by Lucy Wild
I see her again a few minutes later. I don’t want to but she almost crosses straight in front of me without even realising it.
I stand perfectly still, hidden in the gloom, silent as the trees around me. At my feet a rabbit stops, sniffing my boot before bounding off. I hardly notice. I can’t stop staring at her.
She has stopped under an oak, pulling down her hood and running her fingers through her hair. She looks like a wood nymph, a fairy coming out to taunt me, to remind me how good it can be with a woman. I shake my head slowly, wanting to look away, to run from her. She’s in so much trouble if I can’t get these urges under control.
She looks upset, her eyes glistening as she takes a deep breath. She glances left and right then begins undoing the zip at the top of her trousers. She slides them down and I can see her pretty pink frilly panties, my cock stiffening as I think of what’s just behind them. She continues sliding her trousers down her legs and I realise why a second later.
I get a glance of her thighs before I turn away, not wanting to intrude on her privacy any longer, already feeling like a peeping Tom. I march away from her, muttering to myself that this must be some kind of test. It has to be. I vowed to live alone, swore that I didn't need anyone in my life, that I’m happiest alone. Then what happens? The cutest, sexiest woman I’ve ever seen walks right past me in the middle of the forest and then starts lowering her trousers right in front of me. It has to be a test.
Somehow I pass, marching away, vowing to get back to what I was supposed to be doing. Once I’ve found the deer, I’ll go home and stay there for the rest of the day. Better to play it safe than to risk seeing her again because if I do see her again, those clothes are getting torn off her, I won’t be able to resist a third time.
I stop when I notice the signs of trouble ahead of me. I follow the tracks that lay thickly and sigh as I come across the scene I hate to find and have seen too often.
A deer lay dead in the middle of a clearing, a ragged wound in its neck. There’s been a group of hunters using the woods for about a year. They don’t kill for food, nor do they care about any of the rules or laws about hunting. They leave shot deer to die, this one has dried blood still sticky on its neck. It's been dead no more than a day.
I hear a noise and look past the deer. A fawn stands trembling, mewing softly for its mother. It looks at me and twitches its nose, as if deciding whether to run.
I hum quietly, moving as slowly as I dare, edging towards it. “Hush,” I say, beckoning as it takes an awkward step towards me. It’s limping, back left leg dragging behind. I can tell at once what happened here.
It ran with its mother, panicking as the whooping scum followed them both, firing off shots without a care in the world. My fists clench as I think of it and I force them to relax. The fawn stumbled, the mother injured beside it. I had no doubt if it wasn’t for the snow, I’d be able to follow spots of blood leading back to where it was shot.
I stand perfectly still, letting the fawn approach slowly. It takes several minutes but eventually it reaches me. I lean down and scoop it up. I heard the shots two nights ago and had been out looking ever since. Last time, I’d had to put one poor creature out of its misery, left with a broken neck but still alive. That was bad enough. This time, I'm taking in an injured creature. I have no idea I'm about to take in another.
I'm in my work clothes, dipped in all the filth of the forest to hide my scent, allowing me to move without scaring away the wild animals that live in the same woodland as me.
With the tiny fawn inside my jacket, I make my way back to the cabin. If I can get some milk into the shivering little thing, it might stand a chance. I have to try.
I've been walking for no more than a couple of minutes when a piercing scream reaches me from over to the right. I listen hard as it abruptly stops, cut off so suddenly, my ears continue to ring. Whoever it is making that sound is in trouble. The fact they fall silent so abruptly suggests the trouble has just become worse. I start to run.
End of Sample. If you want to read on, you can pick up Trapped on the 13th of October. Or read on for a sample of Wild Quickie 2, Jacked.
JACK
She was just an innocent girl out on a country walk. I knew better than to follow her into the hills but I did it anyway.
I couldn't resist her and now she's naked ready for me to teach her how dirty this mountain man can get.
CARRIE
I saw that look in his eyes and I wanted him. He was older, rugged, a real man, so different to what I was used to in life.
I knew when he followed me that I wouldn't be able to resist him. I was nervous, scared, and totally unprepared for what happened when I got Jacked.
Chapter One - Carrie
The first thing I notice is the peace. I smile and then let out a little sigh of happiness. My smile fades almost at once as the ratcheting ear-splitting screech of a chainsaw echoes down the hillside towards me. Why today? I haven't been here in six years and the one time I want to head up the mountain, someone is out to ruin it for me.
If I hadn't driven for two hours, I might not have minded so much. If this wasn't my last chance in God alone knows how long, I could have just turned around and gone back. I could have tried again another day.
But if I don't get the house today, I'll be homeless. Then I'll have to sell the car and then I might never get a chance to come back this way. The noise dies then builds again. How dare they!
Given an eviction notice on the anniversary of my mother's death. There was someone out there with a sense of humour about such things but it was all at my expense.
I had been given one month to find somewhere new and time was running out. There aren't many places that'll take an unemployed project manager and her cat. No provable income and a pet. So while already job hunting like mad, I had to house hunt at the same time. Yesterday I got rejected for a flat with peeling wallpaper, mould in the kitchen and no window in the bedroom-cum-living room. I'd laugh if it weren't so tragic.
Today is my last shot before I'm homeless. Evicted with nowhere to store my possessions. Sell the car and I might be able to pay for storage for at least a couple of weeks but what then?
So with the stress weighing heavy on me, I took one last trip, a pilgrimage of sorts. I had an excuse. The place I'm going to look at is just the other side of the mountain, edge of the village where I grew up. An old house that's falling down with two liveable rooms inside. It'll do. It's that or the streets.
I had the paperwork on the passenger seat, the eviction notice, the viewing details, the bank statements they'd want to see. I left it all there and got out at the car park, wanting just an hour of peace and solitude, a chance to remember Mum on the mountain where we used to walk together.
Was that too much to ask?
Apparently so as the noise of the chainsaw grew overwhelming. I set off up the path, the last of the autumn sun on my legs. It was warm enough to wear a skirt and strappy top, the heat on my skin the only pleasant thing about the stroll. I wanted birdsong and leaves rustling in trees. I got the roar of machinery and it was driving me mad.
Around another corner and I saw him, chopping branches off a dying tree. "Can't you give it a rest!" I shout.
He doesn't hear me of course. He's got a helmet with ear defenders. He's probably quite happy, can't hear a thing.
I can't help myself. I storm over to him just as a chunk of tree thuds to the ground next to him. "Oi!" I say, waving my arms in his direction.
At last he looks up, sees me, then puts the chainsaw down. He lifts the helmet from his face as I scowl at him. "Do you have to do that now? It's spoiling my walk."
The scowl is already falling from my face. I find it hard to be cross with him glaring back at me. I cower almost at once. He runs his hand over his brow before standing up straight and stretching his back. He narrows his eyes as he looks me up and down, pulling off his gloves at the same time.
I wince, ready for him to patronise me. It's hap
pened many times before. Still he doesn't talk and I'm weakening further. He's tall, muscles that threaten to burst out of the arms of his shirt. Beard that doesn't hide the rugged face behind it. His trousers are slung low, a hint of skin visible when he stretches upwards again. As he does so, my eyes are drawn down to a flash of black hair, just a glimpse but enough to make me wonder what else is lurking down there.
"Got to be done," he says at last and I realise I'm still staring down at his crotch. I look up and blush. "You know you're in the wrong clothes for a climb, right?"
I scowl again, hoping to make him wither. He just looks amused. We talk for no more than a minute and he makes no attempt to apologise for the noise. In the end I give up and walk away with a muttered curse, marching up the hill as he continues to try and talk to me.
"Watch out for the weather," he calls after me. "Fog's coming in." I ignore him, too angry to think about anything but getting as far away from him and that chainsaw as I can.
Within a minute, the noise starts up and it only fades when I'm in sight of the top summit.
I sit on a rock and look at the view, the distant hills fading as cloud begins to descend. I hate the fact he might be right, the weather could be getting worse. Already I'm cold, a breeze that wasn't there at the foot of the mountain is growing fast. I shiver, wrapping my arms around my shoulders as I think about Mum and me. We would sit here together after a climb that took forever, my feet aching, my head swimming. Then she'd feed me from the picnic in her rucksack and I'd be bursting with energy again.
All our troubles fell away up here. I missed her. All of a sudden, the wound of losing her was fresh and raw.
It had been four years since she'd died, two since my step-father had thrown me out of the family home, leaving me on the mercy of my contracts. Project managing was good work, until the recession hit and building stopped up and down the country.
My savings were long gone. All I had was the car and the cat and my memories.
I shiver again as the clouds roll in closer. The view is disappearing into grey, black in places as rain looks like it might start at any minute. I'll go back down soon. I just want a little longer in our place. If I don't get the house, I might never get to come back. This will be my last memory of the place.
Chapter Two - Jack
When she walked away up the track, two thoughts struck me at once. The first was that I'd love to lift that skirt of hers, yank down those panties and spank her little ass for speaking to me like that. The other was that she was going to freeze if she didn't turn around and head back down soon.
She looked furious with me as if it was my fault that the tree had been struck by lightning. She'd have been the first to complain if her darling Jocasta or Sebastian got hit by a falling branch. I knew her sort all right. They visit at the weekends usually, leaving their rubbish all over my beautiful mountain, they complain about getting lost but never thought to bring a map, they grumble about the mud and suggest without humour that we should tarmac a path up to the summit. I knew all about women like her.
It didn't used to be this way. I inherited this land from my father and back in his day all we did was farm. Now I'm more of a park ranger than a worker, pointing people in the right direction, getting the brambles cleared away from the picnic areas, all the stuff I never thought I'd need to do.
Chopping down a dead tree is just part of the job. What I didn't need was her coming yelling at me like she owned the damned place.
I liked the look of her though. Standing there with that pout on her lips, expecting me to grovel before her. She'd be waiting a long time before that happened.
I leaned back against my Land Rover and watched her heading up the hill, tempted to call her back just to see if she'd come. She had nice legs and I could stare at them all I wanted, picturing myself shoving them apart, plunging my fingers into her so I could taste her sweetness, burying myself inside her, rolling around on the damp grass, taking away that temper of hers.
"Do you have to make so much noise?" she asked, like I was doing it just to irritate her.
"Got a better way?" I ask and she just glares at me. "I mean, if you want to do it, be my guest." I hold the chainsaw out towards her but she still doesn't answer. "What's your name?"
"Huh?"
"Your name. You have a name, right?"
"Carrie, not that I see why-"
"I'm Jack and I've got a job to do. So, Carrie, why don't you head on up that hill and think about maybe being a bit more polite to people on your way down."
She looks hurt and I think I've gone too far. Then she just turns and walks away. She seems on the verge of tears. I fight the urge to run after her and instead get back to work. By the time I'm done she's vanished from sight and my phone is ringing in the car.
I walk over to pick it up, my mind filled with thoughts of Carrie, of how she'd look bent over the bonnet with me grabbing hold of her hips as I thrust into her, taking away all her tension.
I shake the thought and hit the answer button. It's Alison and she's got news.
"You haven't forgotten about this afternoon, have you?"
She's a great assistant. I had forgotten, not that I admit it.
"Of course not."
"You wanted to run through the plans before they go for final submission. We've only got until four if they're going to be get back to us today."
We had submitted proposals for a clump of holiday cabins up in the woods on the mountain. It had gone back and forth for months but today was the last chance to get permission secured before the deadline expired and we'd have to start again from scratch. I had the best people working for me but I had final say on what was sent over to the planning guys. I look at the time. Should be easy enough.
"And don't forget we're going to need a spec putting out if we get a yes."
"I'll work on it tonight for you. You think we'll get it?"
"I've got a good feeling about this, Jack. No one's put more work in than you."
"Bullshit. It was a team effort as you know."
"Well, this team member is going for a drink if it goes through. Care to join me?"
"I'll think about it."
She's a great assistant but she's not my type. Plus I knew for a fact she was part of the pool that was seeing who could get me into bed. They were all going to lose their money. I don't mix work and pleasure. Or so I thought.
"When do you think you'll be here, I'll get them all in ready?"
"Give me a couple of hours."
I ended the call and then began piling my stuff into the back of the car. As I pick up the chainsaw, I hear a rumble in the sky. Looking up I see the black clouds already coming in. The weather was due to turn. I'd just miss the storm if I headed downhill then.
But as the first spots of rain hit my face, I think about Carrie. She was up on the summit and if it was spitting where I was, it would be hammering it down on her. She hadn't a rucksack or a jacket. She'd freeze up there.
I did a mental calculation. The car couldn't go any higher. How long would it take her to get back down? As I thought, the rain grew heavier. She'd not make it, the clouds were becoming thick, fog growing around me. Another few minutes and the trails would vanish. It would be all too easy to get lost in such conditions.
I'd had to help mountain rescue a few times in the past when people had gone missing. It all looked so safe from the sunshine in the car park. But I knew from experience how fickle my mountain could be. It was a dangerous place if you didn't know what you were doing and she didn't know what she was doing.
I grabbed the overcoat off the passenger seat before slamming the boot closed. Leaving the car there, I turn to face the ascent, narrow my eyes against the rain, and begin to climb.
End of Preview
Enjoyed it? Click here to find out more.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lucy Wild is a contemporary romance author. She started out writing historical spanking stories before moving to contemporary romances. S
he has also written a thriller, Missing Piece, under the author name Emma Snow. She lives in Yorkshire with her partner and their border collie in a house full of books, sweets and more books.
Find her most recent books on her author page, follow her on Facebook or Twitter.
Please consider leaving a review on Amazon to support the author’s hard work.