Seducing Allie: Seattle Steam, Book 3

by Shelli Stevens

  “Allie, wait.”

  She glared at him and tugged the flap up, then disappeared inside.

  Clint sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. Hell, for a minute there it had looked as if their week together could be a less about fighting and more about the pleasure. And now she’d shoved him away again—physically and emotionally.

  He adjusted his jeans, easing the pressure of denim against his cock. She wouldn’t stay in there forever. Eventually Allie would have to come out.

  Before this week was finished he was confident he and Allison would be lovers. He’d be killing two birds with one stone. When he finally returned her to Seattle, he would have scratched the sleep with Allie itch, and Kenneth would be safely married.

  His mouth curved into a slight smile as he went to start the fire.

  Allison sat on the sleeping bag on the inflatable bed, her legs drawn up to her chest and her chin on her knees.

  She listened to the sound of some kind of frog-like thing coming from the lake behind them, and the crackling of the fire she could see burning outside the tent.

  The reminder that she hadn’t eaten in hours came from the angry growl in her stomach. She bit back a groan and breathed in the smell of cooking meat and smoke.

  Clint had come in about an hour ago to invite her to sit by the fire while he cooked dinner. And she’d been damn tempted, because it was getting cold in this tent.

  But she hadn’t gone. Had stubbornly refused to respond and stayed put on the inflatable bed. Which, to her surprise, was rather comfortable.

  How long had she been in this tent anyway? Sitting in the dark and cursing him out in her head. She’d given up trying to see anything. Once the sun had set, the only hint of light came from the fire outside.

  Her stomach growled again.

  “Dinner’s done, Allie.”

  His carefree announcement from outside made her want to chuck something at him again. But it was a little hard being that he was out there and she was in here.

  Folding her arms across her stomach she ground her teeth together and refused to answer. Who needed to eat? Food was overrated anyway.

  Footsteps sounded outside the entrance to the tent, and she heard the pull of the zipper. A second later the silhouette of Clint hovered in the doorway.

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me.”

  “I heard you, I’m just not listening. There is a difference you know.”

  “Okay then.” The flap fell down, shrouding the inside in darkness again.

  Strong arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her off the bed.

  “Clint, put me down!” She struggled against him as he hefted her higher into his arms.

  “Can’t do it. If by some chance you do try and file a police report later, the last thing I’m going to have added to it was that I starved you.”

  Anger bubbled up in her belly and she pounded her fists against his shoulders. “I’m choosing not to eat.”

  “Well, I’m choosing for you to eat.” He pushed them out of the tent.

  The brightness and smoke from the campfire stung her eyes. She blinked several times, her eyes watering.

  “Have a seat.” He deposited her into a folding chair.

  Allison ground her teeth together and glared up at him. “You have this cave man mentality about you lately that can drive a girl nuts, you realize that?”

  “Drive them nuts in a good way?”

  “Not so much.” Her lower lip jutted out and she turned to glare at the fire.

  The heat slowly made its way through her body, easing the chill in her bones. She spotted hotdogs on sticks arched over the fire and her mouth watered. The fire spit and crackled, the wood shifting in the pit.

  “Do you want a beer?”

  She jerked her gaze back to his. “A beer?”

  He sat in a folding chair just inches from hers and popped open a bottle. “There’s water or beer. Take your pick.”

  She narrowed her eyes. God, she’d cut off her right arm for that beer after the last two days she’d had. But would it really be smart to mix alcohol and Clint?

  “Come on, you know you want it.” His grin widened and he leaned forward, waving the bottle in front of her face.

  The hell with being smart. She snatched the bottle from his hand and leaned back in the chair again.

  Bringing the bottle to her mouth, she took a long drink.

  “Bun or no bun?”

  She set the bottle down and looked at Clint again. He stared at her, a slight smile curving his lips. His profile flickered in the firelight.

  “Bun.” She didn’t even pretend to not know what he referred to. She wanted that damn hot dog.

  He pulled the stick from the ground and reached for the bag of buns nearby. After pulling the dog from the stick he laid it on the bread and handed it to her.

  “Sorry, I didn’t bring condiments.”

  She accepted the hot dog with a shrug. “I don’t need any. Despite what you may think, I’m actually pretty low maintenance.”

  “Except when it comes to polyester.”

  “Hey, it irritates my skin.” She waved the dog at him and scowled. “But I checked the label on this Pollyanna-style sweat suit you bought me, and it’s mostly cotton. So I should be okay.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Allison sat the beer between her thighs and lifted the hot dog to her mouth. She took the first bite and nearly orgasmed on the spot.

  “That good?”

  She nodded. The hot dog tasted like no hot dog she’d ever eaten before. It was like the sovereign of all hot dogs.

  “What brand is this?”

  “I’m not really sure. Whatever was cheap.”

  She took another bite and gave him a suspicious glance. “Okay, I buy the cheap stuff, and it doesn’t taste anything like this.”

  “Well, that’s because you don’t cook it over a campfire.” He lifted his own beer and took a long swallow. “It makes them twenty times better. At least.”

  She watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed. Awareness and heat slid slowly through her body as she stared at him. Part of it was the beer kicking in, and part of it was just Clint.

  When she’d told him he made her a little stupid, she hadn’t been lying. The moment he touched her, or hell, even looked at her in that way, she became one big puddle. This was definitely new. Back in college he’d never affected her this way.

  She lifted the beer and took a few hard draws.

  “How about another beer since you’re nearly done with that one.”

  She bit back a sigh. Why not? Already that one beer had improved her grumpiness a little.

  “Sure.” She finished the last bit in her current bottle and set it on the ground.

  As Clint handed her another beer, she asked, “So the forest ranger thing. What gives? You never really said. I know you liked the outdoors as a kid, but what made you decide to go all the way? You get all hyper off those Smokey the Bear ads as a kid?”

  “There’s no ‘the’.”

  She paused, the beer bottle halfway to her lips. “What?”

  “It’s Smokey Bear, not Smokey the Bear.” He pointed his bottle toward her. “Everyone gets confused, because of this song written about him, and that’s where the the came from.”

  She lifted an eyebrow and shook her head. “Wow, you learn something new every day. I didn’t realize it was such a controversy.”

  “Ah, see, and it is.” His mouth curved and he let out a soft laugh. “But Smokey’s not the reason I decided to become a forest ranger.”

  “No?”

  “Nah. Dad took me camping all the time.” He glanced out over the lake. “Nature is in my blood. Being outside. Away from the chaos of the city.”

  She gave a slight nod. She could see that. The food was good, the fire was warm. It probably was pretty relaxing when you didn’t have the stress of being kidnapped thrown in.

  Her lips twitched as she finished off her hot dog, th
en chased it with another sip of beer.

  When he’d come up during the summers, Clint had always challenged her to get outdoors more. Exploring the Arboretum, walking along any one of the beaches on the west side, or finding any places with trees to go nature walking.

  Then the teen years had hit, and Kenneth had started to think about girls, and Allison’s friends had started to act like girls and by the time Clint returned the next summer she’d become a little less outdoorsy and much more of the mall rat.

  They’d still all hung out, but their activities tended to revolve around the movies and malls more. Maybe a beach walk every now and then. She felt a twinge of guilt. It totally hadn’t been Clint’s cup of tea, she could realize now, so why had he indulged her?

  “Do you just hate the city or what?” she asked.

  “I don’t hate it.” Clint leaned forward and kicked one of the logs on the edge of the fire. The wood shifted and the flames spit higher. “And I don’t mind visiting. I just wouldn’t want to live there.”

  “So do you live here?” She gestured to the woods around them. “Do you have some tiny cabin with the word Ranger above it?”

  He laughed and reached for another beer. “No. This is where I come to relax. I live about an hour from here, closer to population.”

  “Shopping?” she asked with a smile.

  “Depends on your idea of shopping.”

  “Hmm.” She stretched her feet out, curling her toes in her shoes away from the fire.

  He didn’t say anything more, and she’d run out of things to say for the moment. She watched the way the firelight danced off the campsite as the steady crackling and shifting of wood calmed her.

  Her body had warmed by now, from the fire and the alcohol. In fact she’d slipped comfortably into that peaceful state between relaxed and drowsy.

  She tilted her head back in the chair and looked up at the stars through the break in the trees. Her brows drew together in fascination. So big and bright.

  “They’re pretty amazing, huh?”

  “I haven’t seen stars this bright since…” she trailed off. “Well, ever.”

  “Hmm. You remember that night,” Clint began thoughtfully. “Back one summer when we snuck out of the house to go to a bonfire up in Richmond Beach?”

  It didn’t take long for the memory to come, and Allison’s mouth twitched at the fond memory.

  “Oh yeah. And we all went wading in Puget Sound with our jeans on? You kept threatening to throw me in all the way. That was a fun night…” She glanced up at the sky again. “I remember thinking the stars were huge, but they were nothing like this.”

  “No, they weren’t. You were flirting that night with some guy. You two ever hook up?”

  “Ah, yeah. Ricky. My first official boyfriend in high school. We weren’t together long. He was a lousy kisser.” Nothing like you, she almost added but bit her tongue before she could say the insane words.

  Clint grunted. “Tomorrow night, if you want, we can hike to an area more open and get a better view of the entire night sky.”

  Her eyes drifted shut. “Tomorrow night?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “How long are you really going to keep me here, Clint?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him again.

  “I thought we discussed this, Allison. We’ll come back Sunday night.”

  “Sunday night,” she repeated, the disbelief surging up fast and strong again. When he’d first told her, she’d almost been convinced he was telling the truth. But over the past couple of days she’d realized he had to be just pulling a scare tactic.

  And yet he kept saying it. One week. He would keep her for one week.

  He had to be bluffing. She was ninety-eight percent positive. If he kept them up here until Sunday night, then he’d miss Kenneth’s wedding. And there was no way Clint would miss that.

  She’d wager he’d keep her here for two or three nights, tops. But surely not an entire week.

  “All right.” She shrugged and finished off the rest of her beer and grabbed another. “Whatever you say, buddy.”

  Chapter Nine

  Clint stared at her, unease in his gut. She’d certainly seemed cavalier in her reply. Had almost seemed to brush him off. Maybe she didn’t believe him.

  He took a long draw on the beer. She probably thought he wouldn’t want to miss Ken’s wedding. She’d be wrong. He and Kenneth weren’t that close anymore, and attending a black tie wedding made him a bit ill at ease just thinking about it.

  If Allison thought he was bluffing about keeping her away for the week, it was probably better that way. It’d at least give him a few days of peace. Until the moment she realized he’d meant every word, then he’d have to start playing the dodging game again. The woman loved to throw things when she got upset.

  He glanced up and watched as Allie downed half the beer in a few swallows. A few seconds later she stumbled to her feet. Jeez. Was she drunk? He’d forgotten what a lightweight she was.

  “I need to wash my face.”

  His lips twitched, but he stifled the chuckle. He swung his arm and pointed to the lake.

  “There’s your faucet. If you want soap there’s an environmentally friendly bottle of wash in that bag over there.”

  The air hissed out from her mouth, before she stomped off to grab the soap, before going down to the water’s edge.

  He set down his empty beer bottle and watched her.

  The sweats tightened over her bottom when she bent down to the lake, and his gaze drifted over the curves of her body. Lord did he want her. Flat on her back. From behind. With her on top. On her hands and knees.

  Hell, how long had it been since he’d had a woman? Months at least. His job and location made it harder to meet women. Of course the small town of Altwood was just under ten miles from his home, but most of the folks there were seniors, married with kids, or confirmed bachelors like himself. Not a whole lot of women in the part of Montana he lived.

  “Euggh.” Allison rushed back from the lake and scowled. “If my face breaks out I am so not going to be happy.”

  “You look great,” he said truthfully. Fresh faced with no makeup, skin glowing in the firelight.

  “Hmm”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you complain a lot?”

  She cracked a smile. “I consider it bitching, and it’s a skill I pride myself on.”

  He thought of the nightgown he’d bought her and his blood thickened. How would she react when he handed it to her?

  “I’ll be right back.” She stood up again, knocking over a beer with her foot.

  He watched as she fumbled her way into the tent. He could hear her moving about inside, muttering to herself.

  A smile curved his lips and he stood to pick up the bottles. After cleaning up, emptying his bladder, and washing up in the lake, he finally made his way back to the tent.

  His original plan had been to seduce Allie tonight, but something told him it might not be in the cards. He unzipped the tent and climbed inside, his glance falling on the bed.

  Definitely not in the cards.

  Allison lay sprawled out across the bed, still fully dressed but out cold.

  “Well, you did give her beer,” he muttered to himself and tugged off his T-shirt.

  Once undressed, he walked over to her and tugged off her shoes. He managed to get her pants off without waking her, and decided to just leave her in the sexy-as-hell panties and shirt he’d bought her.

  He tucked her into the sleeping bag and zipped it up to her chin. She barely stirred, just moaned as she snuggled around inside the cocoon.

  He touched her cheek, grazing his finger over the soft skin. So sweet. God he’d really missed her over the years.

  Clint settled into the sleeping bag next to her and sighed, hoping like hell he was wrong and she didn’t really have any lingering feelings for Ken.

  The next day Clint woke early. Naturally
a morning person, it was instinct to leave the tent at the first crack of dawn to wash up quick in the lake and then go build a fire.

  He’d slept hard last night. They both had. Allison was still asleep. She hadn’t even stirred when he’d left the tent.

  After crunching some newspaper in the fire pit, Clint laid some kindling on top. Crouching down, he lit a match and held it to the paper, watching it catch fire.

  The zipper on the tent sounded and he jerked his head up, his blood pounding a little faster in the anticipation of seeing Allison.

  It took a moment. He watched her small hands pry back the edges of fabric before her head popped out.

  “Is it cold out there?” she asked groggily. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but a few blonde wisps had escaped to fall around her hazel eyes.

  “Probably.”

  She sighed and looked down at the ground, mumbling something.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

  Her head snapped back up, her eyes flashing now. “I said I need to shower.”

  “There aren’t showers here.”

  “Yes, I realize that.” Her nose wrinkled. “But perhaps you could explain how one would bathe or shower while camping?”

  “You bathe the same way you washed your face.” He jerked his thumb toward the lake. “In there.”

  He heard the deep breath she drew in as her eyes drifted shut.

  “That lake is pretty damn cold.”

  “Then don’t bathe.”

  “Umm, gross. I need to shower and if freezing my ass off is the only way it’ll happen, then I’ll do it.” She scowled and pulled her head back into the tent.

  Clint bit back a laugh and walked over to the SUV, opening it and pulling out the bacon and eggs. This would probably be the only morning they could eat the good stuff. Once the ice melted in the chest, they’d be stuck with the dry foods unless he decided to make another run into town to grab some more ice.

  Slamming the door shut again, he made his way back to the fire, food and a box of cooking supplies in his arms.

  He’d just set down the supplies when Allison stepped out of the tent.

  “I can’t believe I’m camping,” she grumbled. “Why couldn’t you be a little more civilized and take me somewhere with plumbing? Maybe even a shower?”