by Vonna Harper
So fast. So hard. Mindless. Tingling from the top of her head all the way to her legs locked around her lover’s body. His cock slid in and out and created a level of friction she’d never felt before.
She wasn’t just climbing the mountain to climax. Now she raced up it and held onto the man responsible. They hit the edge together. She felt him start to hurtle over the top. His cum spilled into her, flowing throughout her, drenching her. She soaked up his gift, swallowed and fed.
Losing it, losing! Standing at the brink, losing her balance, laughing delightedly and catapulting into space. She screamed, screamed again, the sound going on and on and on.
The jungle absorbed it and kept it safe.
* * * * *
Neither of them spoke as they put back on their clothes and walked to where they’d left their respective vehicles. Maybe because she’d been ridden hard and put away wet, Megara couldn’t get a thought to stay long enough to make sense of it. Besides, what would she say anyway? That the refuge had cast a spell over them, and they weren’t responsible for their behavior? It wasn’t that simple.
He stood nearby as she unlocked her car. Then he held the door open, waiting for her to get in. She looked at him for the first time since climaxing. “What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” He took in their surroundings. “You’re all right? Nothing hurt.”
“No. Thank you for asking.” She didn’t want to touch him, did she? But could she get though the rest of her life without one more memory of him?
“Good. Megara, I’m not going to talk about what happened because…”
“I know.” She had an 8 a.m. meeting and undoubtedly his day would be full. They needed to get some sleep—apart. Some perspective, somehow.
“It wasn’t me in there.” He indicated the wilderness. “I’ve never done anything…”
“Neither have I.”
“Insanity?” Although he chuckled, there was no warmth to the sound.
“Insanity. Must be. Either that or there’s some spell back in there.”
“Could be.”
He continued to stare at her. Wondering if she was going to cry, she slid behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition.
“I’m not going to ask for your phone number,” he said. “What happened tonight—I need to get back my equilibrium. To try—to make some kind of—sense of…”
“So do I.”
“Be well,” he said after a moment. “This wasn’t a one-night stand for me.” He shook his head. “Yeah, it was. And yet…”
“I know,” was the only thing she could say.
“I won’t forget you,” he whispered. “Or anything about what happened.” He stared at her, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say. “And if you want to change your life,” he continued, “not do what you’ve been doing any more, go for it.”
“I will.” She started the engine. “But you’ll have to go on doing what you are, won’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe—” She reached out and patted his hand. “Maybe what happened tonight will help change your perspective of-of…”
“I could say the same of you.” He stepped into the night.
Epilogue
“Oh yeah, we’re gonna get laid.”
Although he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, Lon stared at the parking lot. The Monday night game—they’d won—had ended more than an hour ago. The majority of fans had gone home, but the groupies were still there, young, tight-bodied women who maybe didn’t know they were giving off messages of desperation. As he’d done ever since that night in the preserve two months ago, he waited for his cock to respond to what was being offered. Again, nothing.
“They’re after you, man,” his center said, indicating the preening women. “They want to notch their bedposts with you, not us lesser jocks. You gonna make someone’s night?”
He shrugged and reached for his car keys. If he could just make the next one hundred feet before some woman offered up her breasts—or some other part of her anatomy, in an hour he’d be asleep. Either that or thinking of—
He’d go to the refuge tomorrow. Run and run and think and become part of his surroundings. Part of his memories of the woman who’d shared it with him once.
“Lon? Lon Storms.” A redhead—fake probably—with magnificent jugs—fake certainly—stepped in front of him. “I’m having a party tonight,” she said. “And you’re the only guest.”
“Not interested.” He tried to go around her. She feinted left.
“What do you want?” she demanded as several other women laughed and crowded around like vultures after a carcass. “My pussy on a platter? You think you’re too good for us mortals?”
He was weary, not just because he’d been chased and pounded all evening. Yes, fucking Ms. Redhead would allow him to get through the night. But then he’d have to face morning—and loneliness. Not bothering to acknowledge the redhead or the other fawning women, he trudged toward his car. They must have gotten the message because for once no one touched him, no one reached for his cock.
Then, when he was no more than a half dozen steps from his vehicle, someone stepped out of the shadows. Irritated, he stopped. The woman—dressed in jogging garb—handed him something. He blinked, stared.
A fern.
Suddenly more alive than he’d felt since the fall night he’d led his high school team to the state championship, he looked into Megara’s eyes. “What are you doing here?” he asked when he could speak.
“I live here now,” she whispered. “Moved about three weeks ago.”
His lungs hurt. “What about your job?”
“They’ll go on without me.”
His heart pounded. He didn’t know whether to look at her or the fern. “You quit?”
“I quit.” Her mouth looked incredibly vulnerable, and her hand shook. “I learned…you taught me to go after what I need.”
“Which is?” he asked although he didn’t care about anything except taking the fern—and taking them both back to the refuge.
A smile lit her features and made him feel like laughing. “I’m doing fund-raising. Just started.”
“Fund-raising?”
“For the refuge. If it’s going to retain its magic and mystery, it has to—”
“Magic.” He held out his hand, and she placed the fern in it.
“Maybe that’s what you and I found,” she whispered.
“Maybe. I keep going back, trying to find it again. But it’s different alone.”
She stepped closer and, after a moment, slipped her arms around his neck. “I know. Lon, are you happy?”
“I’m different, matured,” he admitted. He wanted her to know this and much more about himself. “I’m finally facing my future.”
“So am I.”
“I’ve decided, when I can no longer play, I want to develop some after school sports programs for local youth—fun stuff with no competition or pressure.”
“It sounds wonderful.” She kissed him.
“It means a lot to me. As for the present, I’ve settled in. The team accepts me, and we’re winning games.”
“I know. I’ve been to all of them.”
“You…have?” He drew the fern over her throat. “No, it isn’t a question. I sensed—I felt your presence or something. I just didn’t know whether it was real or what I wanted.”
“Wanted? Lon, are you content?”
He took her sweet, hot body into his embrace. “I am now.”
“So am I,” she whispered. Because she’d buried her face in his chest, her words were muffled. Still, he heard them clearly. Believed them completely.
“I love you,” he said when he could speak. “I thought—for awhile I wouldn’t let myself go back to where we met because I thought what I felt for you might be tied up in the setting. But no matter what I’m doing, where I am, those feelings don’t change.”
“You love me?” she muttered. Then she laug
hed.
“You sound surprised.”
“No. No.” She leaned back, and her features came into focus. Joy radiated from her. “I-I came here tonight because I knew it was time to tell you of my love for you. It isn’t some spell the wilderness cast over me. What I feel—it’s honest and real. I can’t keep it to myself any more.”
“Neither can I.” Then, not caring who might see them, he lifted her in his arms and headed for his car.
About the author:
Vonna welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.
Also by Vonna Harper:
Equinox
Equinox II
Forced
Hard Bodies
Her Passionate Need
More Than Skin Deep
Storm Warnings
Thunder
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