by Madison Faye
Poofy, furry — like something off a goddamn mall mannequin.
She pulled a coat on, and I growled again. What the fuck did she think she was doing, going out for a fucking stroll in the snow? The coat screamed “city.” It was something you put on between the restaurant and the cab, not something you went out walking in these woods wearing. The coat would be soaked and freezing in ten minutes in these conditions. In an hour, it’d be deadly.
I frowned at the car. I mean, at least a Land Rover had all-wheel drive, but the chrome and the fancy black paint job screamed city. It screamed “luxury,” and that had no place on a snowy mountain like Blackthorn.
She glanced at her reflection in the reviewer mirror, licking her lips. I knew it should’ve bothered me — like she was bringing this bullshit city vanity out here to the woods where it didn’t belong. But it didn’t. In fact, watching her soft pink tongue dart out to lick those lips made my whole body come alive. It made my fucking cock throb and my balls tingle in ways they hadn’t in longer than I could remember.
She shouldered a pack, opened the door, and stepped out into the snow.
What the fuck was she doing?
No, stay in the fucking car.
For a second, I almost said it out loud. For a second, I thought about walking over, throwing her over my shoulder, plunking her back in that car and telling her to get the fuck off my mountain.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
With the exception of a few run-ins with Austin, Dallas, Vlad, and occasionally Axe up here on the Mountain, I’d sworn off people when I’d come up here a year before.
After Kandahar, I was done with people.
It was Stan who’d told me about his cabin up here on Blackthorn, back when I’d been on his guard duty over in Afghanistan. The guy was one of those guys I should have immediately disliked — rich, throwing his money around, and a total city-slicker. But then, I’d realized who he really was and what he was really all about, and that’d all changed. Yeah, he threw his money around, but he threw it at real problems, not a new car just for having another one, or big fancy houses he didn’t live in. The man wanted to make real change in the world, which is why he was over there risking his ass to build schools and hospitals. We’d bonded over bikes first, and after that he’d been like father figure to me until the day he’d died a few years ago to cancer.
Yeah, that’d sucked.
But Stan had told me all about Blackthorn Mountain and the cabin he kept here that his rich-ass, snobby family didn’t know about. So after I’d gotten out, when I’d been done with it all, it was the only place I knew to go.
I’d been there ever since — alone, and at peace. Until that day.
Until this hot little blonde, bright-eyed, fancy-assed, and sexy as sin stranger had stepped out of her city car in her city clothes right the fuck in the middle of my woods, not one goddamn mile from my cabin. I didn’t know whether to be rip-shit mad or turned the fuck on. Hell, the fact that I was snarling quietly through a clenched jaw while also sporting a hard-on ready to tear through my damn jeans said it all.
Blondie slung the bag over her shoulder, looked around, and took a deep breath. Fuck, even from here and even in that stupid city coat, I could see those curves. I could see the way her breasts heaved against that coat, making my mouth water and my balls pulse.
She might’ve been an interloper. She might’ve been trouble. Hell, she might’ve been trespassing, cause she sure as hell was. But none of that mattered, because all of a sudden, there was one thing I knew about her above all that:
She was mine.
She didn’t know it yet, but I did. And now that she was there, in my woods on my mountain? I was going to show her exactly how mine she was.
I watched as she started walking, my blood roaring in my ears and my eyes narrowing on those cute, pouty lips of hers. Everything inside of me stirred, and growled, and hungered for her.
But when she stopped, looked round, and then suddenly changed course, I went numb
…She was going right for trail-head — the one you’d never even see unless you knew where to look. The trail that went right to the cabin. We weren’t that close, but fuck if it didn’t look like all of a sudden she knew exactly where she was going.
Yeah, no more waiting. No more watching and wondering what this tempting little stranger was doing up here. I growled as I stood from where I’d been squatting in the snow, my muscles tensed and hardened, my senses tuned, and my cock still fucking hard as stone.
I marched right for her, every intention of snatching that curvy little body up into my arms, throwing her over my shoulder caveman-style, marching back to my cabin to figure out who the fuck she was. But that’s when I heard the cracking sound.
That’s when I felt the thundering of the ground moving under me.
Aw fuck.
That’s when the avalanche hit, and the last thing I remember is wanting to know what those pink, full lips tasted like, before it all went white.
4
Katrina
Almost there.
Wind whipped at my face, and I could feel every single part of my body shivering in the harsh, wet, bitter cold. Snow stung my eyes, and my shitty boots were soaked, all the way up to mid-thigh.
Fuck I wished I’d brought real winter clothes.
Thankfully, I’d dodged the mini avalanche when I’d started hiking. The thing had come out of nowhere, roaring like thunder — almost like a fierce, manly roar, really — as it’d come barreling down the side of the mountain. It’d barely missed me, but I was pretty sure the Land Rover was a lost cause until spring at that point. But fuck Paul.
The one problem was, most of the road — and my way back down from here — was also probably a lost cause after the avalanche too, but that I’d have to worry about later. The priority after that had been to get to the cabin and get warm before I froze to death.
I winced, the icy wet chill creeping through my body as I stomped around one last bend in the trail. And suddenly, I saw it.
The cabin.
I moaned in weak joy, shivering and shaking, my teeth chattering as I made a break for the front porch. The snow was coming hard by then, hitting me right in the face. But I kept at it, fighting back tears and pain and the sharp bite of the snow as I went barrelling up the three steps, and crashing right through the front door. I slammed it shut behind me with a cry of victory, panting as I sank down to the floor in a heap.
Thank God.
I shivered as I kicked my soaked boots and socks off, tearing off my freezing wet jeans, my coat, and the rest of my chilled, wet clothes down to my underwear. It was only then that I took a deep breath and found myself slowly relaxing.
The cabin was dark, but warm, and even if I could have bet money that I’d locked up the last time Stella and I had been up here two year ago or so, I didn’t worry that the door hadn’t been locked. Screw it, no one came up here anyways, and it’s not like there was anything to steal in the place.
I panted in the warm darkness, feeling the heat slowly soak into my goose-bumped skin, until suddenly…
…Until suddenly I froze.
Heat.
Warmth.
The cabin wasn’t just “not cold”, it was warm. Very very warm.
In spite of it, a chill crept up my spine until I finally forced myself to open my eyes and look around.
Oh, fuck.
The orange glow coming out of the cracks of the wood stove in the corner of the kitchen area was the first thing I noticed. Orange, flickering, fire.
…Yeah, I was pretty damn sure Stella and I hadn’t managed to get a two-year fire burning the last time we’d left.
I felt my pulse race, my skin tingling with fear as I slowly stood. Someone had been here. Recently. Like, really recently. I went still, listening to the sound of the wind howling outside, and the sound of the logs crackling and snapping in the wood stove. I swallowed, and the sound felt loud in my ears.
And then,
there was another sound.
Outside.
It’s the wind, you scaredy-cat. I told myself, deciding to ignore the fact that someone had clearly been using the cabin. I tried to force myself not to think about what sort of weirdo would be up here in the middle of this snow storm in a cabin that wasn’t theirs, but the only things I could think of were serial killers and worse.
The sound came again, and this time, it was the unmistakable sound of footsteps, heavy and crunching on the snowy front porch. I shivered, backing away from the door towards the center of the room, my arms hugging myself as my breath came ragged.
Fuck. Home defense necessities hadn’t exactly been on my list of supplies to grab before I’d come up here. The panic rising in my chest, my eyes flailed around the room looking for something — anything — to defend myself with. My eyes darted across the darkened room, my breath coming faster and faster until my gaze landed on the bottle of whiskey sitting on the small table by the sofa. I lunged, snatching it up and Braundishing it like a club as I whirled back to the door.
Crunch.
The footsteps stomped across the porch. I hefted the whiskey bottle menacingly as I turned towards the door and the sound of the heavy footsteps beyond it. I already felt braver, stronger, and more ready to defend my place and my female parts.
There was a moment of stillness; a calm before the storm, silent but for the wind. And then suddenly with a smashing bang, the door flung open, sending whipping bursts of snow and ice hurling across the room and into my face. I shrieked and shut my eyes to the blinding white, briefly glimpsing a shape — a man — hulking in the doorway. I screamed, my pulse spiking through me, as I lunged forward with my best battle cry, swinging the whiskey bottle like a crazy woman. I leapt at the man, the bottle swinging right for his head when suddenly, my whole world went upside down.
I screamed as he grabbed me — strong, powerful hands effortlessly hoisting me off the ground with a roar. I screamed again as he tore the bottle from my hand and swung me over his muscled, broad shoulder. His foot slammed back, kicking the door shut and trapping me in here with him before he suddenly marched across the room and tossed me down onto the couch in front of the fireplace.
I gasped, lashing out with my foot and catching him right between the legs. The man roared, swearing fiercely and grabbing his crotch before he lunged for me. I screamed once more as his powerful hands grabbed my ankles, holding them fast in his iron grip as he stood towering above me. Piercing, fierce, haunting blue eyes burned right into me.
“Do not fucking do that again.”
His rough, velvety voice was honeyed baritone — like whiskey and wood — and I could feel his words melting into me. Those fierce eyes pierced right into me, sending a shiver through my body as he stood over me, his broad, muscled shoulders heaving.
My eyes landed on the whiskey bottle, which he’d set back on the table. I made a lunge for it, but the man swore as he shoved me back onto the couch and yanked the bottle away.
“Okay, and this is for drinking, not smacking me in the fucking head with!”
He glared at me, his teeth flashing under the scruff of his chiseled jaw. He turned and strode across the room, slamming the bottle onto the mantle above the fireplace before turning.
And then suddenly, he began to tear his hat and jacket off.
“What are you—”
I went white when he reached down and yanked his t-shirt off, baring a grooved, hardened, tattooed, and muscled chest as he peeled it over his head and threw it away. His muscles twitched and bulged in the low light, every hard line and gorgeous groove of his body rippling as he moved back towards me. He kicked his boots off, and when his hands moved to his belt, my whole body froze.
“Please, wait, what are you—”
His pants dropped, and when he kicked them away and moved towards me, I could feel the shiver trembling through me. The rough, scary, muscled stranger stalked towards me in just his tight black boxer briefs. Every muscle in his perfect body curled and rippled like he was a lion stalking his prey. I felt frozen, my heart beating a million miles an hour in my chest and my eyes wide as he moved closer and closer, until he was towering almost naked above my almost naked body.
I screamed as I lunged off the couch. But his hand caught me fast, and suddenly, I was over his shoulder again. I screamed again, my bare skin across his broad, hot, rippling shoulder muscles as he strode across the room.
“Let go of me!” I screeched, beating on his broad, hardened back with my fists, which didn’t even seem to phase him. I could smell the scent of him — all woodsy and manly, and I hated that I could feel my body react to it. I hated that those damn pheromones of his sunk their hooks right into me, sending shivers of feelings through my body that were entirely inappropriate for what was happening to me.
My knee jerked up, catching him in the chest, but he only grunted before suddenly, he hauled me off his shoulder and tossed me through the air. I shrieked until I came down in a heap across something soft.
A bed.
Oh God…
5
Braun
“Who are you!” she screamed at me, kicking at me and trying to back away from me until her back came up against the metal bars of the bed frame. She yanked the covers up, covering that sweet, tasty little body of hers, and making the beast inside of me roar at the injustice of it.
“Who am I?” I growled, stalking over her and reaching for the covers. She tried to hold tight, but I was much stronger than her, and I easily jerked them out of her grasp. She gasped, her hands trying to cover up those sweet, curvy tits and that thin piece of lace barely covering what I was willing to bet was a pussy that tasted like a fuckin’ candy cane.
“Who am I?” I growled, scowling at my gorgeous little invader. My cock was bulging obscenely at the front of my briefs, and I think the only reason she didn’t see it was that she was too busy staring heated daggers at my eyes.
I liked that look. I liked that fierceness, and that wild will to throw it right back at me, even when I had her nearly naked and in my damn bed.
“Who the fuck are you, and what the hell are you doing on my mountain?”
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
I shook my head, yanking the covers back and then slinking onto the bed next to her before pulling them over us both.
She started to scream.
“Stop it,” I growled fiercely, grabbing her wrists as her fists started to rain down on my face and chest. I shoved her arms back easily, pinning them both above her head with one hand as I moved over her. She screamed again and again, piercing my eardrums as I slowly covered her soft, supple body with my hardened, chiseled, bigger one.
“Enough!” I finally barked, loudly. She went quiet.
“There’s no one for miles in any direction to hear you, and what I’m trying to do is keep you warm!”
“I’m fine!” she snapped. Her knee came up hard, dangerously close to my balls, and I snarled as I shoved her knees apart and pinned them down with my own.
She panted, her chest heaving with that fire and that fight as she strained against me. I groaned inside, feeling the way her soft little body writhed against me — the way I could feel her rock-hard nipples grazing over my chest through her thin lacy bra, and the way I could feel the soft, tempting, hot little patch between her legs pushing against my throbbing hard cock.
“You’re freezing is what you are,” I growled, settling my body over hers.
“I am not!”
“You are, and so am I,” I snapped. The thing was, I was actually right. She’d been out there too long in the wrong kind of clothes. She thought she was warm because it was less deathly cold in the cabin than it was out there. But stripping down out of her wet clothes was only the first step. She needed to get warmed up, or she was going to get the fever chills real soon.
And me? Well, even with being fairly used to the conditions up here, I knew I’d been close to being fucked out there. The avalanc
he had buried me in at least four feet of snow, and the only reason I’d been able to dig my way out was that it’d knocked me right against the side of her SUV. I dug under it and out the other side, before I’d run all the way back here, expecting to find her dead and frozen at every turn in the trail.
The fact that she’d made it here said a lot. And it also made me curious.
“Get off of me!” she hissed.
“No.”
She made a growling sound, trying vainly to pull her arms from my grasp. She bucked her hips against me, like she was trying to get me off of her. But all it did was get me fucking harder. All it did was get my blood roaring in my ears as I felt that supple little body grind against mine. I was so fucking hard, I knew she could feel every inch of it pressing hot between her legs. And she might’ve been fighting me, but there was no denying the heat I could feel under those tiny little panties.
Yeah, she could feel me alright. Good. I wanted her to.
“I’m not cold,” she spat.
“Trust me you are.”
Well, by then, she wasn’t. Not anymore. By then, under the covers and straining and writhing against my body, she was hot as a little firecracker. But by that point, warming her up wasn’t my only thought. Actually, it was barely my secondary one.
The first thought was a caveman instinct. The first thought in my head was a need to cover her body in mine — to press her into the sheets and feel that tight little body of hers writhe under me. I needed to feel those legs spread wide for me, and I fucking needed to taste those lips of hers.
I needed to have her.
It wasn’t that I’d been up here alone for too long, though I knew I had been. It wasn’t like this was just me missing a woman’s touch and going all fucking nuts with one finally under me with her hot little pussy pressed right against my swollen cock, though I knew that was part of it.
No, what this was was her.
It made no sense. A prissy, gussied-up city girl like her should’ve been the last thing I was attracted to, even with that gorgeous face and that tight little body that was begging to be fucked. It was that whole city mindset that shoulda turned me off. Except it didn’t, and I sure as shit wasn’t. In fact, I’d never been harder. I’d never been more hooked on anything in my life. I’d thought she was beautiful when I saw her from the trees sitting in her car. But here, face-to-face, skin-to-skin, and breathing the same air like this?