Fueling His Hunger

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Fueling His Hunger Page 13

by Sparrow Beckett


  He followed her gaze where the trail cut across the mountainside. Sure enough, several white blobs moved in a line toward them. He searched his brain for an answer.

  “Goats!” she cried, clapping her hands. “They’re mountain goats.” Turning to grin at him, she added, “Our first wildlife encounter!”

  He wouldn’t exactly call this an encounter but he nodded along in support.

  “We should pick up some binoculars before we go out again tomorrow.” She resumed the trek and he followed, contemplating her suggestion.

  “You don’t want to head home tomorrow?” he asked, thinking of the messages from his cousins.

  “Already?” She spun on him, brow creased. “One day is too short.”

  “Okay.” It wasn’t exactly a hard sell. He didn’t want to leave yet either.

  “Do you have somewhere you have to be?”

  Fox and Atlas were probably ready to kick his ass, but leaving her here alone went against his nature. He’d volunteered to accompany her and he’d damn well follow through. Not as if it was a chore. In fact, leaving her side tomorrow or the next day or the day after that felt so . . . wrong. A month from now would be too soon. Forever would be too soon.

  Whoa. Slow down.

  The thin air of the mountains was getting to him.

  “You can go,” she said sadly. “You’re not obligated to stay.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist and gazed down at her. “I have no interest in leaving, and it has nothing to do with feeling obligated to stay.” And that was the truth, even if he was shirking his responsibilities. “But, I should probably let my business partners know when I’ll be back. How long are you thinking you want to stay?”

  She shrugged. “A few more days? I . . . have things I need to figure out.” Her lips turned down and her eyes lost their sparkle.

  Way to ruin her fun, idiot.

  Now that he’d brought it up, though, he felt like he couldn’t just leave things that way. “Like what?”

  Wincing, she shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  So she had secrets too. Maybe he should’ve been offended but it only made him more interested. There were layers to this woman. She wasn’t just a pretty face. “Fair enough. But I’m here if you change your mind.” He hoped she would open up to him eventually. He may not have answers, but he was a good listener.

  “Thank you.” She smiled shyly.

  He’d bet it had to do with her dad. The whole trip seemed to center around him. Was she still grieving? She hadn’t even told him how he’d died. A quick Google search would answer that—it was probably all over the media—but he’d let her tell him when she was ready. Snooping around for information she didn’t want to discuss wasn’t his style.

  “Let’s get going,” he said, turning her to face forward. “I don’t want to be on the trail in the dark.”

  “Speed up then, old man,” she said, then skipped ahead before he could smack her ass like he wanted to.

  Just as she rounded a corner, she stopped short.

  “What’s wrong?” He followed her gaze down the trail and spotted what had frozen her in place. A hulking mountain goat less than half a football field away, right on the trail, blocking their path.

  The goat faced them, its horns looking much sharper than they had from farther away. Its body was thick and muscular, like it ate steroids for breakfast.

  Since when did goats get that big? This wasn’t a cute bell-wearing farm goat, that was for sure.

  Ophelia seemed uncertain but he walked in front of her and glanced over his shoulder. “It’ll move when we get closer. They’re more afraid of us than we are of them.”

  She nodded. “O-okay.”

  They started forward, then he heard her stop again, and she grabbed his arm. She backtracked, then pushed him behind the jutted rock that made a corner. She pressed her back up against the cliff.

  When he stared at her dumbfounded, she yanked him back against the rock too. “It saw us,” she hissed.

  He chuckled. “So? It’s just a goat.”

  “There’s a baby there. Animal mothers don’t fuck around!”

  “Neither do human ones,” he muttered, then peered around the corner. “Come on. I’m sure it’ll move off the trail.”

  She shook her head, her face ghost white. “I don’t think so. You didn’t see the look in her eye. She’s not afraid of us. She’s out for blood.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s go.”

  “No.”

  “What do you think it’s gonna do?” He chuckled. “Bite me with its razor sharp fangs? Kick me with its massive hoofs?”

  “Ram you off the cliff!” she retorted.

  He scoffed. “I’m bigger than the goat. It’ll get scared once it sees that.”

  “Go ahead then.” She shrugged. “Let me know when it’s clear.”

  Riding the high that came with protecting her, he marched back around the corner, determined to stare the goat down until it moved. The goat spotted him at once then lowered its head.

  He turned to Ophelia, who was peeking around the corner. “See? It’s already recognizing I’m superior.”

  “Uh-huh. Keep going, George of the Jungle.”

  Feeling a little silly, he tried to make himself look bigger and took a step closer.

  The goat charged. It picked up speed and lowered it’s head so its horns were leveled at Luke’s crotch.

  “Shiiiiit.” He stumbled back around the corner then turned and pushed Ophelia back down trail. “Run!”

  He took a quick glance at the cliffs above the trail and below, but there was nowhere to go that was off of the path. Not without rope and climbing gear. They ran a few paces down the trail before he spun to check behind them.

  No goat. There was a decent-sized boulder just below the trail that pushed out far enough to see around that corner. He jumped down onto it and leaned to check on the goat. It’d given up the chase and now herded its young down the cliff, off of the path.

  He climbed up the loose rock and back onto the trail where Ophelia stood hovering against the cliff, eyes wide. “It’s gone.”

  “You almost got us killed!” She smacked his arm.

  “Nah,” he said, trying to look unruffled, even though he was still breathing hard from the run. “Might’ve just nudged us is all.”

  “Nudged us off the cliff to certain death!”

  He’d be looking for something to fend goats off with later tonight. Maybe a stick would do it. In all his years as a car thief, he’d never had an adrenaline rush quite like being chased down a mountain by a goat.

  After taking a moment to catch his breath, he smiled at Ophelia. The indignant look on her face was adorable.

  “Should we keep going or do you want to go back?”

  “Why would I want to go back?”

  “I thought you might be scared.”

  She sniffed and raised her chin. “I’m not scared. Are you scared?”

  “No.” Not once he found a stick. “It was cute.”

  “Cute?”

  “In fact, I might look into getting one as a pet when we get home.” He winked. “They’re so fluffy.”

  “I saw the look on your face,” Ophelia said, her expression amused. “You were totally scared.”

  “Nope. That’s classic transference. You were scared, so you think I was.”

  She gave him a skeptical look, and he knew he wasn’t fooling her for a second.

  “I’ll lead the way for a while.” It would make him feel better if she was safely behind him, even if he did lose the nice view.

  With a smirk, she replied, “So I get to stare at your ass now?”

  ***

  As soon as Luke and Ophelia returned to her SUV and started the drive
back down the mountains toward the lodge, Luke’s phone started dinging with message alerts. Service cut out about halfway up Going-to-the-Sun road and his cousins had apparently been blowing up his phone with texts throughout the hike. When they reached the lodge, he and Ophelia hit the shower, but as soon as he was clean he left her to finish on her own so he could check his messages.

  Most of them were demands to know when he was coming home, and some cryptic talk about a wolf in the chicken coop.

  What the fuck?

  Concerned, he dialed Fox’s number and hoped he picked up. It rang twice.

  “Finally!” Fox said, exasperated. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Hiking. There’s not much service. I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere.” They knew that. Why were they being such pussies about it? They’d never bitched about him being away before.

  “Well, while you’ve been fucking around with your little hotel queen, one of Marcel’s idiots has been making trouble.”

  Fuck. He’d thought Marcel’s crew had decided to lie low after his death. “What?”

  Fox sighed. “Vander. He’s careless and the police have been watching him. And he’s been watching us, which means we’re on the cops’ radar now.”

  “Oh shit.”

  “We’ve got one cop who keeps bringing laptops by, saying the precinct needs them repaired.” His voice tightened. “Atlas has been dealing with him but . . . I’m wondering if we should just pack up and go before this shitstain takes us down with him.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. His family was in crisis and here he was messing around with a pretty girl and having a vacation. But he couldn’t desert her. Could he? Should he? He wasn’t even sure how he could help Fox and Atlas. If it was just about giving the guy a scare, Fox was the most intimidating of them. And Atlas could bullshit his way through business dealings with the cops.

  “God, the timing couldn’t be worse.” He let out a long exhale. “I’m coming back. I just need . . . three more days. Can you give me three days?”

  A pause. Was he being a selfish asshole? Part of him worried for his cousins’ safety, but he also knew they could take care of themselves.

  “I’m not sure how I could help anyway. If there are cops involved, it’s best to lie low.”

  Fox grunted. “Your family is more important than a hot piece of ass.”

  “Don’t get all sanctimonious with me,” Luke snapped. “I remember how you were with Addison. You were a space cadet.”

  “I loved her. We had a real relationship. I wasn’t chasing some pipe dream across the country—”

  “Fuck off, Fox.” His frustration took over. Frustration about the timing, the situation, fear for their business, and the fact that Fox was probably right. Ophelia was a pipe dream and he was wasting his time, but he wanted this. Wanted her. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away just yet. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Look.” Fox took an audible breath. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to insult you. Clearly, you like her. I won’t judge you for that. Just . . . take three days. We’ll be fine. But try to think realistically about this. What’s your future look like with this girl?”

  He wanted to tell him to shut up again. Did he have to think about a future? Couldn’t he just enjoy the now?

  But a future without Ophelia was starting to look . . . bleak. She was interesting and fun and sexy as hell but that wasn’t even half of it. It was too hard to explain. Fox should understand after he’d been so insane over Addison, but sometimes words just didn’t cut it.

  It didn’t matter anyway. In three days, they’d return home and part ways. The adventure would be over. He should start pulling away now. It’d be easier to drop her off at home and walk away if he started detaching ahead of time.

  Yeah. That was a good plan.

  Luke said good-bye to his cousin, then placed his phone on the nightstand and stared at the carpet design, contemplating his next move. Detach. He could do that. She was just some woman, right? He barely knew her.

  The bathroom door opened and Ophelia stepped into the room, a towel wrapped around her body, her hair hanging wet on her shoulders, and her cheeks rosy.

  Fuck. All thought of cousins and car theft evaporated. She was lovely and vulnerable, and he really wanted to kiss her. He wanted an army of mutant goats to show up and attack them so he could impress her by fending them off.

  He wanted to do every pervy and romantic thing he’d ever thought of to this poor creature.

  He settled for pervy, for now. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I just came out to get some clean clothes.” Despite her words, she stood in the center of the room, skin glistening, chest rising and falling too rapidly for the casual air she was trying to exude. She lingered there, her towel slipping down until it barely covered her nipples.

  Her gaze wandered the room aimlessly. With another woman he would have thought she was lost in thought, but not Ophelia. She was painfully aware of him, her body alert and full of tension. Like a sweet little bitch in heat, all too aware the dominant male had taken notice.

  He let his gaze travel over her, and smiled lazily to let her know he enjoyed what he saw, even though she was pretending not to be watching him. Although they hadn’t known each other long, he was starting to decipher her body language, especially when it came to arousal. This was a signal that she was needy but too shy to ask.

  “Come here.”

  She clutched her towel tighter, and ducked her head. “Why?”

  “Because I want to play with your pussy.”

  The pink in her cheeks darkened to red. “You’re so dirty!”

  “Nope, just showered.”

  “I mean what you say. You can’t just kiss me, you always have to say something crude.” Her grip on the towel shifted, threatening to expose one of her breasts, and he stared there in silent anticipation, willing the towel to droop lower. As though he hadn’t just seen her naked in the shower. There was something about a woman in a towel that made a man sit up and take notice. Some parts even more than others.

  “Come here. Let me check how much my crude talk turns you off.”

  “What? No!”

  “No? Hmm . . . that’s not your safeword, sweetheart. Are you disobeying me in the hopes of getting another spanking?”

  “Well . . . no. I . . .” Her adorable, pink-painted toes dug into the plush carpet.

  “Then come here, before you get punished.”

  A mottled blush spread up her chest and neck to meet the one in her cheeks and extend straight up into her hairline. Little blond girls sure could blush.

  She made her way over to him, plucking imaginary lint from her fluffy white towel and inspecting the bedroom carpet. When she reached him she stood an arm’s length away, looking sweet enough to eat.

  “Come here and sit on my lap.”

  “No!”

  “Why not?” He grabbed her wrist and towed her closer.

  “I’m too big to sit on your lap.”

  Too big? He snorted. “Hardly. Now you have two choices, little Miss Ophelia. Either sit on my lap or lie over it.”

  She bit her lip and frowned at him playfully. “But I don’t need a spanking.”

  “You also have the option to sit.” He chuckled quietly. “Why am I not surprised you’re more interested in the idea of being spanked than in having a conversation?”

  “If I sit on your lap in a towel, I highly doubt we’re going to talk about anything other than what comes up.” She said, glancing pointedly at his jeans.

  “Last chance to sit, little girl.”

  Her bottom hit his thighs so fast that he chuckled.

  “You didn’t like when I spanked you on the trail today?”

  “No,” she mumbled.

 
“No? Why not?” Maybe the chance of getting caught had freaked her out.

  “Shut up.”

  He raised a brow and she ducked her head, nibbling on the end of her thumb.

  “What part didn’t you like?”

  She squirmed, and he regretted having put jeans on. He could have been inside her for this conversation. Her pussy was so warm that if the towel hadn’t been between them she probably would have made a mess where she was sitting. Even though she’d just showered, the scent of her arousal was already reaching him. Such a horny little thing, and that suited him just fine.

  “Tell me,” he coaxed when her hesitation went on too long.

  She traced a finger over the tattoos on his chest, then more shyly over one of his nipple piercings. He had to fight not to react.

  “You didn’t pull my pants down,” she whispered, then buried her face in his shoulder.

  “You like it better when I spank your bare bottom?”

  “Shh! People are going to hear you!” She made a high, distressed noise that was completely adorable.

  “They’re going to hear more than that in a few minutes.”

  She frowned up at him, and he grinned at her.

  “You’re not very nice,” she grumbled.

  “Did I ever say I was?”

  “No.” She leaned her head against his shoulder again, then grabbed his hand and lifted it to her mouth.

  Before he realized what she was doing, she slipped his middle finger in her mouth, latched on, and started to suck. A full body shudder racked through him, and he closed his eyes, surprised at how such an innocuous thing was turning him on. God—everything this woman did was an aphrodisiac.

  “What are you doing?” he said huskily, seriously thinking of throwing her down on the bed and shoving his painfully hard cock into her mouth.

  She stopped sucking his finger and the sensation and the wet sound of her mouth releasing him made him shift in discomfort. The woman was fucking evil.

  “Sucking,” she said. “I like to suck on things sometimes. It makes me feel better. Don’t you like it?” Big brown eyes regarded him quizzically.

 

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