by A. O. Peart
It sure was. Every time I went hiking near the Devil’s Lake, I felt as if seeing the beauty of this place from a new, never-before-discovered angle.
We continued on, when Lisbeth slipped on a patch of mud, hidden under a layer of leaves. She squealed as she started to fall, arms flailing. I tried to grasp her quickly around her waist, but she slid down and my hands closed over her breasts. Fuck, just what I needed to keep myself in check. But at least I saved her from falling.
I moved my hands away in a hurry, as if she burned me. In a sense, she did. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. Are you okay?”
Mortified, she kept her eyes cast down. She gulped and said, “Uoh, that was close. Thanks for catching me. How embarrassing.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” I playfully nudged her, hoping to lighten the mood. But damn, she had some nice, full breasts. One more thing to keep me up at night, I though, not at all upset about it. “Next time warn me, so I can be prepared.”
“Smart ass,” she murmured quietly, but I heard it nevertheless. She walked faster ahead of me.
Naturally, my eyes immediately slid to her butt. In my defense, I was a guy. God, I wanted to spank that butt so badly. My riding crop came to mind again. She would love it, or I would teach her to do so.
With a great level of difficulty, I wrestled my mind away from these naughty thoughts. I caught up with Lisbeth and glanced at her. A tiny smile danced on her lips. She noticed me looking and bit on her lower lip. I wondered what she was thinking of.
Chapter Eighteen
LISBETH
I was mortified. And mad at myself too! How could I be so clumsy? Like some helpless damsel in distress. Ugh, I was sure Ethan thought about me just that. Great. On the other hand, why was I so obsessed with what his opinion of me was? I didn’t try to make an impression. I only needed to remain calm and focused. But that wasn’t happening. Calm—maybe, at least more than I was yesterday, but focused? Not so much.
There was also that nagging feeling that I couldn’t shake off. Sure, Ethan was really good looking, but that’s not what caused it. From the very moment we met, he emanated some strange energy that made my heart beat faster. I recalled how I wanted to stay close to him after climbing out from the panic room, because he made me feel safe. How impossibly weird was that? I didn’t know anything about him then, but despite of that I immediately found solace in him.
And then, there was the kiss… it wasn’t a real kiss. Ethan only did that to keep our cover. Now, thinking about the reason for that fake kiss made me strangely sad and disappointed. I shouldn’t have felt that way. I simply shouldn’t. His arms around me and his hands on my breasts didn’t help it either. Of course that incident was purely accidental. I knew he didn’t grab my boobs on purpose. That didn’t seem like Ethan. He just reacted to me losing my balance, and my breasts kind of got in the way.
I shifted my attention to the surroundings. The hike was wonderful. I adored the view of the Lake, the purity of the air, and the serenity of the woods. I had to admit—this was precisely what I needed in order to clear my head and relax. It was working wonders. So far, Ethan always knew what would be the best for me. That was weird of course, since he hardly knew me.
“Ethan,” I started.
“Mhm?” He appeared deep in thought.
“Thank you.”
He looked at me as if awoken from a dream, blinked, and frowned. “What are you thanking me for?”
“For this.” I swept my arm around, indicating the area. “This makes me happy. I feel more relaxed; mentally refreshed.”
Ethan smiled. “I know that feeling. And I’m glad you enjoy being here. Now watch out.” He pointed to a huge, fallen tree, blocking the path.
He jumped on top of it and extended his hand to me. I accepted it without hesitation. He helped me climb the trunk, his fingers clasping mine.
“It might be a bit slippery down there, so careful.” Ethan indicated the damp soil by the collapsed tree.
That little rasp in his voice was distracting. It stirred something in me. Again. Something I shouldn’t have felt now. And his touch—his large, long-fingered hand, grasping mine. He emanated some raw power and decisiveness. This was too much to handle, too confusing. Maybe it was just me? No doubt I was confused and weirded out by all that had happened recently in my life. How could I even think straight anymore?
With a long breath, I concentrated on stepping down from the log. I didn’t want to think about that soothing warmth surging from Ethan’s skin into mine. As soon as I was back on the ground, I pulled my hand back and put both of my hands in my pockets. I looked up at the blue sky visible between the treetops. A few white wisps of clouds were stretched over our heads. They were slowly shifting and reshaping, some of them breaking into smaller pieces.
A distant, sweet memory resurfaced: ten-year-old me, lying in a warm grass, watching similar, wispy clouds constantly change shapes. There was a rabbit, a boulder, a flower, or a jumping cow. I recalled how happy that made me, but now I knew it was only because my imagination took me away from reality of my sad, lonely childhood. Nevertheless, watching the clouds slow-dancing in the sky above me brought those beautiful memories back. And I was thankful for remembering them.
I wanted to feel this enjoyment of freedom and simple pleasure forever. All the worries that bogged me practically every moment of each day have suddenly disappeared. It was as if some distant door opened at the end of a long, dark tunnel, and I was instantly transported into a happy place; as if I stepped over a threshold and onto the sun-filled spot that emanated such positive and soothing energy.
My eyes still closed, I breathed the air fragrant with a tree sap and damp moss, my face upturned to the sky, the sun rays warming my skin. This was what I needed—a moment of a complete quiet, the worry-free feeling that finally uplifted my spirit. A distraction.
I don’t know how long I stood like this, but when I looked around, Ethan was sitting on the log a few feet away, watching me with the tiniest smile on his lips. Did he understand what I was feeling? And just like that, for a flitting moment I believed that we actually gazed into each other’s souls.
He slowly stood up, his eyes locked with mine. Taking a few slow steps, he came very close to me. There was something predatory in his stride, but that didn’t frighten me. Instead, it made me long for his touch. I didn’t move. Ethan’s hands gently ran over my arms. His smile disappeared, and his handsome, masculine features rearranged into an intense, possessive look.
This alone—his expression and his caress—left me breathless, my heart pumping. I froze in anticipation. My lips parted. His right hand came to the back of my neck. His fingers wrapped in my hair, gently tugging my head back until my face upturned toward his. His other hand pressed on the small of my back, bringing our bodies dangerously close.
He kissed me, and I truly welcomed that kiss. No, I actually embraced it.
At first, it was tender, as if he wasn’t sure how I would respond. When I didn’t pull back, his lips skillfully explored mine. His tongue darted from between them, teasing me, testing my reaction. I parted my lips and let him in. He took my mouth with such hunger as if he wanted to kiss me forever.
His sharp intake of breath, send a wave of hot desire through me. I’ve never been kissed like this—so tenderly but intensely and adeptly at the same time. He tasted of mint toothpaste and smelled of a delicious mixture of soap, something musky, and something very male.
I moaned into his mouth. He inhaled again, and his tongue licked deep inside my mouth, sliding over mine, possessing me. This was the sweetest torment I’ve ever experienced. I was lost in this kiss; I was lost in this moment. The feel of serenity and peace I felt just seconds earlier was quickly replaced by the sexual tension; by the pure, shameless desire.
Ethan pulled away, panting slightly, his expression laced with longing and pain. It sobered me in an instant, and I stepped away from him. I hung my head, taking deep, calm
ing breaths. This wasn’t the way. This shouldn’t have happened.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve never done that. It won’t happen again.”
I looked at him. “It’s not entirely your fault. I wasn’t exactly fighting you off.”
He clenched his jaw and walked away. I touched my lips, swollen from his amazingly devouring mouth. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him, and that he wanted me too.
Oh, that immediately complicated my situation… our situation. Why did I let myself get lost in him? How could I forget the reason I was here with Ethan? Stupid, stupid, stupid me. I was mortified and mad with myself. And now what? Staying with Ethan in the cabin was going to be, mildly speaking, awkward.
I slowly walked after him, unsure what to do, what to say. Anything? Finally, I decided to remain quiet and wait for him to address the issue. We both needed time to cool off and think things through, so I just kept a few steps behind him, giving him and myself room to contemplate.
We walked like that for a while—him, with his head bent down, hands tightened into fists at his side, and me—biting my lip and trying to keep at bay the roaring confusion that fed of the mayhem charging through my mind. At least, a panic attack wasn’t raising its ugly head. For that alone, I was thankful.
I heard a gentle whisper of cascading water. Lifting my gaze, I tried to locate the place where that soothing sound was coming from. Ahead of us, to the left, was a small waterfall, surrounded by greenery. It came down over a slick, red-brown wall of rock and into a small basin of water. I smiled.
Ethan stopped at the waterfall and stood, watching it with his hands deep in his pockets. I halted a few feet from him, stealing glances at his face. We remained silent for several minutes, each of us deep in thought.
“It was entirely my fault,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell came over me.”
“No, it wasn’t just your fault. I didn’t object either.”
He looked at me. His eyes were sad, defeated somehow.
“Look.” I exhaled with force. “We are both under a lot of stress. Nobody knows if this plan will work, and if not, what may possibly happen. But I need you also to understand something—I am immensely grateful for your help. And this,” I motioned between us, “whatever it was—a brief insanity, or the wild, uncontrollable hormones…” I slowly shrugged my shoulders. “Let’s just try to forget it.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched, his brows pinched closely together. Without looking at me, he nodded slowly, but I wasn’t sure he really agreed. No, he didn’t—there was too much guilt in his expression.
I wanted to do something to save us both from the gloomy aftermath of our short-lived pleasure. But that was easier said than done. First, I stretched my arms to the sides and moved my head from left to right, loosening the tensing muscles. Then I closed my eyes, and listened to the whispering waterfall. “Close your eyes,” I said softly.
“What?”
“Just trust me, Ethan. Relax your body and close your eyes.”
I didn’t know if he did, but he was quiet. The soothing hiss of falling water and the sweet songs of birds in the nearby woods chased my heavy mood away. I let myself feel—actually feel, not just hear—all these wonderful sounds. They seeped into my soul, blocking the darkness, the pain, and terrifying memories.
A few long moments later, I peeked at him. He was still standing in the same spot as before. But now his eyes were closed, his face slightly elevated, and his hands weren’t tightened into fists anymore. That was a progress. I returned to my own relaxation mode, taking slow, deep breaths.
I felt a refreshing, tender breeze on my face. The tiniest of winds seemed to swirl around us, as if trying to bring us back to reality. I smiled, imaging just that—a mystical, ghostly-like being, weaving its airy body around us, and whispering softly “Wake up, wake up, it’s time to go.”
First, I cracked one eye open, but couldn’t see Ethan. So I opened both eyes wider. He stood next to me with his arms crossed over his sculpted chest, staring into the distance. He realized I was watching him and turned his face toward me. There was no smile, no encouragement, nothing. Just an impassive stare.
I chanced to look into his eyes. Why was there so much sadness; anguish even? But something else tried to emerge—a curiosity? No, it was more as if he was amazed. I wished I could understand him. I had no doubt anymore that Ethan McCoy was a man of many values. And he was an enigma.
Chapter Nineteen
ETHAN
What the hell just happened? How could I lose my control so easily? That has never happened to me before. Never! I could have any woman I laid my eyes on. They always came to me, and I never felt guilty about it. But I pledged not to touch Lisbeth. She wasn’t here for the reasons any other woman would be. I promised her protection, and so I should’ve treated her as I did my female cousins: like a big brother, watching over her, guarding her, not trying to get in her pants.
I was very angry with myself. But that wasn’t all. I was freakin’ embarrassed. That alone was an unfamiliar emotion for me. Awkwardness had no place in my life. I lived the way I wanted to live, but I also never did anything that should warrant such feeling. I was a strategist, not a reckless, immature idiot. I never… never let myself to dive head first into something without being ready and prepared.
Was I ready and prepared for this? Hell no. Because there has never been a plan to seduce Lisbeth. That kiss came from nowhere. It confused me, disarmed me, and left me exasperated.
I could only blame myself, since she did nothing to provoke me. At least, not like any other woman would. If she did, I was convinced it was completely unintended.
I walked away to clear my head, but also to keep a distance from Lisbeth. I needed to cool off, to get my bearings back. This was bad—I knew how to be in control, not how to deal with losing it.
The waterfall was straight ahead. I wandered up to it and paused, concentrating on its calming sound. Lisbeth was a few feet away from me, silent. We stood like this, both awkward, lost in our own thoughts. I realized that my anger was gone, replaced by resignation and disappointment. What was I disappointed about, or, rather, who? Myself? Her? Both of us?
I didn’t need to analyze any of these answers. They didn’t matter. I had to take the responsibility of what just happened between us. There was no way I would try to blame her. So I apologized, but she declined accepting my fault. I didn’t object, is what she said. No, she didn’t object, but I knew why—no woman has ever refused me. I was their drug or their solace. I always took what I wanted, and they gave it to me freely.
She tried to ease down my guilt, and I appreciated her efforts. It wasn’t working though, even when she said that this was just a brief insanity, or the wild, uncontrollable hormones. Maybe she was right? Maybe the impending threat of the gang finding her was messing with my head? Whatever was to blame, I wasn’t going to let anything between us happen again.
Then she told me to close my eyes and relax. Confused, I did as she requested. It was weird. My hearing seemed to sharpen as soon as I shut my eyes. That in turn, let me give in to only concentrating on the nature’s orchestra and on what I felt. There was the water rushing down the rocky wall, the birds singing in the distance, the rustling of the leaves, and the gentle breeze on my skin.
How long did we stand like this? Maybe a minute, maybe much longer. I slowly opened my eyes and realized that everything around me shared one important quality—the serenity. That alone made me calmer, numb even. Yes, numb. It was better that way.
“Let’s head back,” I said.
She nodded slowly and turned around. We walked unhurriedly, without exchanging words, only looking around, as if not acknowledging one another’s company.
Lisbeth stopped in front of a large oak tree. She put her hands on its thick trunk and lifted her head, looking toward the top of it. She whispered something very quietly, but I didn’t catch the meaning. It wasn’t intended fo
r me to hear anyway.
I stuffed my hands in my pants pockets and leaned against another thick tree, watching her. Its rough bark prodded at me through my shirt, but such discomfort was diminutive in comparison to how I felt inside.
Lisbeth stepped closer to the large oak and embraced it as if it was a person. Her eyes closed when she said to me, “The trees, especially the old ones, emanate a strong energy; a very positive, clean energy. It comes straight from the Earth; it circulates within all the pure creatures of this world, and then it goes back. Millions of years… just imagine…”
I wasn’t a tree hugger. I wasn’t a believer in some mystical ways of this world. Facts and reality spoke to me. The idealistic way of thinking was better left to the others. Somehow though, coming from Lisbeth that statement wasn’t making me roll my eyes or shake my head in annoyance. It almost made me smile. Or maybe it was the look on her face—so peaceful and free from worries.
“Lisbeth,” I said quietly.
“Uhm?” She didn’t open her eyes, still snuggled onto the tree, still embraced in whatever energy she admitted feeling go through her. She was beautiful, standing like that with a dreamy, calm look on her face.
I scolded myself again and took two water bottles from my knapsack. “Lisbeth,” I repeated.
She finally looked at me as if she woke up from a deep sleep. When she saw the water bottle, a small sigh escaped her. She walked toward me and took the bottle in her hand. We both drank in silence, quenching the thirst and suppressing uneasiness; or at least I was.
“Ready to head back?” I asked.
“Yeah. I would like to sit by the water when we return.”
I nodded. As long as she stayed where I could see her, it was fine. Protecting her didn’t mean keeping her prisoner inside the cabin.