Striking Edge

by Kelsey Browning

  But Joss just said, “Good thing I had something else in mind.”

  She wedged herself against his right side, her breasts hugging his ribcage and her right leg over his. He could feel the heat of her center against his outer thigh. Then she fisted his dick. Hard. Harder than she’d gripped his wrist.

  It made Shep’s knees feel as if they had been replaced by Silly Putty, and he grunted out his pleasure.

  “Okay?”

  “Better than.”

  “Perfect.” She didn’t stroke him, didn’t gently test the glide of skin over cartilage. She flat-out jerked on his dick.

  Forget Silly Putty. Shep no longer had knees. He dug his heels into the ground to keep his balance.

  Joss’s fist was the best thing he’d ever felt. Ever. Working him over, hard and fast.

  His own grip was probably a little tighter. After all, his hand was bigger. But she was fisting him with an intensity and speed and pressure that made his brain go blank. He watched her stroke him, her dainty-looking fingers pulling at his dick in a definitive rhythm. One-two-three-four. Five-six-seven-eight.

  “You…” he panted. “You’re jerking me off in an eight count.”

  Joss smiled up at him, and for a second, Shep regretted what he’d told her about blowjobs. If her hand felt like this, maybe she could—

  “So I am. Is that a problem?”

  “No.” In fact, the pattern soothed him even as her touch enflamed him.

  It didn’t take many more measures for Shep to feel the pressure build in his balls. He had to warn her. In his experience, women liked to back off before the mess. “I’m about to come.”

  “Great,” she said cheerfully. And without breaking her grip, she dropped to her knees and applied her teeth to the crown of his dick. The feel of those sharp little canines against his swollen skin made napalm detonate behind Shep’s eyes.

  He couldn’t have stopped his orgasm if someone had aimed a gun between his eyes. It was a beast, rolling and roaring and destroying everything in its path. He came for what felt like a decade, just pulsing into Joss’s mouth. And when he was finally spent, she released him quickly. Touching him one second and gone the next.

  No cuddling or patting or gentle kisses. Thank Jesus.

  Joss wiped at the corners of her mouth with her fingertips as if she’d just dined at some fancy Los Angeles restaurant.

  “Wh… why did you do that?”

  Worry clouded her smoky eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe that would be okay at the end.”

  “It…” Where was his brain? Probably somewhere in Joss’s palm. Possibly in her mouth. “I… It was. I meant why you swallowed.”

  That chased the worry away. “Well,” she drawled. “You know what they say. Leave no trace.”

  Shep grabbed her hand and drew her up until their faces were close. “Tell me when you’ve made up your mind about having sex with me. Because, Joss Wynter, I would very much like to have sex with you.”

  * * *

  Shep’s eyes were still glassy and unfocused as they retrieved Puck and hiked down the rest of the trail toward the others. He’d definitely enjoyed himself, but the firm line of his mouth was a hint that he wasn’t completely happy about it. Finally, he said, “We’ve been gone too long.”

  “I’m betting Lauren and Bradley don’t mind.”

  “They will when they realize how much farther we have to hike today.”

  When they rounded the last bend in the trail, they found the foursome playing cards on a fallen log. Strip poker by the looks of it. Lauren was down to underwear that showed off her legs and a lacy bra that showed off her Amazonian boobs. The younger camera guy couldn’t seem to take his attention off of them. Two of his cards dropped from his hand, and he didn’t even realize it.

  “Good to see you kept yourselves occupied,” Joss said with an infusion of forced sarcasm to mask the fact that she and Shep had occupied themselves as well. Still wet and achy, Joss planned to occupy him again at some point.

  “Did you find Buffalo?” Lauren asked.

  “Yeah, Lauren. They tucked him in a backpack.” Bradley pantomimed handing her something. “Here’s your sign.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t understand you.”

  “It’s a style of joke told by Bill Engvall,” Shep told her.

  “Whatever.” Lauren toyed with the strap of her bra, probably with the hope of snagging Shep’s attention. “What’s the news on our illustrious host?”

  “No sign of him,” Joss said as she slid a glance toward Shep to find him staring at Lauren’s face, his set in a grim expression. Inside, Joss smiled. The other woman might as well be wearing a nun’s habit for all Shep cared.

  “Everybody grab your gear,” he said. “We have five more miles to hike today.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Lauren said. “That’s impossible.”

  “She might be right,” Greg said. “Because we need some kind of physical opportunity today as well. Those normally take an hour minimum to film.”

  “Moody isn’t here,” Shep said. “So no opportunities.”

  “That’s not acceptable,” Lauren said. “If we don’t complete the daily opportunities, we’ll have to extend the trip.” She turned on a high-voltage smile. All in all, she was a decent actor. “Not that I would mind more time in this paradise, but…”

  But nothing. Lauren wanted out of these trees in the worst way, but she had a point. “If we film the opportunity, then Moody can review it later,” Joss said. “We have to do it, Shep.”

  “But Moody thinks those up.” he protested.

  “Why don’t you do it this time?” she said softly, hoping he would understand that she needed this, too. If they didn’t finish the game, the mini-series would never be aired. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “What kind of opportunity?” he asked her.

  “No,” Lauren cut in before Joss could answer. “She can’t tell you that. You have to decide on your own so everyone is on a level playing field.”

  “Fine,” Shep grunted. “Get your packs and let’s go.”

  “So what’s the opportunity?” Bradley asked him.

  “I’ll let you know when I’ve figured it out.”

  11

  When the group walked by the tree where Joss had given Shep the hand job of his lifetime, he couldn’t help but stare at it. It should be awarded a plaque, a medal of honor, a gold star.

  “Why are you grinning at a tree?” The Bitcher asked him.

  “I like that tree.”

  “Why that one?”

  Joss coughed from somewhere behind him, but Shep just said, “Because it’s a good tree.”

  “Better than the trillion others on this mountain?”

  “Yes.”

  The Bitcher wagged her head back and forth. “I keep trying to understand you, but I think you might be hopeless.”

  “I don’t care if you understand me,” he said. “After we finish this trip, I won’t ever see you again.” It suddenly struck him that the same could be said for Joss. Once they were off the mountain. She would go home, 2,278 miles away from Steele Ridge.

  “God, I hope Moody shows up soon,” Lauren said.

  So did he. He hadn’t been alone with these people for more than seven hours, and they were already dragging at him, leaching energy out of him like vampires. Well, mainly The Bitcher. The Vampire? He tried it out in his mind. Nah—The Bitcher still suited her best.

  And this crew was slow. Even Puck kept looking up at Shep, eyebrows working, as if asking could they move this wagon train along any faster. At this rate, they wouldn’t make it to his designated camp spot before the sun sank or someone decided they wouldn’t take another step.

  “Hey, man,” Greg hollered from back down the trail. “I thought we were going to stage an opportunity for these guys.”

  “Once we make camp,” Shep called back to him. “Not much farther. Just a mile.”

  “Yay,” The Bitcher sai
d. “That means we’ve already walked four.”

  “No,” Shep informed her. “Y’all are too slow, so we’re only doing three.”

  “And does Buffalo have any idea that we won’t be in the original location?” she asked.

  “How could he?” Shep shook his head. Didn’t she think? “No one has talked with him since I told you my plan one point three seconds ago.”

  She tossed her hands up in the air and huffed.

  Joss came striding around the other woman and said, “Lauren, why don’t you drop back for a few minutes and visit with Zach? I’m betting that if you flash him your tits again, he’ll share his food with you later.”

  The Bitcher did an about-face and marched toward the younger camera operator.

  “Is that true?” Shep asked Joss as they forged a few steps ahead of the group.

  Joss lifted a shoulder. “Maybe. Probably. The way he was ogling her during their strip poker game, I don’t think it would take much to push him in that direction.”

  “She likes men.”

  Joss chuckled. “No, Lauren likes Lauren. She uses men to get the things she wants.”

  “So she’s like a prostitute.”

  Joss’s chuckle turned into a strangled cough, and Shep slapped her on the back. Finally, she wheezed. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

  “Do you like men?”

  “Are you asking me if I try to manipulate people with sex?”

  “You want to win this game.”

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Would you… did you… jerk me off to win?”

  The smile on her face disappeared. Just poof.

  Not good. Not good, Shep.

  But it was too late to backtrack. And even when he was able to backtrack, he usually stumbled over his own feet. “Never mind,” he mumbled.

  He didn’t have any problem interpreting the glare she leveled at him. She was a hundred pounds of pissed-off woman. That was a certainty when she marched on up the trail in front of him, her guitar shifting side to side just enough to reveal her butt muscles flexing with every angry step she took.

  Probably not the time to check out the flex. But the shift and play of the muscles entranced him the way he enjoyed looking at complex patterns. Only three muscles in the human posterior, but if they were in good shape, they had the ability to transfix a man. One muscle in the female vagina, and it could lobotomize a man.

  “I can feel you staring at my ass.” Her words were clipped, like little chunks of wood flying away from a lumberjack’s ax.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? Staring at my ass or calling me a game whore?”

  This was bad, even he knew that. And if it was bad, that meant Joss might change her mind about having sex with him. He jogged to her side and said, “I still want to have sex with you.”

  “Even though I’m a whore.”

  Her using that word twice was an even worse sign, so Shep shut up before he screwed up more.

  Thirty minutes later, they were the first ones to arrive at the turnoff for the alternate campsite he’d chosen. It was only a few steps off the trail, so he turned around and called back to everyone besides Joss, who was still stomping up the mountain. “Camp will be to your right. Turn here at the big loblolly pine and you’ll see the clearing within twenty feet. Once we get there, let’s unload gear and packs. Then the opportunity will start in half an hour.”

  “What is the opportunity?” Bradley asked.

  “I’ll tell you in thirty minutes,” Shep said. Then he turned and jogged up the hill to catch Joss. “Hey.” He snagged her elbow and pulled her off the trail to the right and backtracked to a small meadow. “We’re making camp here.”

  “Great.”

  But it wasn’t. He could tell that from her tone of voice. So he told Puck, “Puck, down.” His dog dropped to the ground and stretched out on his side. “I’ll be back in a minute to give you water.”

  With his grip still on Joss, he led her into trees surrounding the site he’d chosen. “I was not calling you a whore,” he said.

  “Sure sounded that way.”

  “If I thought you were a whore, I would say it.”

  Joss rounded on him, fists tight and chin up. Shep’s heart gave a hard bump against his ribs. There was just something about this woman that threw him off-balance and made him feel totally comfortable at the same time. He had feelings for her, but he didn’t know why or what they meant.

  Finally, she blew out a long breath and dropped her fists. But her chin remained in the air. “I want to win this damn game, but I will not screw anyone—especially you—to win it.”

  “Why not me?”

  Her laugh was breathy. She closed her eyes and gave a slow head shake that Shep had seen numerous times from his female relatives. His dad had told him it basically meant you’re a total dumbass, but I’m trying to have patience and forgive your dumbassness. “Because I could care about you.”

  She had feelings for him, too.

  Which meant he definitely needed to make this right. Since there was no way he was going to understand the intricacies of this conversation and whatever he’d done to piss her off, he just sucked it up and said, “I know I said something that upset you, but I’m not sure exactly what or why. I tried, but the conversation had too many threads for me to trace them all.”

  “You’re telling me that you couldn’t pick them all apart if you wanted to?”

  “Well, if I had enough time, but the conversation happened so quickly, and I knew it had gone wrong right away. I didn’t think you would be happy if I waited any longer to say something else to you.”

  “That’s very insightful of you.”

  “Do you want to fight about it?”

  Another laugh, which he took as a good sign. A hopeful sign. “No, I really don’t,” she said on a sigh. “And I’m sorry that I tried to turn this into a situation you couldn’t possibly be expected to navigate. Hell, a normal man couldn’t…”

  Her words trailed off and this time, when her eyes clamped shut, it wasn’t because he’d made a mistake.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m not normal.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No one in my family is, though,” he told her.

  “You mean you’re all…”

  “On the autism spectrum? No, but we are kind of loud. We like to give each other a hard time, and we all have our problems. So I guess if having problems is normal, then maybe we are all normal.” Hell, he was even confusing himself now.

  “Because there really is no normal, is there?”

  He’d never really considered that before. Even though his family understood him, accepted him, he’d always believed he was on one of the far ends of the normality bell curve. But if there was no such thing as normal, there was no real standard for him to be measured by.

  And that was something he wanted to let sink in. “Are we okay now or would another apology be appropriate?”

  Joss laughed, and the smile he was coming to treasure made a shy appearance. “We are absolutely okay.”

  * * *

  She shouldn’t have snapped at him, Joss knew that. Even when Shep said something outrageous or hurtful, he wasn’t being a prick. Not really. He was just stating what he saw and asking questions he wanted the answers to.

  And when you threw in sex, well… That topic was a minefield for anyone.

  God, could she have been more insensitive—insinuating he wasn’t normal? He was right. So right. There was no such thing as normal in this world. And thank God for it because Joss herself had benefitted immeasurably from not being normal. It had brought her incredible fortune. Outrageous fame.

  And if she were being honest with herself, sometimes unmanageable fear.

  “You’re not just saying that we’re okay, are you?” Shep asked her. “Because I need to go give Puck some water.”

  Joss did an internal check and made sure she was being abs
olutely level with him. “No. Everything is really okay.”

  He nodded and walked away. Not in the least ashamed, Joss watched his butt, the swing of his muscular arms, the width of his shoulders. He wouldn’t be an easy man to have a relationship with.

  Relationship. Why would she even think that word? That hadn’t been in her vocabulary even before the accident. She’d been too caught up in the next move of her career.

  She hadn’t come to North Carolina to bond with anyone but her adoring public. So why was she so drawn to Shep Kingston?

  Possibly because he was WYSIWYG—what you see is what you get. That was uncommon these days and almost unheard of in Joss’s world. Everyone was out for something, had an underlying motive that they dared not share.

  But this man was different. In a way that made Joss feel clean again. Made her feel as if the oily guilt inside her might eventually recede. That she might be able to stop loathing herself.

  “Goddammit!” Shep’s roar came from the vicinity of camp, and Joss took off running, her pack and guitar bouncing against her spine.

  “What?” she said as she skidded into the open area. “What happened?”

  Shep pointed at his unzipped pack. “Someone drank the fresh water I had for Puck.”

  Any second now, Shep was going to…

  And there it was. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out the length of cord. He tied a trio of knots in rapid succession with jerky and intricate movements of his fingers.

  “Someone better tell me who stole my dog’s water or I’m going to strap every damn one of you to a tree and use you as bear bait.” With the storm brewing in his eyes and the way he was starting to pace around the camp, Joss had no doubt that he had not only the skill but also the capacity to do exactly that.

  But the other four people were just standing around, looking anywhere but at Shep.

  “Tell him,” she demanded. “You owe him that much.”

  Finally, Lauren pointed at the young camera guy. “I’m sorry, Zach. But I have to tell them you were the one.”