by Hazel Hunter
“It’s perfectly normal,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “You’re scared because it’s a scary situation.”
And as simply as that, he put words to what she’d been thinking. The wolf was only the last straw and he understood that. She smiled a little. Of course he understands. This is Logan. I don’t have to explain what I’m feeling.
As she looked up into his face, she realized how close it was. She remembered how close she’d been when they’d woken up. He hadn’t said a thing about that. But now, she saw his eyes drift down to her lips.
Her eyes widened at the intensity of his gaze and, as understanding dawned, her breath caught.
Logan wasn’t just her best friend, he was a man. And she’d put herself into close proximity–very close proximity.
On purpose?
His eyes held the same question.
• • • • •
Logan knew that kissing Jules would not be right. To kiss her now would be taking advantage–of the situation, of her state, both physical and emotional. But as he felt her arms clutching him and her body pressed against his, doing what was right was rapidly fading into the background.
The mist of their breath in the chill morning air mixed between them. Her lips were bare inches from his own. What began as a need to protect her was escalating into something more primal, deep inside–something wild.
“Jules,” he whispered.
As he slowly drew her closer, he waited for the moment she would pull away. But as he lowered his face to hers, she didn’t let go. Instead, he became aware of her hands gripping the leather jacket at his back. Her lips slowly parted and, as her eyes closed, his mouth was suddenly on hers.
With more force than he’d intended, his lips pressed against the incredible softness of hers. Though he’d kept himself from ever thinking about this moment, now he knew he could never have predicted it.
Her lips were velvety.
Delicate and plump, they gave in to his so easily he almost thought they weren’t touching–but they were.
His arms quickly encircled her tiny waist and pulled her close. She gasped a little as he jerked her against him and again he knew he was moving too fast, but the knowledge didn’t help. The gasp had parted her lips even more and as he tilted his head the other way, his mouth covered hers. Any moment now, she would stop him. It was too much, too soon. He needed to slow down. But to his amazement, she opened her mouth and her fingers ran into the hair at the base of his neck.
His tongue immediately pressed into hers. The warm air from her nose washed down over his chin as her chest began to heave. Her fingers kneaded into the muscles of his neck, his shoulders. Even through the layers of clothes, there was an urgency there that drove him further into her mouth. Her lips responded to his with their own need and the thought of her body melding with his suddenly flashed into his mind. His arousal suddenly pulsed between them. There was only one way this could end.
• • • • •
Without warning, Jules felt Logan pull back.
Her eyes fluttered open as she gasped for air. His arms still encircled her and her hands were behind his neck but he’d broken the kiss.
“Jules,” he said, his voice thick.
Her eyes found his staring into hers. A silent ‘what’ formed on her lips as she tried to catch her breath. The feel of his lips on hers had rapidly spiraled from surprise to a consuming need. Although her own reaction had shocked her, it was Logan’s hesitation that took her aback.
“This isn’t right,” he said, lowly. “You’re not ready.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide, and finally found her voice.
“I don’t understand,” she said, confused. “Me?”
“You’re on the rebound,” he said, breathing hard. “It’s not right.”
She heard his words and shook her head again, still not able to understand. On the rebound? Is he having second thoughts? She froze.
“If you don’t want…this,” she said, “then–”
“I want this,” he whispered hoarsely.
His mouth covered hers, ending more words. But the disquiet they’d created didn’t fade as quickly. Am I on the rebound? But as his tongue danced with hers, she found she didn’t care. Let me be on the rebound. And let Logan catch me. Let–
His arousal pressed into her.
Though Logan’s mouth muffled her tiny whimper, he must have felt the sudden quiver that ran through her. In one smooth movement, he bent low, picked her up, and carried her to the lean-to. The thermal blankets crinkled below her as he set her down. She sat up and had been about to unzip her jacket, when he took off his and pulled his polo shirt over his head.
As he knelt next to her, she couldn’t help but gape. Though she’d seen her share of naked bodies, none of them had been like his. Logan was as chiseled as any statue. The round, broad shoulders, topped an equally round and broad set of pectoral muscles. They were huge and deeply curved, shadowing the rippled abdomen below. He didn’t just work out–he sculpted his body. The flared oblique muscles at his sides tapered down to his narrow hips. Each and every sinew stood out in relief. Anatomy class had never been like this.
As his hands went to the zipper of her jacket, she realized she hadn’t moved since he’d taken off his shirt. She watched as his biceps bunched and his pectorals rose and fell. She felt the jacket slip from her shoulders and arms and then the white shirt followed. As he undid the button of her slacks, her hands tentatively moved to his chest. He froze as her fingers explored him with the same wonder her eyes had. His skin was taut but smooth. She let her fingers glide over it, sliding up his chest and then riding over his shoulders. As though he’d woken, he unzipped her slacks and moved over her, easing her onto her back. As he settled down at her side and leaned in, she thought he was going to kiss her. But his face slowly passed hers and his lips grazed her jaw.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her neck, as he took a gentle bite.
Her hands moved eagerly over the rigid muscles of his arms. His tongue traced a line to the dip between her collar bones. Her fingers raked across his powerful back as he slid his body lower. Even as he cupped her through the sheer bra, his mouth nibbled its way to the same breast. He gently squeezed and sucked at the same time.
As she gasped, her back arched in response.
He was impossibly tender and yet her skin seemed on fire. No matter what he did, her body couldn’t help but respond. As though he sensed it, he quickly gnawed at the skin between her breasts. Her fingers dug into his hair as he slid lower, racing his tongue over her belly. His arm went under her, lifting her hips even higher, pulling her abdomen to his face as he kissed it.
Her breath came in deep rasps as tension coiled tighter with each press of his mouth. His tongue covered her, working lower, as a shiver of anticipation raced through her. Finally, his mouth was at the edge of her panties and her hips pushed higher in response. As his tongue pressed past the thin band, she moaned.
MOUNTAIN WILDS
An Erotic Expedition Novella
PART 2
By Hazel Hunter
CHAPTER FOUR
“Get up!” Seth yelled as he threw open the door to Frank’s room. “Get up, you fat slug!”
As the door banged against the thin wall, Frank sat up on his cot.
“What?” he whined and then immediately began coughing.
Seth’s hands balled into fists at his sides. The damn coughing. It’d kept him up all night and now they’d slept too late.
“It’s been light outside for an hour already,” Seth said, loudly over the hacking.
Frank swung his big legs over the edge of the narrow cot and spit into the trash can. His hair was a mess, he’d slept in his clothes, and his beard was dirty. Typical.
Seth turned away and stalked to the main room of the cabin. He glanced at the wood burning stove but ignored it. They didn’t have time for that. Instead, he went to the wall where the guns hung and took do
wn his revolver.
Holed up in the mountain wilderness of British Columbia, they’d never had to use their weapons for anything except shooting cans. The location of their pot growing operation was well hidden and remote. But, according to the Piper pilot who’d radioed last night, that might have changed.
Seth checked the rounds in the pistol and heard Frank’s lumbering steps on the floorboards behind him.
“What’s the hurry?” Frank grumbled.
“Millions of dollars of BC bud,” Seth sneered. “Or has all the smoking made you forget?”
Yesterday’s storm had kept them from checking the airstrip but today was clear. They’d also need to check the grow barns and the hydroelectric equipment on their way to the grass field. The dirt road would be muddy but drivable.
“Bring the Winchester,” Seth said, as he grabbed the Remington shotgun.
“What about coffee?” Frank said, as he took down the rifle. “And I’m hungry.”
Seth clenched his jaw. He’d prefer to leave Frank and go by himself but the slug had to pull his weight.
“Shut up,” Seth ground out. “And get in the truck.”
• • • • •
Months of being with pilot Logan Sanders had not prepared Jules for this moment. They had traveled together and worked side by side as her medical practice took her from one remote area of British Columbia to another. His boyish good looks had not gone unnoticed, nor the effect he had on women. But it had taken a plane crash to finally bring them together.
Dimly aware of the wool blanket beneath her, the lean-to above her, and the fire crackling a few feet away, the only sensation that mattered was Logan’s lips on her skin.
“Jules,” he murmured, between the light gnawing bites that ran along the top of her panties.
Her jacket and blouse were long gone but the minute that Logan had removed his shirt, she’d needed to touch him, stroke his skin and knead the hard muscles just beneath it. He’d responded with a long trail of kisses that had swept from her neck down past her navel.
Now, as he said her name, his deep voice rumbled into her as her back arched even higher. His enormous arm curled under her hips, lifting them to his mouth, and the wild coiling of anticipation there wound impossibly tight. She moaned with the intensity of it as her fingers dug into the thick hair at the back of his head. Every sensation of him seemed to register in that coil, winding tighter just below his insistent mouth. His massive torso pressed into her thighs. His arm captured her hips. His mouth owned her very skin.
Then, his fingers tugged at the slacks she still wore, sliding them lower, along with her panties. The stubble of his chin brushed toward her mound but then he stopped.
Was it second thoughts again?
She opened her eyes and looked down at him.
“Do I need a condom?” he asked, his fevered eyes staring hard into hers.
She blinked at him, almost not comprehending, and then realization dawned. She’d been about to have unprotected sex.
What am I doing?
Her mind flashed on the way she’d pictured his body when they were in the plane–when he’d said he wanted kids. She stared at his face and that gorgeous body now. Is that what I’m trying to do? Have kids? Her mouth dropped open a little. Is that why I brought it up? Is that why I slept next to him?
“Jules?” Logan said quietly, coming up on his elbows.
She blinked again, suddenly unsure of herself.
“Logan, I…” she said, her voice faltering.
She took a deep breath and slowly shook her head.
“Jules,” he whispered, as he got to his hands and knees. In moments he was at her side, propped on one elbow, his hand on the side of her face. “I thought you wanted this.”
His eyebrows drew together as he looked into her eyes.
“I…” she started but it felt like her heart was in her throat.
“It’s okay,” Logan said, lowly. “We don’t have to–”
“No that’s not it,” she blurted out. “I do want this. It’s just that…I think I’ve wanted it for a long time but I didn’t know.”
She searched his face for understanding and, as she watched, a smile eventually curled up one corner of his mouth.
“I want you,” he said, as his hand slipped to the nape of her neck. “Except I did know.”
“You–?” she started but then he leaned down and kissed her.
Tenderly, his lips silenced hers. She closed her eyes to their warm pressure but the shock of her realization remained. She felt his fingers gently slide along her neck. His mouth softly caressed hers, moving slowly. Unlike the burning urgency of before, his kiss was sweet–Logan was sweet. And he wanted her.
Her hand found the side of his face and, as she tilted her head the other way, she finally kissed him back. Her lips merged with his, reacting to every movement. Her heart pounded in her chest. His mouth worked faster, anticipating hers, deepening the kiss as she dragged in air through her nostrils. He captured her lower lip as she captured his upper. Then the positions reversed.
But when she wound her arms around his back, it was as though a dam had broken. All at once, his tongue was in her mouth, his chest pressed into her breasts, and his arousal pushed into her abdomen. The coil of tension that had built there earlier returned with a vengeance. As an aching need flared to life in her hips, they pushed back against him. Though they still wore their pants, she instinctively spread her legs as warmth flooded through her. His mouth released hers and he quickly settled himself between her knees. Then, without warning, his bulging arousal found her sweet spot.
Her back arched at the immediate pulsing in her groin and she moaned. As Logan supported himself on his elbows, she felt his breath coursing down her even as his hips met hers. She moaned again and her hips ground into him as she clutched his back.
She did want this–want him–and her body wanted his badly. But not like this.
“Condoms,” she panted, “in my doctor’s bag.”
As though it’d taken a few seconds for the words to penetrate, she felt his movements slow and finally stop. Then, she felt his weight leave her and she opened her eyes to see him at the bag.
“Side pocket,” she breathed.
With fascination, she watched the rippling of the muscles in his arms and sides as he quickly retrieved one of the foil packets but, as he turned back to her, he froze. Then his head whipped around toward the airstrip.
“Do you hear that?” he whispered.
Hear what?
Still breathing fast, she looked toward the plane. It rested at the edge of a grassy clearing, looking as though it might have landed–except for the shredded tires. The plane couldn’t be making any noise.
Then she heard it–an engine sound.
“Search and rescue?” she gasped as she reached for her blouse.
“It’s a car,” he said, as he leapt to his feet.
“That was quick!” she exclaimed.
Just as Logan had predicted, the clear weather and emergency locator transmitter had brought search and rescue.
“I don’t think so,” Logan said.
“What?”
She stopped buttoning her blouse and looked in the direction of the sound.
“Get dressed,” he said, as he threw on his polo shirt and jacket. He grabbed the axe, snapped the plastic cover in place, and tucked it into his belt.
Something was wrong. How did he know it wasn’t search and rescue? Logan went to the fire and kicked dirt onto it. In moments, it was out.
“We’ve got to hide,” he said, coming back to help her get up.
“Hide?” she said, as he tugged her after him. “From who?”
“Whoever is in that car,” he said.
• • • • •
“Well I’ll be damned,” Seth muttered.
A plane.
Frank stopped fiddling with the butterfly knife and even the coughing subsided for a few seconds.
“Keep an e
ye out,” Seth said as he angled the truck across the wet field.
“For…?” Frank started and then he started to cough again. He had to finish with a nod.
“For anything or anybody,” Seth answered.
In the three years he and his brother had been growing pot in this remote location, this was the first time anybody had come this close. Aside from their own pilot, that is. Only one more harvest and they’d be out of the freaking wilderness for good.
And now this.
“Damn,” he muttered.
He put the truck into its lowest gear and approached slowly. As they neared, he decided to circle it.
“Look at that,” he said. “The tires are blown.”
He swiveled his head to look in all directions. Unless there were bodies inside he couldn’t see, there were survivors. His hand went to the revolver on the bench seat next to him. All around was thick forest. Someone might be twenty yards away and impossible to see. First things, first.
“If we’re lucky,” Seth said, “there’ll be bodies inside.” He pulled the truck up in front of the propeller, set the brake, and killed the engine. He took one more look around the strip. “Let’s go.”
• • • • •
The man in the passenger seat–the one who wore a cap and was coughing–he was clearly carrying a rifle.
Dammit, Logan thought.
“Oh my god,” Jules whispered.
They’d gotten as far into the trees as they could and still see the vehicle, a truck as it turned out. Unfortunately, that made sense. A truck would come in handy when it came time to load the planes.
Logan stared at the man with the rifle as he got out of the truck. In the silence of the mountains, his deep cough was clearly audible.