"Fuck me hard," she suddenly begged. "Please, Sir, fuck me hard."
Carnal fever firing through him, he leaned over her and ripped off her blindfold.
"Say that again."
"Fuck me hard, please, Sir?"
His mouth suddenly on hers, he kissed her with ardent passion, crushing her mouth and diving his tongue between her teeth.
"Move your arms over my head," he ordered breathlessly. "I'm gonna ride you over that canyon and you're gonna fly off the edge."
His comment elicited a deep groan, and as she raised her arms and rested them around his neck, he lowered his body on hers and began to pump.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Amber surrendered to the erotic assault. Pinned beneath him and at his mercy, sensations rocketed through her body. His wiry chest hair brushed against her nipples, his pummeling cock consumed her sex, and when his lips dove back on hers, she pushed her tongue inside his mouth, dancing in time with his vigorous strokes. He didn't slow, but quickened his thrusts, and though she wanted to tell him she was about to explode, a loud muffled moan was all she could manage.
"Come for me now!" he growled, his mouth abruptly leaving hers.
His command catapulted her into the blissful abyss. She could hear his loud groans, but the furor of the intense spasms devoured her, taking her higher and higher, until releasing her from their clutches, she fell limp beneath him.
* * * * * * * * * *
Andrew Stern had not enjoyed the slow drive up the firebreak. The higher he'd traveled, the more furious the winds, and the more debris in his path, but with nowhere to turn around he had to push forward. He did, however, have confidence in the heavy Hummer. When he'd researched Brett's property, and studied the terrain using an overhead drone, he'd called the various car rental agencies in the area until he found one who offered the vehicle he wanted. A seasoned pro, he always made sure he had whatever he needed to fit the circumstances. Stopping the vehicle as close to the woods as possible, he donned a hardhat with a powerful beam, then struggling into his rip-proof Kevlar coat, he'd cursed under his breath.
"Goddamn you, Hoffman. If I get hurt you'll pay through your fuckin' nose."
Taking a firm grip of his camera bag, he'd pushed open the door. In spite of his hellish drive the ferocity of the gusts had taken him by surprise, but gritting his teeth he'd pressed on. Once inside the dense trees he'd found a degree of shelter, but panic was only a heartbeat away.
The sounds were like none he'd ever heard.
Unearthly howls. Cracking branches. Sudden blasts of air.
Telling himself he'd been in worse situations, and promising himself he'd demand serious money from his employer, he'd finally reached the spot offering the view of Brett's bedroom. Crouching down and unzipping his equipment bag, he attached his most powerful telephoto lens, raised the camera to his eye, and peered through the bright night.
A huge grin crossed his face.
The drapes were wide open.
A golden light filled the room.
The beautiful, naked, blonde Amber lying poised over pillows, had been his first shot.
Spellbound by the erotic scene playing itself out, he'd escaped his fear, the clicking of his camera all he'd heard until the superstar untied her, and the two of them climbed between the sheets.
"Fuck me," he muttered, removing the lens and bending over to put it back in the bag. "I'm going to make an absolute fucking fortune."
He heard the odd whooshing sound too late.
Jerking his head around, the lamplight beam caught the owl in flight.
Huge wings extended, talons bared, it swooped towards him.
Letting out a cry, he covered his face with his arms and tumbled to the ground.
Razor sharp claws ripped through his hands.
Wailing in pain and panic he scrabbled forward.
But he'd left his bag.
Quaking in terror as he crawled back, he reached out to grab it.
His shredded skin bled profusely.
Daring to lift his head and shine his lamp into the trees, he saw only the angry wind whipping through the branches, but an ominous hoot rode on the back of the blustery gusts. Seized by a fresh wave of panic, he leapt to his feet, tripping and stumbling as he raced through the forest to the firebreak and the safety of his Hummer. Falling against it, completely out of breath, his chest hurting and his eyes stinging, the merciless winds threatened to lift him off his feet. Desperate to escape the fury he took hold of the door handle, but his bloodied hands slipped on the metal. Tears of agony and terror streaking his face, he dropped his bag and pulled off his coat, using it to grip. Finally managing to open the door, he snatched up his bag and clambered into the car, laying the precious satchel on the passenger seat, but the wind slammed the door shut. The shock sent a fresh wave of fear pulsing through his veins.
"F-fuck. I'm g-going to d-die here," he sobbed, staring at his shredded skin. "M-my f-flask. I n-need m-my f-flask."
Though he managed to unzip the bag and retrieve the solid silver container, he couldn't unscrew the cap, but found success by using the tail of his shirt to gain a grip. Gratefully lifting the flask to his lips, he took a long swig, leaned back and focused on taking slow, deep breaths. Knowing he needed to cover his hands to drive, he suffered through the torture of unbuttoning his shirt, and carefully wrapped the sleeves around his wounds.
"Get me the f-fuck outta here," he muttered, starting up the powerful engine, but as he did he spied his cigarettes on the console. Picking up the packet, he tipped one out, placed it between his lips and lit up. "Okay. N-now we're t-talking," he stammered, blowing out the smoke. "D-damn, I needed this."
A violent gust suddenly rocked the Hummer. Startled, he placed the vehicle into 4WD and started towards the only place he could turn around. Though only a short distance ahead, it seemed like miles, and keeping the cigarette between his bandaged fingers while holding the wheel became impossible. Lowering the window, he tossed it out into the night.
* * * * * * * * * *
In a restful slumber in Brett's arms, Amber stirred as he nuzzled her neck, his rigid rod pressing against her thigh as his hand gently fondled her breast.
"I can't get enough of you," he purred. "I wanna make love to you. Slow, sensuous love."
Sleepily sliding her hand down his torso and wrapping her fingers around his stiff cock, she began to gently stroke.
A boom shocked them apart.
"Was that thunder?" she asked breathlessly. "Did a storm blow in?"
"Didn't sound like any thunder I've ever heard."
Sitting up, they stared toward the window, gasping as they spied a distant orange glow.
"A fire," Brett breathed, his muttered whisper filled with dread.
Grabbing his cell phone he hit the 911 icon, then jumping from the bed, he dashed across the room.
"What is your emergency?"
"There's been an explosion, and I see a fire startin' on the eastern slope of Arroyo Canyon."
"Your name and address, Sir?"
"Brett Preston. 1722 Arroyo Canyon."
"Are you in danger?"
"Not yet, but I will be if the trucks don't get here fast."
"Dispatching them now, sir."
"Thanks," he said hastily, ending the call as his screen showed Steve trying to reach him. "I was just about to call you," Brett said urgently. "Something exploded and started a fire on the ridge across from us. Did you hear it?"
"I heard it. So did the horses. I'm settling them now, but Brett, stay calm. The wind has shifted. It's blowing West, away from us."
"It is? Thank God. I've called 911 and now I'm gonna call the sheriff."
"Brett, take a breath. We will be fine. The wind has become our friend tonight."
"Right, blowin' away," Brett mumbled with a grateful sigh.
"I must stay with the animals, but I'm here if you need me."
"Thank you."
"What the hell could that have been?" Amber asked,
appearing beside him. "A downed power line?"
"They don't explode like that," he replied, searching for the sheriff's number. "Damn thing sounded like a bomb goin' off."
"I'm scared. Should we leave? What about the horses?"
"It's okay, darlin'. Steve just told me the wind is blowin' away from here. Sheriff? Sorry to wake you. There's been an explosion up here."
"What? Did you say an explosion?" the sheriff asked, his voice husky from sleep. "Where?"
"On the Eastern side of the canyon. It started a fire. I called 911 and the trucks are on their way."
"Thanks for lettin' me know. Don't hesitate to evacuate, and if you need anything get back in touch."
"Thanks, sheriff. I think we're okay, but we'll move if we have to."
"I wonder what it was," Amber murmured, walking closer to the window to peer at the large splash of orange against the black hill.
"I dunno, darlin'. Oh, shit!"
"What?"
"That damn photographer! Steve found cigarette butts on the ground where he'd been takin' pictures."
"Why would he go up there on a night like this? That's crazy? And even if he did, how would he have caused an explosion?"
"I'm dunno," Brett said slowly. "If he dropped a butt on the ground and didn't stomp it out, in these dry, windy conditions, it would have been enough to start a fire. Maybe he ran to his car, but the fire caught up to him before he could drive away."
"No! You think?"
"It's only a theory, but it makes sense."
"Shit."
"We'll know soon enough, but we can count our blessin's. Not only is the wind takin' the flames away from us and the other houses around here, it should die out by mornin'."
"How do you know?"
"Steve told me earlier today. I thought I mentioned it."
"You probably did. I'm just a bit freaked out right now."
"Hey, come here," he said, pulling her into his arms. "We're good. This won't affect us."
"Thank God," she murmured, melting into him. "This is unbelievable."
"We won't be goin' back to sleep, that's for sure. How about we make some coffee? We don't have to go downstairs. I have what we need in my den."
"Will you put some scotch in mine please? My heart is still racing."
"Mine too. Good suggestion. I'm gonna join you."
"I wonder if you're right. I wonder if that was Andrew's car blowing up."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Throughout the night the fearless firefighters battled the blaze. Thanks to the quick alert they were able to contain the flames and catch the hot spots sparked by flying embers. Curled up on the couch in front of the window, Amber and Brett watched the distant drama, but Amber fell asleep and eventually Brett dozed off. When they were stirred awake by the light of the rising sun, the winds had dramatically decreased, and imitating fog, the smoke hung over the hill.
"Is it over?" Amber mumbled, sitting up and staring across the canyon.
"Looks like it."
"Thank God. What time is it?"
"I'm guessin' around six or so."
"Ooh, too early."
"Why don't you go back to bed?"
"Will you come with me?"
"Nothin' I'd like better, but I'm gonna call the sheriff and get an update. Hopefully he'll know what caused that explosion. Then I need to run down and see Steve."
"I'll get up too."
"There's no need."
"I want to. I'm just as curious as you are," she said, standing up with him and stretching her arms above her head. "Besides, I'm wide awake now. I'm going to jump in the shower," she said, giving him a quick hug. "I won't be long."
As she padded away and disappeared into the bathroom, Brett walked to the nightstand, picked up his phone and placed a call to the sheriff.
"Good morning, Brett, how was your night?" the sheriff asked. "Everything okay there?"
"Mornin', Ed," Brett replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Sorry to call so early, but I figured you'd be up."
"It's been a busy night."
"I fell asleep watchin' the fire from my window. Looks like the firefighters have it beaten."
"They had a rough time of it with that gale, but they're an amazing group of men. They got the jump on it thanks to you."
"Any ideas about the cause of the explosion?"
"The fire chief told me they found a burned out Hummer on the firebreak. It appears the culprit was your blackmailer. They found burned up camera equipment inside. Barely recognizable, but the metal parts were still in intact."
"I was thinkin' it might have been him. My barn manager found cigarette butts up there."
"We have to confirm the information, but I can't think of anyone else being stupid enough to drive up there last night. The paparazzi are a crazy bunch."
"Ed, what about him?"
"No body in the car, but there's a large area to search. They'll probably find his remains. He couldn't have survived that inferno."
"Thanks for the update, Ed. I appreciate you takin' my call."
"Any time. I'm still planning to come up there around ten, if that's okay. Regardless of what happened, I need to take a statement and get the report filed."
"Sure. Ten o'clock is fine. I'll see you then."
Ending the call, Brett pondered the alarming information. Andrew Stern had been killed by wind-swept flames. Winds that had threatened to march the fire down the canyon, but had made a sudden u-turn.
"What's the news?" Amber asked, walking towards him looking sexy as hell in painted-on white jeans and a pink T-shirt.
"Prepare yourself," Brett warned. "They found a burned up Hummer with destroyed camera equipment inside."
"Shit. What about Andrew?"
"No body, but the sheriff is pretty sure it's just a matter of time."
"Oh, my gosh. This is so weird."
"Yep, pretty crazy," he said solemnly. "Strange though."
"What is?"
"The wind. How it changed direction. It was blowin' East to West, then abruptly swung around, but I guess it happens."
"I've always found weather mysterious."
"Like you," he remarked, wrapping his arms around her. "You think you could rustle up some breakfast while I get myself together?"
"Sure, but I thought you wanted to see Steve."
"I do, but I wanna invite him to join us. Do you mind?"
"Of course not. I'll scramble some eggs and fry up some bacon."
"Sounds perfect, but before you go, how's your butt feelin'?"
"Exactly as you would expect," she said softly, a warm blush moving over her cheeks. "I'll go downstairs and get things started."
"Thanks, Sassy Lassy."
"Anytime BD."
* * * * * * * * * *
Battered and bruised, his lungs hurting, his swollen hands immovable and throbbing, Andrew stared across the canyon at Brett Preston's compound. The horrors of the night had left him shaken beyond measure, and how he'd escaped without being burned to a crisp he put down to divine intervention. How long he'd been fighting for his life dodging the fierce flames in the dense woods he had no clue, but he was sure it must have been hours. Lifting his eyes to the charred brush above him, he shuddered at the thought of how close he'd come to being burned alive. The acrid taste still filled his mouth, and the pain in his chest almost equaled that of his hands. Every breath hurt.
After tossing the cigarette from the car, he'd driven up to the area where he could turn around, but as he'd started back down he'd found the hillside ablaze. Driven by the raging winds, the flames raced towards him, and filled with terror he'd screeched to a stop. Fighting the wind, he'd barely managed to push open the door, and hurling himself to the ground, he'd tumbled down the brush covered slope. Scrambling to his feet, as he'd dashed down the hill he'd heard the explosion behind him. Looking over his shoulder he'd seen the fireball rise in the air like a flaming monster, but with the winds blowing around him, terrified the blaze woul
d be on top of him at any second, he'd kept running frantically down the steep slope.
Then the fire trucks had arrived.
Initially he'd been thrilled at the thought of rescue, but his joy had been fleeting.
He'd be charged with arson and thrown behind bars.
He couldn't let that happen.
He needed time to reach Robert.
His lawyers would save him.
But with the firemen moving through the woods his flight had become even more precarious.
As the blaze had consumed the foliage above him, and the burly men in their gear everywhere he'd turned, he'd finally stumbled across a cleared trail that veered off and appeared to lead toward Brett Preston's estate. Knowing how forest fires devoured everything in their path, and having no idea of its direction, he'd continued to stagger along the path until he'd collapsed. With not an ounce of strength remaining and in abject pain, he'd passed out.
Sunrise had brought him awake.
Surrounded by an eerie silence, the brush fire no longer threatened.
"I need more rest," he murmured, staring up at the smoky sky, and crawling off the trail, he leaned against a tree and closed his eyes.
* * * * * * * * * *
Initially the breakfast had been awkward, but when Amber began asking Steve about the totem pole and the meanings of the various carvings, the energy changed. The usually reserved man earnestly answered her questions. They were making the effort for him. Humbled and touched, he wanted to hug them both.
"You say they're usually commemorative or tell a story," Amber remarked, "but can they offer insight? The one in the garden seems mystical to me. I don't know why, but if they're supposed to hold any kind of power, I think that one does."
"Why do you say that?" Steve asked, leaning slightly forward in his chair.
"When I was upset I wrapped my arms around the owl and I swear I heard a voice."
To Con A Cowboy (Hunks and Horses Book 3) Page 13