by Raina James
Randall had watched them, his fists curling in impotent anger. As if sensing his stare, Serena's lashes fluttered open. She saw Randall. In an instant, her eyes went from hazy, languid blue to shocked sapphire. Gasping, she tore her mouth from Riff's and her hand flew up to cover his on her breast, as if to hide what he was doing.
Riff, his head jerking around to see what had startled her, glared at Derek. He'd shifted, shielding Serena with his body. "Yeah, Dick?" His voice sounded as menacing as his eyes looked. "You want something?"
Self-preservation kicked in. Randall had backed away, shaking his head.
After that, whenever they'd bumped into each other Riff had watched Randall like he was just waiting for him to say something. It was obvious Riff and Serena were keeping their relationship a secret. That was the only time he'd seen them together in public; he kept an ear out, but no one else around town so much as hinted that they were an item.
Randall didn't need Riff's silent threat to keep his mouth shut. He wasn't stupid. But he wasn't averse to getting back at them either. As a result, he became a frequent—if hidden—visitor to the Logan property. Because that was where they liked to fuck.
Without even knowing it, Serena and Riff had been two-thirds of a threesome, and Derek Randall their silent partner.
Ah, memories. Randall's mouth twisted in a malicious smirk. Shaking off his pleasant reverie, he concentrated on his current agenda.
With the instincts of a rodent, he skirted the edge of the yard, sticking close to the trees until he could scurry across the open space to the porch. Close up, everything looked just as dark. He cautiously rounded the beefed-up cabin, pausing at each window. Hearing and seeing nothing, he moved on. He paid particular attention to the room that used to be Riff's. Through the sheer curtains, he could make out the shapes of bulky furniture and little else. He craned his neck to see the bed, which was situated beneath the window; it was made up, but unoccupied. By the time he reached the back of the cabin, Randall was starting to think that maybe Serena and Riff were upstairs and he'd made the trip out here for nothing.
Disappointed, he was about to give up when he noticed it. Firelight, glowing warmly on the trees separating the small backyard from the beach. So that's where they are.
Suppressing a snicker, Randall picked his way down the overgrown path, keeping a careful eye out for anything that might give away his presence. The flickering light intensified as he neared the end of the trail, as did the distinct voices of a man and woman, talking, laughing. He stopped just where the path widened and the sand of the beach began. Any further and they might spot him. Unfortunately, while he could hear them, he couldn't see them.
Frustrated, Randall glanced around, looking for inspiration. Maybe, if he … Parting the bushes to one side of the path, careful not to rustle them too loudly, he sidled into the surrounding forest. Tiny threads brushed against his face, stuck there. Panicked, he used both hands to roughly rub the spiderweb off, hoping the resident hadn't migrated with the web. Fighting his revulsion, he maneuvered in the brush until he was stretched out beneath a particularly large shrub at the edge of the sandy beach. Using just his fingertips, he slowly parted the weeds in front of his nose, and looked out. Bingo.
Riff and Serena sat on a large, pillow-strewn blanket in front of a campfire. Riff's voice rumbled as he said something Randall couldn't make out; apparently, his comment was quite witty, since Serena tipped her head back and laughed. Even from his hiding place about fifteen feet away, Randall could see she was aware of nothing but the man beside her. He knew that look on her face, too. So did his cock. Half-hard already, he stiffened further in anticipation of what was to come. Quite literally.
Randall grinned. Making one last check to ensure the camera's flash was disabled and the settings were in the right positions for the lighting, he adjusted the lens until Serena and Riff filled the viewfinder.
Shifting, he pressed the bulge in his pants into the soft, loamy ground, stifling a grunt of pleasure. This was going to be good.
* * * *
Serena leaned back against her cushion with a satisfied groan. "Well, I'm packed."
"Surely you've got a little bit of room left," Finn wheedled. "I'll be crushed if the dessert I slaved over goes to waste."
"Going to my waist is the problem," Serena said, then laughed as he gave her a mournful look. "Okay, okay. I can probably squeeze in a few more bites. But then that's it, I swear, or you're going to have to roll me into the house."
Finn gave a snort of disbelief, then made a production out of rummaging around in the cooler. "And, the piece de resistance …" He triumphantly lifted out a clear plastic bag. "Marshmallows!"
Laughing, he ducked the small pillow she lobbed at his head.
"Wow, you went all out. I'm impressed."
Finn tipped his chin with mock arrogance, a lord accepting a peasant's gratitude. "Nothing but the best for you, my dear."
Finn grabbed a couple of fresh sticks, impaling a fluffy white cylinder on the end of each. The firelight gilded his features with a seductive sheen she found hard to resist. Not that she was trying. To resist, that is. His hair had fallen forward on his forehead. His silver eyes, intent on roasting his marshmallow to perfection, had taken on the same golden hue as the lowering flames. The lines of tension that had marked him just a few days ago seemed to have fallen away from his face. He looked younger, happier.
Her gaze followed Finn's hand as he put another log on the fire, sending a burst of sparks spraying into the air like a swarm of fireflies. It reminded her of how he'd looked last night, when he'd built up the fire in the hearth—and in her.
"Hey, watch your marshmallow!"
Startled, she glanced at the end of her stick to find her marshmallow quickly shrinking into a ball of flaming charcoal. "Oh!" Yanking it away from the fire, she tried to blow it out. Too late. Finn's teeth flashed white as he grinned, silently laughing at her.
Striving for dignity, Serena took a nibble of the blackened remains. "I like mine this way. Adds bite."
"Yeah, right." Like a wine steward showing off a rare vintage, he laid his stick over his arm and presented her with his perfectly bronzed marshmallow.
"I'm fine—"
"I insist."
He was far too smug, she thought. Finn had been calling the shots all night. Nice as it was to let someone else take charge, maybe it was time she threw him a few curves. With a challenging smile, she liberated the marshmallow from his stick, holding it delicately between her fingertips. Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, she licked a dollop of melted sugar out of the centre of the treat. Amusement fading, his expression tightened with hunger. His eyes seemed riveted to her mouth.
"Mmmmm. This is delicious."
"You forgot some," he said, his voice rough. She flicked her tongue out to catch a bit of stickiness on the corner of her mouth.
Finn slowly shook his head. "Still there. Let me get that for you."
He put his stick down, unmindful of the sand. Bracing his hands on either side of her hips, he leaned forward, suddenly seeming like a sleek predator crouched over its prey. His attention never left her mouth. Unmoving, Serena breathed sharply through her nose. Her lids half-lowered with want as she absorbed his spicy, masculine scent. The feel of his tongue, just grazing her lips, made her gasp. Her hands, one still holding the forgotten marshmallow, fell limply into her lap.
"Shhhh," he whispered, steadying her with nothing more than his mesmerizing voice. Again his tongue stroked the corner of her mouth, licking away the last of the sticky marshmallow. "Mmmmm. You're right. Delicious."
His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, teasing, asking, demanding entrance. Heart pounding erratically in her chest, she opened without hesitation. He sank into her. Their tongues twined together in prelude of a more intimate mating.
Finn lifted one hand and stroked her throat, his wide palm easily circling the slender column. The motion both soothed and stirred. Serena moaned in denial whe
n his fingers left her skin, then in relief when her shirt parted under his skilful touch. The drugging quality of his kiss intensified as he used teeth, tongue and lips to love her. He needed both hands to defeat the tiny buttons of her tank top. She was too caught up in the sensual heat spreading from her belly to mind when the cool night air sent a ripple of gooseflesh over her skin. Instead, her breath hitched with excitement at the dual stimulation.
Finn's fingers grazed her throbbing breasts and she felt his lips curl against hers in a smile. "No bra? Aren't you the naughty one." He gave one taut nipple a gentle tweak.
Serena moaned and nipped at his bottom lip, hard. He inhaled sharply, let her lure him into another deep kiss, but pulled away too soon. She opened her eyes, about to protest. The way he sucked in a shaky breath, obviously fighting for control, pleased her to no end. His hands, though, were steady when he raised them to cup her breasts.
"Such pretty breasts, Serena. So delicate and creamy, topped with bright little berries." His hands moved to cover her nipples, brushing his palms over them in a teasing, circular motion. "I just want to lick you all over. So sweet."
As if to show her what he meant, he leaned down and ran his tongue from the curve of one breast to its tip, like he was lapping up an ice cream cone and couldn't wait to get to the cherry on top. A jolt of pleasure zinging through her, Serena lifted her own hands to help him out of his own shirt, intent on doing some licking of her own. Now. He caught her wrists, holding her still.
"Please, Finn. I want to touch you too." She didn't care that she begged, as long as it got her what she wanted. Finn. Naked.
"Oh, baby, there's nothing I want more. But not just yet." He put pressure against one wrist, gently forcing it away from him. Not understanding, she looked down. And saw her fingers were smeared with sticky white foam from the forgotten marshmallow. Lost in Finn, and what he was doing to her, she'd crushed it almost beyond recognition.
"Oh!" She started to murmur an apology. Finn hushed her—"Waste not, want not"—and guided her own hand to her chest. With the care of a consummate artist, he coated one nipple with the melted sugar, then the other. Lifting her fingers, he used that clever tongue of his to clean away the last of the stickiness. Serena practically purred.
Eyes hot, Finn placed her hands on the blanket, palm-down, behind her hips. The position arched her back until the sides of her unbuttoned shirt and tank top fell away, baring her to the waist. Her sweet-smeared breasts, shakily rising and falling with each breath, tilted up to Finn like a pagan offering. He pressed the backs of her hands in a definite "stay there" order.
Finn held her gaze as he spoke, his voice heavy with promise. "Now, it's my turn for dessert."
Though she was expecting it, yearning for it, the shock of his tongue circling one sugar-painted nipple had her lifting towards him, pressing her aching breast further into his mouth. Eagerly, he suckled her deep and hard. Fiery waves streaked through her body and back to her nipple. Finn's hand settled on her lower back, supporting her as her arms trembled in reaction. He hummed with pleasure, the vibration setting off another burst of need low in her belly, between her thighs. He drew away until her nipple left his mouth with a wet pop. Then he turned his attention to lapping away the sugar coating her other nipple.
Distantly, Serena heard someone uttering an incoherent litany of pleasure and encouragement; realized it was her voice, but couldn’t really concentrate on what she was saying.
Leaving her breasts, Finn slowly licked his way up her throat until his lips again covered hers in a soul-deep kiss. His chest pressed against her sensitized breasts, the rasping cotton of his shirt setting off tiny charges of pleasure beneath her sensitized skin. Finally, her trembling arms lost their battle to hold her up. With a cry, she tumbled back—to sink into a pile of cushions Finn must have gathered behind her.
He followed her down, his hips settling against hers as she rose up to cradle him between her thighs. Arms wrapped around Finn's neck, she fed at his mouth like she'd never get enough of him. Finn rubbed the bulge in the front of his jeans against the crotch of her pants, his body calling hers to join him in the ancient rhythm. When it came, the lightest brush of his fingers against her nipples was too much. With a broken cry, Serena fell apart. His hips pulsed against her in an insistent rhythm until the last quivers of orgasm faded, leaving her limp and soft beneath him.
Finn, his chest heaving as he fought for control, sat up and stripped the rest of her clothes off, quickly but with care, until she was wore nothing more than the firelight. That seemed to use up the last of his control. He yanked off his own clothes with jerky motions, seemingly oblivious to the sounds of strained seams and popping buttons. The last of Serena's lethargy fell away as she watched him toss his jeans aside.
Condom! Thankfully, her last stop in Wolf Lake had been a pharmacy. Serena found her pants and dug in the pocket for the strip she'd tucked there before coming downstairs. Tearing it open, she turned to Finn. She looked from the condom to Finn's erection.
"I think you'd better do it."
With a rough chuckle, Finn took the condom and rolled it on with speedy efficiency. Sheathed, he reached out, not for Serena, but a pillow that had been dislodged from the pile. Without a word, Serena lifted her hips so he could slide it beneath her buttocks, raising her up to meet him. Hooking his elbows under her knees, he spread her wide and penetrated her with a single hard thrust. They both moaned.
Immediately, his hips took up the rhythm he'd left off, this time pounding into her with almost frantic force. Just like that, Serena was quaking with the first tremors of another orgasm. Would she never get enough of him? Her hands roamed over his chest, his flexing belly, along his steel-hard thighs, dragging fingers and nails anywhere she could reach. Finn bared his teeth in pleasure, closing his eyes as his head fell back. The tendons of his neck stood out in sharp relief, his throat working to contain his cries.
Serena's trembling increased, her whole body quivering as she tried to wait for him. As if sensing how close she was, Finn let go of her legs and threw himself over her, his hips never stopping, the thrusts roughly jolting his chest against her erect nipples. The new angle rubbed him against her clitoris, hard and fast, with each advance and retreat. He scooped his hands beneath her shoulders, bracing her, and buried his face in her hair.
"Not just sex, Serena." His voice was a fierce rasp in her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Never just sex with you, Serena. We have always made love."
Serena exploded, hearing his harsh cry join hers as she convulsed in his arms again and again.
* * * *
Derek Randall grunted as his skinny hips thrust his jeans-clad boner into the ground. Caught up as he was, he maintained enough control to hold the camera's lens relatively steady on the couple writhing together on the beach.
The firelight glinted on their sweat-slicked skin as Riff completely collapsed on top of Serena. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his waist in a languid caress, repeating the soothing strokes until his back stopped heaving with labored breaths. At last, as if finally becoming aware of the night's chill, Riff rolled off Serena. Her naked body looked luminescent against her lover's duskier skin and the dark blanket beneath them. Riff tenderly eased her to her side to face the fire and adjusted the cushions under her head. Then he lay back down, pulling her into the curve of his body, and drew one side of the blanket over to cover them both.
Randall waited, but it seemed Riff and Serena, exhausted, weren't planning on moving anytime soon. Only mildly disappointed that there wouldn't be a quickie encore, he eased back from the sand's edge until he couldn't see them anymore. Knowing it would be safer to get away from the scene before checking his camera, he was still unable to resist the temptation. Quickly, he scrolled through the preview images. His smile grew as they flickered past.
Initially, he'd worried that the couple might hear the whirring of the camera's shutter-drive. That concern had soon proved groundless. Randall figured a beach
party could have gone on around them and they wouldn't have noticed a thing. After that, he hadn't hesitated to keep his finger clicking the button as fast as the camera could handle it.
Rubbing the camera like Aladdin conjuring a genie, Randall's thoughts scurried around as he considered his next move. His plans had been nebulous when he'd decided to drive out here. Hoping to catch something interesting on film wasn't the same as actually doing it.
Randall's hands stilled. Anyone familiar with him would recognize "Dick" Randall's smile for what it was—pure viciousness, settling on a target.
The damp leaves on the ground made a squishy rustle as he pushed to his feet. He headed for the footpath, not making any special effort to conceal his presence now that he had what he wanted. Riff was bare-assed on the beach. More importantly, he was also barefoot. Randall was confident he could outrun him if he had to. It didn't hurt that he was most of the way back to the cabin—and well out of sight of the beach—already. He was too caught up in his plans to notice when he stepped on the thin branch. Unlike the fallen leaves, it wasn't in the least soggy. The muffled crack of its breaking quickly faded away into the normal sounds of the forest at night.
* * * *
Serena, warm and content in Finn's arms, twitched. "What was that?"
"Hmmm?" Half asleep, he tightened his hold, snuggling Serena's back closer to his front.
"That noise." Serena started to lean up on one arm, looking into the darkness beyond the circle of light cast by the dying fire. "In the trees."
She felt Finn's shrug. "Probably a fox or something. No one else is out here at this time of year. It's just you," his tugging arm pulled her until she sprawled across his chest, "and me."
His eyes were open now, staring into her face with single-minded focus. The feel of him stirring against her belly, hardening, further convinced her that he was fast waking up. He lifted his head enough to give her chin a nibbling kiss.