Gone Wild

by McCormick, Ever

  We looked at each other without saying anything, and my lips curved up just the slightest bit on one side, which sounds like not much, but my cheek felt like that small half grin took a lot of muscle strength, like inside I was doing some intense resistance training with a large weight.

  "In six months I have to start paying back my student loans, and I don't have a job yet."

  "So?"

  "I don't know. That stresses me out."

  He shook his head and stared out at the view all around us and then at me.

  "I don't know what to tell you, Ina." I loved when he said my name. The other side of my smile turned up. Talking about it was making it easier to lift the weight inside. "Stick to the choices that feel right and try not to judge them by their immediate consequences. It might look like the fakes get all the breaks, but in the long run, it's not like that. Even when you lose, in a bigger sense you win."

  I considered that and closed my eyes. I concentrated on the feeling of cool wind on my damp skin, my hair blowing away from me horizontally, the back on my head resting on Adam's muscular thighs. Right now felt amazing, even if I was unsure of every step, even if it was temporary.

  "Where was Michael during all of this?" he asked, shaking me from my momentary bliss.

  I didn't answer because I realized I needed to think about it. In all my memories of crying, researching firms I'd never heard of in hopes of possibly landing a last-minute job offer, ducking out of party invites because I didn't want to talk about my paper anymore, where was Michael?

  I felt another tingle, this time on my stomach in the stretch of skin between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my pants. And then another on my chest. Adam looked up into the sky and opened his mouth. I went to sit up, but that arm of his still lay across me and it wasn't budging.

  "What are you doing?" I asked him.

  "Tasting it."

  I saw the tip of his tongue reaching out into the air. I felt a few more tingles—on my belly, my forehead. The wind whipped my hair harder than before. I stuck out the tip of my tongue, and as if he sensed it, Adam looked down and grinned. It tasted like air, dirt, nature, sky. A few drops of rain landed on my outstretched tongue and I closed my eyes and let myself go completely limp in his lap. The rain drops multiplied, gained force, grew even colder than they'd been. If we stayed out here much longer, we’d be soaked through, but neither of us budged.

  I thought of all the goofy stares I'd been the center of during my entire senior year fiasco, the eyes rolling when people thought I didn't notice. I thought of my role as the class star that faded before she'd even risen. I tried to form those thoughts into a tight cloud in my lungs and then I exhaled it into the valley and imagined it dissolving into the air, getting diluted and washed away by rain.

  I'd been so focused on the immediate consequences of my final paper that I hadn't allowed myself to be proud of the fact that I stirred up debate in an industry that had become grimy and seedy over time. All in all, I had to admit that if I disregarded the consequences, I was proud I’d been true to my own beliefs. But I hated being blacklisted from HR offices all over the damn place. The consequences were real.

  I thought of Adam out here in the wild having nothing to do with any of it. Could I do that too? I had majored in marketing so I could fix it, so I could help wake people up from the consumer culture, believe it or not. I had gone into the belly of the beast—and I'd been digested.

  But maybe that wasn't so bad. Maybe I didn't belong in marketing anyway. Even now when I was desperate for a job, I didn’t want to trick people into buying stuff they didn’t need. Maybe it was okay the industry didn't want me—certainly better than going against my own instincts.

  When I opened my eyes, he was studying my face.

  “I don’t know where Michael was,” I finally admitted.

  His face didn’t show a reaction, but his words let me in a little. “That’s what I see when I think back too. She wasn’t there long before she left. It’s better to be fully alone than to be alone in a relationship with someone else.”

  9

  We were resting in the Adirondack chairs around the unlit fire pit. Well, I was resting. Adam was skulking through the surrounding brush. After another day of hiking and this time, fishing, my muscles were delightfully sore and I was leaning back with my eyes closed letting the breeze cool my skin.

  "Dill!" Adam called from the brush, and I rolled my head over to look at him. The happiness in his voice made me think he'd run into an old friend. He was crouched down pulling something from the dirt.

  Adam said something else, but I didn't hear him because I was distracted by the way the hem of his flannel shirt rose and revealed some of his skin when he reached farther out in the brush. Holy something, he was muscular. "I found dill," he explained, showing me a pile of skinny grass in his hand. "Perfect for the fish we caught." He grinned.

  "I've been wondering something. I haven't seen you in a vehicle," I thought about it and nodded, "ever."

  He smiled. "Try not to venture off the mountain if I don't need to, and I try to walk where I need to go. Why drive?" He seemed so confident about this philosophy. "I hate cars—the sound of them, the smell of them." He shook his head.

  "So what about that fridge? You have more food than a restaurant."

  "Amazon," he said, smiling. "You can get just about anything delivered, but I do have a truck. On occasion I leave the mountain. It's parked by the south entrance."

  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again. For some reason, Michael's stupid BMW appeared in my head. He bought it used, with a gazillion miles on it, and it constantly broke down and needed expensive repairs, but hey, it was a BMW, he used to say. Man that pissed me off. That car was one thing I wouldn't miss. I remembered one day when it actually did work, we drove out to an old country road and Michael tried to hand me the keys.

  "You're right," he said. "I'm sick of it. Let's joyride this bitch through the mud."

  "What?" I stared incredulously at his downtrodden expression.

  He thrust the keys right in front my face. "Here. You can have the honors. You’re always telling me how much you hate her."

  I stared at the keys and kind of did want to drill it through some puddles, but I shook my head no.

  "That car means a lot to you. I don't want to do that."

  Thinking back, I wish I had done donuts through the mud with that stupid car.

  Adam emerged from the brush and stood in front of me, eyebrows high as if he'd said my name a couple times already.

  "What?"

  "What's on your mind?"

  We’d developed this rapport in our time together. We could weave back and forth between topics without confusing each other, so I didn’t mind telling Adam exactly where my mind had been.

  "I was just thinking that I should have been wilder. I should have done more. I think if I had been a little meaner, cared less, I could have kept him interested." A tear threatened to roll down my cheek, but I didn't let my emotions get out of control.

  Adam crouched down in front of me so he could look directly into my eyes.

  "I think you're perfect the way you are, which is, to say, wild—untamed." He moved slightly closer and I could see all the black shadow accents in his pale irises. "You have no idea how happy I am that he fucked up, do you?"

  My eyes had drifted down to his lips, but they widened and snapped back up to his.

  "Not happy that he caused you pain, but that he lost you, and that you came here."

  I didn't know what to say. Adam was staring at me questioningly waiting for a response, and I sat there paralyzed physically, only able to repeat in my head: Do something. Say something. Take a chance. Kiss him. He's yours.

  His eyes dropped to the dirt, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and he clapped his hands together ending the tense silence.

  "Tell you what," he said. "Why don't we work on teaching you how to let go?"

  "Do you really think that's
something you can cure? I swear I've been trying to for twenty-two years now."

  He grinned and I'm sure my face blushed as I envisioned of one way I’d like to let go. My inner horn ball had been repeatedly nudging me as Adam and I spent more time together. I pictured him naked, driving me over the edge of an orgasm, making me scream out and buck against him like women did in the movies. I swallowed. If anyone could make me want to let go, it was him.

  "Force yourself to do something that scares you," he said, leaning in so close to me that I drew in my breath. A cloud of heat rose off his body.

  The only thing I wanted in that moment was Adam's sexy body. I wanted that mind-blowing orgasm I’d pictured in my head. Maybe even two.

  "Let's swim," I said, before I could think myself out of it, "naked."

  "Okay," he agreed before I was done pronouncing the D in naked.

  *

  The farther we walked and closer we got to the swimming pond, the faster my heart beat. Thinking about how cold the water would be got me thinking about how my body would react. I peeked back to Adam. He wasn't giggling at all. He looked positively turned on. This could easily get out of control and turn into who knows what.

  Soon we reached the beach that surrounded the pond. We both stopped, let our packs fall to the ground. We surveyed the smooth waves and turned to each other simultaneously. Neither of us said anything. His eyes seemed paler than usual, as they did when he was angry.

  I thought of my flash of wanting him on the trail. It wasn’t the first such flash, not even close. But no matter how much my wanting grew, sheer desire couldn’t make it happen. Even if Adam could sense my wishes—hell, even if he could read my mind—he wasn’t acting on it. And I began to think I understood why. As much as he wanted to give it to me, he was holding back because he was teaching me how to take it.

  I wanted to be wilder. I wanted to follow my instincts. I wanted to take what I wanted without waiting for someone else to give it to me. I turned to him. In one swoop, I pulled my shirt over my head, exposing my sports bra and skin.

  I tossed the shirt on the ground. He didn't say a word, just watched me, although I saw the response in his eyes. The irises were tiny. That made me feel powerful. He was older and established and knew what he wanted, but I still held the upper hand with him just by virtue of taking off my shirt in the right way at the right time. I unzipped my jean shorts and slid them down my legs, kicking off my flip flops as I stepped out of them.

  He started unbuttoning his shirt as I stood there in my bra and underwear waiting. I glanced to the water, down the front of me and to the ground, and then I looked at him. He was still staring at me and he dropped his shirt, finally exposing all that hinted at skin. I resisted the urge to rush to him and start licking. His body was as defined as I'd imagined it. He unzipped his fly and worked his jeans down over his hips.

  I didn't want to be the last one naked. Even though I was scared as hell, I wanted to look back at this moment and know I'd been fierce for once. I reached both hands behind me and unsnapped my bra. His eyes dipped the slightest bit when I pulled the stretchy fabric forward and tossed it on top of my shirt. His gaze came back up to my eyes as he stepped out of his jeans.

  I ran to the water's edge and didn't test it. I just forged into the glacially cold water, cringing at the unfamiliar soft sand and squishy leaves beneath my feet. My legs sunk down into it if I didn't keep progressing fast into the water. I didn't hear him splashing in behind me, but I waited until my breasts were underwater to turn around and see why he wasn't following.

  He still lingered on the beach, calmly watching me, and now that he had my attention, he took off his boxer briefs slowly, sliding them onto the beach. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. He walked down to the beach and then into the water, keeping the intense eye contact with me the entire time. When he got close to me, a smile broke the tension of his face.

  I smiled back.

  He dove underwater, disappearing until I felt fingertips skidding across my belly, my back, and finally over the thin wet cotton of my underwear. I spun trying to see him, but the water was murky from us stirring up its bottom with our entrance. He emerged behind me and I turned around to face him. The water and shadows seemed to darken his complexion, making his eyes stand out even more. The water dripped down his skin and I gasped at its beauty.

  I bent my knees, dipping my head below the water line. In the dark, I had the courage to reach out and run my hands up his abs and chest. When I arose from the water, I let my hands move up to his shoulders and rest there. The water dripped from me now.

  We flirted physically in the water for a while. We splashed and played, and there were moments when we smiled or stared at each other or touched each other in secret places probably not by accident. At one point, he dared me, and I snaked my underwear down my legs and threw them onto the beach, laughing loudly and loving how the sound of my laughter echoed off the rocky cliffs and the surface of the water. The whole experience was so different from the normal me. I marveled at how he made me comfortable, how all his tiny dares and suggestions led me to try, to say yes where a week ago I would’ve hesitated indefinitely.

  "Feels all right to be totally naked out here in the water, skin against elements, right?" he asked.

  I dove under and swam to the shallower water where I could saunter on to the beach in what I hoped was a sexy strut. I pushed my wet hair away from my face, feeling the wet ends tickle my lower back. I took a deep breath and turned to face him. I was trembling. I couldn’t remember a time ever when I had stood completely naked in front of Michael. We were eyes closed, fumble in the dark lovers.

  Adam stood in the shallow waves, not the least bit ashamed of the full frontal view he was giving me. How did someone get that kind of confidence? I'm sure it helped that his body looked like it could have been the focus of a Calvin Klein underwear spread, but it wasn't just that, because most of the time he kept that body under wraps. He did whatever the opposite of flaunting it is. But now that he was naked, I saw that his modesty wasn’t out of embarrassment like mine. He appeared as comfortable as he did in his flannel shirt and jeans.

  It sort of felt like we were the only man and woman in the world right at that moment, like this was the proverbial deserted island that couples dream of.

  I stretched my hands up over my head, letting my damp hair spill down my back farther. I was exposing my body more completely, pushing out my breasts and shaking my hips slowly. I was sending all kinds of bat signals his way, and I didn't care. I wanted him to act on them. His confidence had inspired mine. His encouragement had me pushing my own boundaries. Now, I wanted to push him to make a move.

  I opened my eyes to see if I was having any effect. I was. The waves lapped at his thighs, but everything above them was exposed to me. He was most definitely affected.

  And then I noticed a flicker of movement high above us on the mountain. A person, too distant for me to identify any real details, just a shadow, stood watching us. I wrapped my arms around myself and backed up even though there was no where to hide. Adam spun around unashamed, looking for the reason for my sudden discomfort.

  My head told me to put on my clothes, but I was paralyzed. The figure wasn't moving. It had stilled. Maybe it was just branches playing tricks with my eyes?

  Then, as if I had dared it to move, the shadow crept just a few feet closer, leaning on a different tree, but still watching us on the beach.

  I was so engrossed in watching those subtle movements that I didn't see Adam coming toward me. He barreled into me, wrapping his arms around me and pushing me to the ground, covering all of me from sight.

  "Get dressed," he said into my ear. His naked hard body pressed into me. Even now, I felt a wave of erotic tension. Even now, that want for him didn’t cease. "I am going to kill this motherfucker," he said. His eyes, still pale as a rainy sky, pulsed with brightness.

  "No," I answered. "Self-defense 101, just get away as fast as possible. L
et's go, please."

  He glanced to his pack, where I knew he carried his gun. He looked back to me. I peered around him and saw that the shadow man had moved again. I couldn't locate him anywhere. My eyes darted around the mountainside, but saw nothing but green.

  "He's gone," I whispered. "Oh, god. He could be anywhere. Can we just go, please?"

  Adam rose, gathered my clothes first and threw them in a pile at my feet before pulling his own clothes on. We both searched the mountains around us as we dressed as quickly as possible and made our way to the trail.

  I'm not sure if I blacked out during some of the walk back to the cabin or if it really happened as fast as it seemed. Maybe the intense fear I felt—I kept expecting a lunatic to emerge from every tree line—made me enter a time warp.

  Soon we were inside Adam's cabin with the dead bolt on and the kettle warming on the stove.

  "Should we call the police?" I asked.

  "I can defend my own property. I don't need a bunch of jackasses tearing up my mountain to 'fully investigate' every one of their stupid whims."

  I got the feeling he was referring to something in his past, something that rendered him sort of angry and defensive.

  "But they're looking for him, and we have information."

  "We don't know if that was him. It could just be a vagrant, a squatter, a drifter—checking out a couple of naked people. Who wouldn't stop to check that out?" He grinned, but I could tell he wasn't as relaxed and cheerful as he was pretending to be. And it worried me that he didn't want the cops involved. What kind of person doesn't want the cops involved? I was suddenly relieved we’d been interrupted. My clothes were damp and my skin was covered in goose bumps. Adam ran his finger down my forearm, drawing a line of heat onto my skin.