk past him but he bent and threw me over his shoulder.
“I thought I told you to stay put.” He said walking quickly back to camp. He’ll turn my hour hike into a forty minute walk with those powerful legs.
He smacked me hard on each butt cheek. “There’s more of that, so don’t start your blubbering already.” He warned.
I gently and very carefully found the waistband of his boxers, quickly got a grip, and tugged just enough to give him a good wedgie, but not enough to cause pain.
He dropped me on my feet so fast I stumbled. “I’ve had about enough of your shit.” He warned me.
“Then take me home!!” I yelled at him.
“You’re lucky I don’t have time to fuck that mouth of yours.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me tight against him as his now livid eyes bore into mine. “Be very careful testing me woman.”
“Yeah, for five minutes until you turn, like your name, in some sex staved animal.” I complained tripping over a stick that jumped out in front of me.
“You better still have enough energy to please me tonight.” He grumbled and decided after I fell behind twice that he had to scoop me up again.
At least this time I didn’t have to hang upside down over his ass. I put my head on his shoulder resigning myself to my upcoming pain and possible pleasure to rival such pain.
He hopped over a stream and I had a sudden vision of being rescued by The Hulk. It made me smile.
He looked at me for a second, “What are you smiling about?”
“I just had a mental image of you as the Hulk carrying me away to some cave in the mountains where we sit and watch it rain. I know it’s stupid, that’s why I laughed.”
“The Hulk is green.” He said completely off the track I was on.
“Well…you’re mean, so close enough.” I put my head back on his shoulder.
“Green and mean aren’t even close to the same thing Pea…Georgia.” He caught himself.
“My dad does that. He calls me Peaches unless he’s mad at me, then all of a sudden he busts out my given name.” I twisted his beard in my fingers on my right hand because my left is wrapped around his shoulder.
He exhaled deeply. “Don’t ever leave camp again when I’m not with you.”
I sat up a little in his arms, “What do you care? You could have just packed up and ridden away never to bother with me again. Obviously I’m a huge pain in your ass, although for some reason mine is the sore one.”
“Georgia,” He interrupted me, “do not say another word until we get back. I can’t move this fast carrying you and talking at the same time.”
“So, put me down.” I argued.
He bounced me in his arms and shot me a warning look that went right to my goodies.
“Okay, sorry.” The rest of the descent went without a word between us.
Once back at camp he set me down on the ground and sat down himself. “Fix dinner, it’s in the cooler.” He sounded winded and tired.
I took to task not wanting to fight, not with him like this. I get the feeling his temper is more fragile when he’s lacking sleep and food.
I took the foil packets and set them on the grate after peeking inside to see what I was cooking. Looks like stuffed pork chops. Cool.
We ate in silence over fresh beers. Without me on the back of his bike. and all his gear, he was able to bring up a ton of supplies. I got a box of wine, he got three bottles of whiskey. Poor guy, I’m driving him to drink. I should probably watch it. If he gets drunk things could get ugly.
I’m a sleepy drunk, but if he turns out to be an angry drunk I’m fuc
ked, most likely literally.
As I cleaned up I wondered if I really would sleep with him if he got me riled again. He said I would have to beg for it. I might if he winds me up again like he did before.
Later by the river while washing dishes I cussed dropping a cup. “Shit.”
He reached out from somewhere behind me and plucked it out of the water. “Problem?”
I wiped and stacked the dishes, “No.” I lied.
“Worried about your job?” He asked out of the blue which made me stop and look at him.
“What?”
“Your job, as a lawyer. How long before they fire you?”
“They can’t fire me Turner, I own a third of the firm. If anything they’re trying to find me. Now, if you’re done, I’m tired and want to go to sleep.” I started for the area where I keep my cooking supplies.
He followed, “How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
There was a silence before he asked, “I thought your last boyfriend was four years ago in college.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled before letting it out slowly. “Did I say four years?”
“Yes, you did.”
I looked up at him. “I didn’t graduate until I was twenty six because I took two years to travel to Europe to do research with my dad. He had a fucked up case and I needed the practice. Since he was paying for my schooling, it didn’t matter when I graduated. The fact that he listed me as a consult on such a high profile case got me readmitted without question. I graduated at twenty-six, I’m thirty-two, and obviously suck at math.” Shit, has it really been almost seven years?
“That’s big margin of error counselor.”
I rolled my eyes, “Don’t get cute. I don’t think about it, and you caught me off guard. I probably said that because the last time somebody asked me how long it had been, it was four years.” I explained to him, and myself. It’s really the only reason I can think of, but then again, thinking right now is becoming difficult between yawns.
Daunting Turns: Book 2 of Colson Brothers Series Page 5