by Amy Brent
I shook my head. “I cannot believe you took advantage of the situation. You’re a real piece of work, Blake.”
He shrugged and swallowed the contents of the glass. “You were lost and it was their fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. I went off the trail. I wandered away and I paid the price,” I explained.
He brushed my comments aside. “Just go take your bath.”
He made no move to kiss me or hold me or look at me like I was the only woman in the world he ever wanted to be with. He didn’t look at me like Jake looked at me. It was then I knew for sure. I was so over Blake. It wasn’t just the sex with Jake. It was seeing how a real man treated a woman that had made me see Blake with clear eyes. He was selfish, self-centered and just a real pain in the ass.
I popped open my suitcase and pulled out fresh, clean clothes. I quickly changed, eager to get home.
“You can’t leave. This can be a lovely romantic night away for us. Let’s talk,” Blake said, as if I hadn’t just told him I was leaving. “Let’s start over. When I thought I had lost you, it made me realize how important you are to me. I know things have been difficult, but I’m willing to accept you as you are.”
I scoffed. “As I am? Seriously? You’re ready to accept me and all my flaws? What about you, Blake? Do you honestly think you are some perfect man?”
He shrugged. “I’m not perfect. No one is, but I’m good looking, smart, successful. You could do a lot worse.”
I groaned, fighting back the urge to slap the pretentious dick.
“Blake, we are done. Over. We will never work. Enjoy the room at my expense.”
“You can’t drive. The roads are shit,” he sputtered out.
“I have four-wheel drive. I can drive just fine. I am not staying another minute in this room with you. Goodbye, Blake,” I said, dropping my suitcase to the floor. Pulling up the handle, I rolled it right out the door.
I felt free, and it was a wonderful feeling. For so long, there had always been Blake in the background. Even when we weren’t officially together, he was there. Not anymore.
I waved goodbye to the people in the lobby. People that knew me as the girl that got lost. I didn’t care.
The roads weren’t exactly great, he was right about that, but I was confident I could navigate them just fine. As I made my way down the mountain, I paused at the turn off that would lead me to Jake’s house. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t do it. The man had taken me in because it was the right thing to do in the moment. There was nothing forcing him to let me in again.
I let off the brakes and slowly made my way down the road and off the mountain. I drove to my parent’s house, which was my current home for the month. That was going to be remedied very soon. I needed to put down roots. To grow up and settle down instead of drifting from place to place.
Knocking on the door of the woman who lived next door to my parents, I smiled, anxious to see my dog.
“Hi Mrs. Reynolds. I’m here to pick up Evie. How was she? I hope she was a good girl for you.”
The elderly woman smiled. “She is such a sweetheart. I just love her.”
Evie bounced around the woman’s ankles, anxious for me to pick her up. The Pomeranian had been a gift from Blake. Originally, he had wanted the dog and I didn’t, but once I snuggled with her, I was sold. When Blake and I split, I kept Evie. Blake didn’t care.
“Thank you again. I really appreciate you taking such good care of her while I was gone.”
“Of course, dear. Good night.”
Evie ran around my feet as we made our way back to my parents’ house. They were out of town until next week which is why I had to have Mrs. Reynold’s watch the dog.
When I walked inside, I took a moment to take it all in. I had missed home, but was definitely ready to get my own place. Depositing my suitcase in my room, I headed out to the living room. I plopped down on the sofa and flipped on the TV. Evie jumped up to sit beside me. I laughed at her tiny size compared to Casper, and briefly wondered if they would get along.
“You should see the big guy I hung out with the past couple days,” I said to the dog.
She ignored me.
“The dog,” I clarified. “I hung out with a big, soft dog.”
It wasn’t like she knew I was talking about Jake, but I felt the need to clarify it anyway. I missed him. Both of them. I missed sitting on the couch in the quiet little cabin with nothing but the fire crackling in the woodstove to look at.
“This is the real world, Evie. This is my life.”
The dog ignored me. I leaned back and flipped through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch. Nothing caught my attention. Nothing could when it was so preoccupied by a blonde giant.
“Oh Evie. I’m so screwed,” I moaned.
The past three days had been amazing, life-changing, really. But now, it was time to face the facts. Jake didn’t want a relationship. As if that wasn’t enough, the fact I had lied to him about having a kind-of boyfriend had sealed my fate. Jake was not the kind of guy to trust people. I knew he had trusted me, even if only a little, and I had ruined that by not being honest up front.
I couldn’t have Jake, but I could change my life to make myself a little happier.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jake
It had been only twenty-four hours, but it felt like months since Calla had left. I had washed my sheets, but when I crawled into bed last night, I could still smell her. She was everywhere I looked. I could smell her on me and all around me, and honestly it was making me a little crazy.
“Let’s get out and get some shit done,” I told Casper, gearing up for a long day outside.
The temperatures were warming up. It was above freezing and the sun was out, which meant things turned into a slushy mess. We were expecting rain over the next day or two. That meant it was time to get busy. The snow was already melting, which meant I needed to get my ass in gear and get some cleanup done before it was all too wet and heavy to move. It was a never-ending cycle on the mountain. Always preparing for a storm, riding out a storm and then cleaning up the mess, so the process could start all over again. I didn’t mind really. It kept me busy. When I was busy, I didn’t have to think about things, including Calla.
I shoveled a path to the shed, so I could pull out my snow blower and really start clearing the way. I fired up the engine and got to work, blowing out the snow packed around my truck. I wasn’t anxious to get into town, but I would have to go eventually. Soon enough I had a clear, wide path from the shed to the house.
Once the wood for the next few days was split and stacked, I was almost ready to call it a day. It wasn’t quite dusk yet and I needed to kill more time before I went in for the night. I didn’t want to sit in the empty cabin and think about women that were no longer here.
“Casper!” I called the dog.
His head popped up from his place on the porch where he had been napping. He yawned and stretched before he ambled down the porch steps, following the path I had made.
“Let’s go check those game cameras,” I hollered at him, trying to encourage him to pick up the pace a bit.
The dog didn’t seem all that enthused, but it needed doing. I had to keep a close eye on what was prowling about for my safety and Casper’s. When hunting season came, I would have a good idea where to start looking and what to look for. It was also important to let the lodge know if there were any predators around the area that could put skiers in jeopardy. Plus, it was something else to do, and I really had to stay busy.
Checking the game cameras didn’t take nearly as much time as I had hoped.
“Let’s go, Casper,” I mumbled. “We’ll find something to eat and then settle in for the night.”
As I walked back into the cabin, I immediately felt her absence. She had only been there a short time, but had definitely left a mark. I half-expected to see her at the table playing solitaire or napping on the couch.
“God dammit,” I mu
ttered. “Let it go, man.”
How in the fuck had I let myself get so caught up with her? I stoked up the fire, wanting to take off the chill. I was cold and empty, but knew it really had nothing to do with the temperature in the cabin.
“What should we have for dinner?” I asked the dog, trying to occupy my thoughts with my own voice.
I pulled open a few cupboards. The stuff in the fridge had already been tossed. Tomorrow I’d have to make a trip to town and replenish my perishables. The frequent storms, and associated power outages, was the reason I didn’t keep a lot of food in the fridge during the winter. I saw the oatmeal canister and smiled. It would always remind me of Calla. Hell, everything in the house would remind me of her.
I opened a can of soup and by habit, put it on the woodstove to heat. I had power, but the stove worked just fine. I went to my bedroom to change into something a little more comfortable and suddenly caught a whiff of her.
“Shit.”
It felt as if she were haunting me. If it hadn’t been so cold, I would have opened the window to let some fresh air in. I pulled open my dresser drawer and pulled out the black panties she had left behind. I had found them under the blanket when I stripped the sheets yesterday. I knew it had been on purpose. She had left me a little token of our weekend together. Initially, I had thought to toss them in the trash—I didn’t hold on to mementos and shit like that.
But I didn’t throw them out—I kept them. Picking them up now, I ran my fingers over the satin. I wanted to hold them to my face, but didn’t. I wouldn’t go there.
Instead, I put them back in my drawer. There they mingled with my socks and underwear. It made me feel close to her somehow. Quickly, I changed clothes and went back into the kitchen to get a drink.
“Fuck,” I groaned, another memory of her, pouring herself a drink before she told me about her little boyfriend.
I had it bad, and was acting like a broken-hearted teenager. Calla was not my girlfriend. She was someone I’d enjoyed to end a long sexual dry spell. There were no sweet nothings whispered between us. We had made no promises or vows to see each other again. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I had no reason to be acting like a lovesick puppy dog.
Grabbing my soup, I ate it straight out of the pan. It wasn’t like I needed to use my manners for Casper’s sake. After finishing the bland soup, I settled in with the book Gabe had lent me on that fateful night when I’d been so irritated by the call out for search and rescue. It seemed so long ago now.
The book wasn’t holding my attention. My mind kept drifting to Calla, naked and writhing on the table. My eyes moved to the table and then the floor where I had taken her so roughly last night. The couch had been where we shared our first, passionate kiss.
I put the book on the coffee table, and had no memory of what I had read. It was no use. My mind was never going to let me concentrate on anything other than Calla. It wasn’t just the sex, either. I missed her. I’d never realized how lonely I had been until I had a houseguest taking up space. It was nice having another person to talk to, even if there was more arguing than talking. It was human contact.
“Dammit. I’m going to shower. Then I may as well go to bed early. Not like I’ve got anything else to do.”
I stripped on the way to the shower, not caring where my clothes landed. It didn’t matter. I was the only one that would see them.
Once in the shower, I leaned back and let the hot water wash over my face and down my chest. With my eyes closed, images of Calla danced in my head. One of the sweetest memories was one among those I cherished most and kept shoved back in a dark corner of my mind for only really desperate moments. This was one of those moments.
The image of her sitting at the kitchen table, completely naked, made my dick hard. I reached down and clenched it in my fist. Her fingers gliding deep inside her own pussy had me groaning and squeezing my dick as I slid my fist up and down.
Once I got started, I didn’t want to stop. I was desperate for release. It had been more than twenty-four hours since I had gotten off. Calla had turned me into a raving sex addict. My balls were swollen and in desperate need of relief.
Reaching down, I cupped my aching ball-sack, pulling down and massaging the hard orbs. My hand pumped up and down, sliding over my shaft. The water made it slick, reminding me once again of Calla and her wet pussy, pulling me in and squeezing around my dick.
I rubbed harder, circling my head and rubbing the tip with my thumb.
Now I remembered watching Calla go down on me, her tongue right where my thumb was. Few women had ever done that to me, or for me. I always stopped them. I didn’t like how vulnerable it made me feel when a woman sucked my cock. It took away the control. I was always in control.
“Oh, fuck,” I groaned, feeling the orgasm coming on strong. I pumped faster, my eyes squeezed tight as the hot water hit me square in the back. I turned to face the stream of water, backing up and letting the steady force of hot water hit my dick.
My orgasm had me clenching my teeth, my dick spurting out hot semen onto the floor of the shower. I rocked with the spasms before finally dropping my still hard cock. It had taken the edge off, but it would never be as good as being surrounded by Calla.
I quickly washed and got out of the shower, drying off and slipping on a pair of sweats before heading into the kitchen for another drink. I didn’t drink to get drunk. I drank to settle my nerves and help take off the edge.
“Need to go out?” I asked the dog curled up in front of the woodstove.
I was ready for bed and not interested in getting up to let the dog out later. While Casper took care of his business, I gathered up some wood to keep inside. If I didn’t have to open the door, I wouldn’t. I planned on being as lazy as possible. I didn’t want to do anything except sulk and pout about my lonely existence.
Once the dog was in, I locked up and headed for bed. I knew what depression was. This wasn’t it. This was me pouting and just being a little bitchy in general. I would give myself the day and then it would be over. I wouldn’t think about Calla again. I wouldn’t dwell on the sex or lack of it. I would find another woman to satisfy my needs.
“Goodnight, Casper,” I muttered.
This was my life. My only conversations most days were one-sided. I’d thought it would be enough for me for the rest of my life, but I wasn’t so sure about that now. I’d gotten a taste of the other side of life and knew I was addicted. Like most addictions, cold turkey was the way to go. I’d kick the habit soon enough, I just needed a little time.
Crawling under the covers, I inhaled deeply. I didn’t really smell her. I couldn’t. It was all in my head. I closed my eyes and let myself drift away. The pillows were soft and the blankets I had piled on were heavy, helping me find the sweet comfort of sleep.
I felt myself falling into a dream state. Usually, that would terrify me and I would jerk myself awake before the nightmares began. This time, it wasn’t war or violence I felt filling my mind. It was Calla and her sinful curves. Her sweet smile and that flirty look she gave when she wanted a kiss. My dreams were filled with happy thoughts.
When I woke up in the middle of the night, it was to find my hand on my dick, stroking the erection that was tenting the blankets. I moaned, feeling myself heading towards the cliff overlooking a climax. I hadn’t had a wet dream in a long time. It felt wrong, but I let it go. I tumbled right back into the luscious body waiting for me in my dreams.
I fell asleep with a smile on my face. It was the first time in a long time, maybe ever, and looked forward to the dreams.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Calla
I had been in this inner war with myself for days now and it was making me crazy. My problem was that I felt the call of the wild. I wanted to head straight back to the mountains and never look back. Jake had left an ache in my heart, an ache that left me feeling like a lovesick zombie. I was a shell of a woman. I’d gone for a weekend out of town as one person and returned comp
letely changed. Jake had done that.
It was him that I missed him, not just his dick, although, the emptiness inside me was partially because I had been without him filling me for too long. I did miss his heavy cock, so wet dreams and wild fantasies had become all I had to turn to.
Then there was Blake. God help me, the man had gone off the deep end and had me seriously questioning my mental status over the past couple of years. What the hell had I been thinking to hook up with the man in the first place? He was not only a selfish shithead, he was annoying as hell, and I was sick of him. Now that I had told him to get lost, he was hounding me and being completely insufferable.
“How’s it going dear?” My mother’s voice came through the phone loud and clear.
“Good, Mom. How are you guys enjoying the trip?” I asked her, trying my best to be polite, even though she had just interrupted me, again.
I heard her soft laugh. “It’s been lovely. Your father is having a great time. He wants to go out on some fishing boat.”
“Be careful. Wear your lifejacket,” I teased.
“Are you working, dear?”
“Yes. Trying.”
“Oh, why are you only trying?”
Biting my tongue, I considered my potential replies. I didn’t want to be rude, but the fact that she’d been calling every couple hours wasn’t exactly helping the writing process. “It’s Blake. He’s been hounding me ever since I got back.”
I heard her make a sound that sound like a choke and a grunt combined. “That man is no good for you, Calla. I hope you see that now. You could do so much better. You need a man who supports your career and makes you happy. Your father and I have never really cared for Blake,” she told me for about the hundredth time since I’d first started dating him.
“I know, Mom. I did tell him it was over, but you know men. They want what they can’t have.”
“That’s always the fun part,” she tittered. “Well, except for now. He can’t have you and needs to go away. Should I have your father talk to him?”