by Tesni Morgan
Matt was the other side of a tree and she passed him huffily. “Ready when you are.”
Now they came to difficult parts, with the hill becoming a mountain, the path slippery with loose gravel and handholds a part of the climb. It was exhilarating, even exciting, the vast vista below them, fields becoming no more than patchwork quilts, the valleys deep hollows, the air refined and crisp. They paused when they reached another plateau, wider this time, falling away steeply on either side.
“That’s it, then.” Matt’s hand was steady as he filmed. “I’ll bring them up by this route tomorrow.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to come.” She flung herself on the short, springy turf.
“No, sir! I’ve had a bellyful of you moaning and complaining. Call yourself a hardened campaigner? I don’t think so!”
“Well, thank you very much! You ungrateful sod! And I love you too!”
He wasn’t listening to her, his eyes scanning the rocks above that formed the very tip of Bryn’s Folly. He unfolded the tripod again and angled the camcorder, then he started to climb. Even through her anger Carenza was sensitive to the heroic spectacle he presented—man against nature, lithe and surefooted, his big hands finding crevices, his muscles working overtime as he pitted his strength against the mountain. He seemed invincible and she couldn’t believe it when he suddenly stumbled and fell. She heard him cry out amidst a mini-avalanche of small stones.
She was on her feet in an instant, running toward the cliff face, shouting up at him, “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m bloody not. I slipped on a boulder and twisted my ankle…dammit!” His voice was hoarse with pain, and Carenza began to climb toward him. But, “Stay put!” he ordered. “Don’t want you crippled as well.” And groaning and swearing, he slithered down.
When he reached the bottom, Carenza supported him, for he couldn’t take any weight on his right leg. She managed to get him to a grassy knoll, sat him down and waited for instructions. She’d heard the expression “he or she turned green” but had never seen it in action before. Matt’s face was covered in sweat and definitely that color.
“Does it hurt?” She felt like a dumb fool as soon as the words were out.
“Of course, it bloody hurts!” He was as touchy as a wounded bear. “I might have broken my ankle. Even these boots don’t stop injury if you tangle with a bloody loose rock that gives way under you!”
“I’m sorry. What can I do?” She had never felt more helpless.
“Listen up and listen good,” he instructed. “Get my boot off.” She undid it with fumbling fingers and opened the laces wide. She could see the swelling as soon as the leather parted and, as gently as she could, pulled it away. “Now my sock. Oh Christ! That’s fucking murder!” He winced in agony. “Get a cold compress on it. There’s a spring over there and cotton wool in my bag, a bandage as well. Damn! It’s a bad sprain. I can see it puffing up. It’ll be black and blue soon, but I don’t think it’s a fracture.”
She had never imagined that she’d ever see him struck low—the indestructible Matt. It made him more accessible and she wanted to do all she could for him. She soaked the dressing and wrapped it ‘round his ankle then bandaged it, but not too tightly. She sat back on her heels and looked into his pallid face. “What now?”
“I can’t make it back without help. I’ll get in touch with Clem.” He fumbled in the pocket of his jacket for his mobile and soon there was dialogue. “Clem? Right. I’ve had an accident. Twisted my ankle. I can’t make it home. We’re at the base of the final stretch of Byn’s Folly. No, don’t try to come on foot. You won’t get here until after dark and it’s not that easy to find. Ring mountain rescue and see if they can get a helicopter. Yes, yes, I’ve got my boot off and a compress on, but I can’t walk. I’ll get Carenza to light a fire to guide the copter in. Okay?”
He replaced the phone. “They’ll send a rescue team by air. Get as much brushwood together as you can and keep a fire going.”
She didn’t need telling twice, already off and scouring the place for timber. There wasn’t much on that remote ridge and she scrambled farther down in her search, dragging back heavy branches. He sat there, impotent and raging at his own helplessness. It didn’t improve his temper one iota.
“Will this do?” She heaved the awkward wood.
“We need smaller stuff for kindling…twigs, dried grass. Here, give that to me.” He got out his knife and started to shave one of the branches, making shallow cuts to feather it. “You must make a circle of stones so that the fire doesn’t spread. I’ve taught you this already. Haven’t you been listening? Looks like I’ve been wasting my time. You’ve brought pine and this sparks like fuck. Not as good as hickory, beech and oak. This lasts longer and gives out the most heat. But we need smoke, so you’ll have to pile on green branches once we’ve got it going.”
She did as instructed, biting back angry retorts. He really was the most ungracious of individuals. To think that she had allowed him to penetrate her body, and even enjoyed the sensation! “And how are you going to do this? Rub two Boy Scouts together?” she asked sarcastically, even as she worked like a galley slave, obeying his orders.
He dragged himself near to the stones that she had arranged as a base, then heaped the kindling over a wad of dried grass and fished a lighter out of a pocket.
“Modern methods?” she reproved.
He scowled. “I keep this for an emergency. It’s quicker that the Boy Scout rubbing method. But this doesn’t mean that my trainees can slacken off.” And he ignited the base, adding tiny bits of kindling to the flames and then larger and larger ones.
Soon it was blazing away and Carenza spread green branches over it. Smoke billowed upward. With any luck it would be spotted by their rescuers. She sat back exhausted and he lay on the turf by the fire, injured foot raised high. “All we can do is wait. Thank God for mobiles. Most of the time they’re a damn nuisance, but they do have their uses.” As if evoked by his words, it came to life, with Clem on the other end of the line. “Hello. Yes, we’ve a fire. They’re on their way? That’s good news. We’ll just stay put until the copter arrives. Okay? You’d better ring me as my phone needs charging. Bye. See you soon.”
“You mean to say you didn’t put it on charge?” Carenza was glad to catch him out. Mr. Perfect wasn’t so perfect after all.
“Not so easy to do in camp, and I was otherwise distracted, if you remember? Anyway, you may like to know that Clem has been in touch with the rescue team and they’re coming just as soon as the helicopter is free. There’s only one in this area, apparently, used by the police as well as the medical service. We’ll have to wait our turn as it isn’t exactly a matter of life or death. Look in the kit for painkillers. This is aching like buggery.”
She pressed two tablets from the strip and handed them to him with the water bottle. He swallowed eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. She raised his foot higher, using their packs as props, and covered him with his jacket and hers, remembering that the patient should be kept warm. The fire was doing that, but she needed to be active, worried deep inside. The sun was sinking rapidly, bathing the mountain in crimson and she didn’t much fancy spending the night there with an incapacitated man.
“Are you scared?” His voice broke the stillness.
“I guess I am, a bit,” she admitted.
“Don’t be. Clem will make sure they come for us. Why don’t you sit by me and cuddle up? Don’t look so alarmed! You’ve no need, even though it’s my ankle that’s buggered, not my dick, but I’ve no intention of raping you, Miss Hewitt. Though I will if you want me to.”
There he was again—making fun of her.
“I’m okay over here.”
“Aw, come on! We may have a long wait and might as well make the best of it.” His wide grin was unrepentant. “Get out the emergency chocolate bars and we’ll have a feast.”
She couldn’t resist him, much as she wanted to. It was cozy sitting beside him in the fir
elight with the sky darkening to a deep blue and the birds circling overhead, seeking nighttime roosts. A triangular fly-past of geese made a spectacular show, on their way south to warmer climes. There was a bite in the air and autumn was fast approaching.
Matt put his arm ‘round her and she nestled against his chest. It was so natural a thing to do that she forgot her prejudice against him. They were comrades in arms experiencing difficulties, but even so her blood warmed when he slipped a hand inside her sweater and fondled her breasts. Her nipples peaked and lightning struck her clit. Dear God! What is the matter with me? she thought while it was possible to think at all. I don’t like the guy, do I? Heaven help me! I’m not faIling for him, am I?!
“Kiss me.” He drew her ever closer.
“No.” She pulled back.
His face was red as a demon’s in the firelight. “You wouldn’t be so cruel as to deny an injured man, would you?”
His voice was her undoing, deep, coaxing, with that Australian accent. His lips were closer still and she was powerless to resist. It was a deep kiss, an all-embracing, impossible to refuse kiss. He certainly was a skilled kisser. Carenza could feel herself melting into lubricity, weak in the limbs. Weak in the head, she thought, despairing of her frailty. He shifted a little and she was lying next to him. Still kissing her, he undid her jeans and slid them down. Far from preventing him, she raised herself to make this easier. His fingers were inside now, playing with her, all wet from her response. She couldn’t think of anything but the pleasure.
“I’m going to bring you to orgasm,” he said, lifting his lips from hers for a second.
“What about you?”
“I’d like one. Just to make sure I haven’t damaged my cock, you understand.” He never could stop joking, even in the most serious moments. “Maybe I’m not up to full penetration, but you can give me a wank, when I’ve seen to you. Come on, get it out for me. I’m an invalid, don’t forget.”
“Invalid, my ass.”
“That as well, if you like.”
She opened his fly and took out his engorged penis. It stood up, straight as a poker, the foreskin rolled back from the glistening helm. She stroked it, found lube in the medical bag and anointed it, making it shiny red. Matt groaned, and thrust his fingers deep inside her and the pressure from his hand against her clit robbed her of breath. He started to kiss her again, his tongue echoing what his fingers were doing. The pleasure mounted and mounted to an irresistible peak and she rubbed herself against that knowing frottage, swept away by a climax so intense that she blacked out for a second. He looked into her face and smiled contentedly, kissing her on the nose and letting her rest against his chest.
Then, “My turn,” he said.
She squeezed out another puddle of lube and smeared it over his cock. He groaned and lay back against the log that supported them. Carenza admired his manhood. It really was impressive, long and thick, filling her palm. She closed her hand ‘round it and rubbed up and down, working the foreskin over his dome and then stretching it back again. It was a game she loved to play and had never been able to make up her mind which she liked best. Her lecturer lover had been circumcised, but David wasn’t. Neither was Matt. There seemed to be an added sensitivity to a dick that hadn’t been operated on in childhood. Its hood was like that of her clit, protecting the delicate organ.
She smoothed the lubricant over it, hearing him groan. He jerked against her fingers and it thrilled her to pleasure him so much. He was very slippery and it turned her on. She twisted her wrist on each downward stroke, hearing his sharp intake of breath.
“Oh God, I hope the copter doesn’t come before I do.”
“No chance of that.” She held his cock still while she breathed on its tip.
Then she started to masturbate him steadily and he shut his eyes and went with it. Teasingly, she slowed a little, and he grabbed her hand. “Don’t mess about. I want it now!”
“Calm down.” But she couldn’t stop, longing to feel him lose control.
She speeded up and he arched his back and came violently, long jets of cum shooting from him. Then he slumped, sighing his satisfaction. She found tissues and cleaned him, then tucked his cock away, while he lay there like a well-fed baby who has been at the breast.
It was then that she heard the sound of rotary blades, far away but coming ever nearer. She rearranged her clothing, then stood in the clearing and waved frantically. The helicopter hovered above them. “There’s nowhere for them to land.” Matt recovered quickly. “One of the crewmen will be lowered on a winch, and do a double lift. You go first.”
“But you’re the one who is injured.”
“Don’t argue. Do as you’re told.”
And so it happened. Down came the rescuer and, during the lift, she was told to keep her arms by her sides and not to raise them. A strap was put in place and tightened and the rescuer supported her with his arms and legs as he gave a thumbs-up sign and they were hoisted toward the machine. It was a dizzying sensation, with Matt and the clearing growing rapidly smaller as they rose. They reached the cabin doorway and she did exactly as the winchman directed, soon safely inside.
She waited anxiously as the crewman disappeared again, soon to return with Matt, the camera and their packs. In the midst of her relief, she paused to wonder how much of their recent intimacy had been recorded on film.
Chapter Ten
Clem and a cameraman were waiting at the nearest hospital. He had driven there in one of the FWDs. They had to hang around until Matt was seen. It appeared to be nothing worse than a bad sprain and torn ligaments, and they drove back toward camp with his leg bound and a pair of crutches in hand. He was more than just angry, deeply frustrated at being incapacitated.
“Oh, stop grouching!” Clem said briskly from behind the wheel. “Pity it wasn’t your head, you bad-tempered cuss! Just shut up and listen. I’m taking you to the lodge.”
“You bloody aren’t!”
“I am so. I’ve spoken to David and it’s all arranged. You’ll be fuck-all use at the camp, so may as well direct operations long distance. Have you any idea what a bonus rating-wise this accident is? It’ll add spice to the whole thing. There’s nothing the viewers like better than hospital drama, and we’ve got it in the can. Good job you took a camcorder.”
“Fuck that for a game of soldiers!” Matt had the rear seat to himself, Carenza and the cameraman in the front with Clem.
She was upset, wondering how she was going to get to see him, but apparently this wasn’t part of the equation. He didn’t seem to be bothered about that aspect of his absence. All that was worrying him was how the rest would manage without him.
“I’ll cope, with the help of the lads,” Clem assured him. “You’ve left instructions and we’re pretty well clued up. It’s only a few more days anyway. Should be wrapped by next weekend. Farlan’s giving an end of shoot party. That will be a laugh.”
They stopped off at the lodge, and Matt was helped inside. Carenza was so glad to be back to civilization again—electric light—a loo that flushed—a bar with drinks and a television with a forty-two-inch screen. Jungle living wasn’t for her, but she didn’t want to leave Matt, though he was now treating her with a certain amount of reserve as he had done before. It was as if the episode by the fire had never happened.
He was assigned a room and was on the landline to David straight away. Clem left another cameraman in charge of filming Matt during his recuperation. He was lying on the bed, and waved abstractedly as Clem went out. Then he covered the mouthpiece, looked at Carenza and said, “Thanks.”
“For what?” She was disconcerted by this.
“For everything.” His wicked grin said it all.
She could feel herself blushing, muttered “Goodbye”, and hurriedly followed Clem.
* * * * *
David replaced the receiver in its cradle, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. He wasn’t alone in the ornate master bedroom at the manor. Against all his own
edicts, he had sneaked Laurette there for the night. Even if she was missed, no one would question his right to do what he liked.
“What’s happening? Have they saved the big brute?” She slithered against his naked body, wearing nothing but the flimsiest of silk wraps, open all the way down. Her hand rested on his engorged cock and she trailed her fingers along its length, exerting pressure.
“Oh, yes. Operation Rescue went well and it’s all been filmed. Couldn’t have worked out better. What a scoop. Pity you weren’t there instead of Carenza, being the star and all.”
“Even that wouldn’t have compensated. All that climbing and spending time with him. I don’t even fancy the guy.”
“No? I thought you did. Carenza does, apparently.”
“She says not, but who can tell what goes on in her mind. She’s kind of secretive.” Laurette wriggled her shoulders out of the wrap, and shifted so that she sat astride him, her wet pussy leaving a silvery trail down his body.
Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with other woman when he had her at his beck and call. But then a picture of Carenza flashed across his mind, with her challenging independence. He wanted to break her, to have her fall in love with him so that she became biddable—another of his slaves. At least Matt was out of the running now, that annoying macho man who had interrupted him last time he was screwing Carenza. This left the field clear for him to complete his intention of owning her.
* * * * *
“What happened? Tell all…we won’t be fobbed off!” insisted Vicky when the Cougar Ranger wheeled into the clearing about two in the morning.
“Don’t keep her up any later, chattering.” Clem was really stern. “I’m in charge now.”
“Where’s Matt?” Joanna was tousled-headed and in her nightshirt and shorts.
Clem explained and, though everyone had gathered to hear the news, they soon trailed off to bed. Apart from Vicky and Joanna, who dragged Carenza into Vicky’s tent and demanded details.
“Are you okay, honey? Did he fuck you?”