Mountain Man SEAL

by Quinn Peachwood

  We drive off in silence. The woman quiets down. We continue without speaking for close to an hour. Tank and I got used to interminable long drives through the desert, without the need for idle chatter. And I’m full of concern for what we just pulled off. Taking matters into our own hands isn’t as acceptable as it is when on mission.

  I also hope that Tank understands that this girl is all mine. Do I need to somehow assert the fact that she belongs to me and me alone. He had better not think she’s fair game. I know how he can be with women. Game being the operative word.

  Finally we turn off the paved road onto a dirt road. The truck bumps through the woods that skirt the valley then up a steep winding track to an elevation of almost seven thousand feet. The air is lighter and cleaner with the tang of pine. I feel I can breathe again.

  We pull up in front of the cabin and get out to unload the supplies we went into town for - Tank shoulders the refilled gas bottle into the kitchen. I unload the few grocery essentials. And most especially the items we need for conducting the business of distilling liquor.

  He comes back from the outhouse and I see him making a beeline for the back door of the truck to get the girl. But I’m closer and faster and beat him to it. I reach in and grab her under the arms to pull her out. I lift her bridegroom style to carry her to the cabin.

  Right away she starts writhing around, trying to wriggle out of my clutch and again my steel starts to heat up.

  She’s just too perfect. Her body is amazing in the skintight leggings and tee shirt that accentuates the voluptuous curve of her.

  I could gaze at her all day long. Look at her, turn her over and over like a boy with a new truck. But I want to see her face up close, see her eyes meet mine and share that intense connection again.

  “Reckon we oughta leave that tee tied around her eyes, just to keep her tranquil.” My buddy commands, as I reach to pull it off.

  “No. Please.” She whines, her rigid muscles suddenly going limp in my arms. “I’ll be good.”

  Ignoring Tank’s idea regarding my girl, I yank the tee off. Her eyes don’t come floating up to find mine though. She’s disoriented from the journey, completed in the darkness.

  Her eyes are swimming in confusion and her hair is stuck to her face where she sweated inside the fabric. I instantly regret how I’ve mistreated her in our short relationship.

  I reach my hand out to her cheek to remove a strand of dark auburn hair. She pulls away from me, an instinctive reaction. As if I’d ever harm her. I realize how badly we’ve messed this up.

  Her eyes refocus with the light and go flashing around, taking in the deeply wooded surroundings. She stares at the shack, hidden in the trees from any fool that might come wandering this far off the beaten track.

  She almost seems to be looking for something, or someone. Then her gaze alights on Tank standing on the porch, on the truck, and finally come to rest on me.

  With the most heated, blazing, gaze of loathing I’ve ever encountered in a female.

  “You.” She yells.

  She tears herself out of my grasp and gives me a steely glare that tells me this may not be as easy as we thought.

  “How dare you, how - dare you, snatch me off the street?” She snarls.

  I reach out a hand to her shoulder, meaning to calm her, let her know it’s going to be okay. But she shakes me off violently.

  “Get your hands off me.” She screeches. “And take me back to Hot Springs right now.”

  The mention of the name of the town reminds me of where I first saw her, soaking in the water and completely naked. The memory stirs the heat roaming through my groin.

  Her breathing is short and labored, her chest goes up and down rapidly with a bounce of flesh that again sends my steel rising to the challenge. Each new arousal is more painful than the last, my desire repressed and denied.

  Tank start laughing raucously. “I told you she was a feisty one.” He says.

  The look of horror that passes across the girl’s features is truly daunting. Tank was right about one thing, she isn’t going to be easy.

  But that’s probably what attracted me to her in the first place. Her provocative nature is much more interesting than some docile type. God knows there’s not much up here to keep me amused, apart from Tank’s coarse humor. I need a woman that will give me some stimulation.

  She fixes me with the kind of disbelief you offer a murderous lunatic. “Are you insane? Are you freaking kidding me right now?”

  The girl turns away and starts walking, stomping really - past the truck and down the track, the only pathway back to civilization. Tank lets out a hoarse laugh again.

  “Watch out for bears and rattlers on your way down.” He shouts, before dissolving into loud laughter again.

  The girl halts in her tracks. She’s in no way equipped for the ten mile hike through back country. Not in the furry sandal things she has on her feet that are worthless for anything other than expeditions to the Main Street coffee shop.

  But after the briefest pause, she continues on with a resolution in her step that fires me up with a more ravenous hunger to possess her. I love her spirit. The need to claim her and tame her is intoxicating.

  With a couple of strides I catch up to her easily. I grab her arm and haul her back to the house. She fights me every step of the way, even landing a sharp kick on my shin that makes me cry out in surprise and sets Tank off yet again.

  “She needs handling.” He advises.

  I ignore him because I know how well he handles women - not. But with the girl thrashing and writhing against my hold, I put an end to it by picking her up and tossing her easily over my shoulder.

  She’s kicking her legs and pummeling her little fists into my back muscles, but I barely feel her resistance. What I do feel is the movement of her thighs against my shoulder and pecs as she kicks her legs.

  I clamp my bicep down over the backs of her thighs to stop her squirming. It’s driving me insane. The blood is rushing so fast through my veins I think I might buckle.

  Her ass is stuck up in the air beside my ear, her pelvis is pressed against my collar bone and I’m sure I can feel the heat of her emanating into my skin.

  The urge to peel back those leggings and claim her is irresistible.

  I carry her into the house and hear Tank move to follow behind.

  “I can handle this.” I tell him.

  “That’s right, son, You break her in.” He says. He grabs a bottle of beer and heads back outside to settle into a rocker.

  This girl is mine and mine only. I hope he knows that. But I’ll deal with that later, right now I need to settle her and start to make her accept me.

  I thought we had an instant connection but that seems to have gone up in smoke for the time being, no doubt due to the unseemly manner in which I tried to make my intentions clear.

  Snatching a woman off the street and bagging her might not endear her to me right away but she’ll come around in the end.

  I set her down by the couch but she doesn’t sit. She’s looking at it with distaste. I guess it is a little grubby and well-used. Then she turns back to face me with those fired-up eyes. Her mouth is set in a firm line of rebellion but that doesn’t make it any less desirable.

  The need to claim those lips with mine is unbearable.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” I say. “I only want to make you happy.”

  She lets out a croak of ironic laughter then goes right back to staring me down, silent, revolted. Clearly she needs more persuasion.

  “You’ll see it’s real nice living out here, once you get used to the solitude.” I say. “We don’t have much in the way of modern convenience. No cable or internet. But that means we’ll have more time to spend together.”

  She glances sharply around the one-room living area with a curl of her gorgeous full lips before returning to stare me down. Looking at it from her standpoint, I guess it looks a little squalid.

  “What are you some kind
of survivalist? Doomsday prepper?” She asks, her voice tremulous but still brave. This girl has some balls on her.

  “I’m just a man that believes in taking care of himself and his family without any outside assistance from some suits that put themselves in charge for the purpose of enslaving us. You think that’s weird?”

  “I guess that depends on the man, Blaze” She replies with an emphasis on my name that she obviously did hear Tank use.

  And behind the steel-braced stare, I’m certain I see a flare of fascination in her eyes.

  Just for a second, but it’s definitely there.

  5

  Whitney

  Breathe.

  I have to keep reminding myself. Inhale and long exhale. Maintain equilibrium and don’t let these two nutjob preppers freak me out.

  This place is a total falling-down dumpster shack, held together with not much more than moonshine fumes. There’s a pioneer-era stove in the corner and a tin basin tub piled high with dishes that have been there since the same century.

  That’s about the extent of the kitchen and if I’m not mistaken, there isn’t a faucet that goes with that sink. I wonder how they ever wash those dishes. Clearly they don’t. Maybe they just remove a dirty one from the tub and spit on it to give it a clean. Ugh.

  I guess it’ll be my job to take care of that now - if I’m really here to stay. Does that mean domestic servant or something…more? Aside from the whole kidnapping thing, I also can’t stand a hairy man. Double ugh.

  I feel totally out of control of my own body, shaking inside now that they’ve stated their intentions - not to kidnap me for ransom but to keep me here.

  You hear about human trafficking but you never think it’s going to happen to you. Not on a semi-gentrified street in a cute ’n’ friendly mountain town.

  No one knows where I am. I dropped my phone so even if Reese has a brainstorm regarding our abrupt disconnection and decides to track me down, she’d never be able to trace me.

  No, I am really up shit creek as they say. So it’s vital that I keep my wits about me and wait for an opportunity. Or a paddle.

  I can’t make these guys out. I figured at first that they were a couple of hillbillies. This nutjob in front of me, seems like a prepper but man is he hot under that fur. And the cocky one on the porch drinking hooch is nowhere near as grizzled. I thought I saw the back of a shiny-looking hog parked in the shack that doubles as a barn.

  I also saw the piles of equipment, which if I’m any judge of massive plastic jugs and a huge copper still, are for brewing or distilling.

  Jeez, how is a girl supposed to survive in a dump like this?

  “What’s your name?” the guy, Blaze, asks with an almost shy smile that belies his massive frame and hairy face.

  These two obviously don’t possess the same genetic make-up, nor something as commercial as a razor blade.

  I stare back at him. denying him what he wants.

  “Answer me.” He commands.

  I continue to stare at him, not giving in to him at all. Get used to it because no one is breaking this girl ever again.

  “You need to start doing what I tell you.” He says with a dark edge.

  “That right? Like a pair of hillbilly outcasts can manage to break me when Jarke couldn’t manage it?”

  A flicker of outrage passes across his strong features. Then a huge grin makes that beard waggle on his chin along with a rumble of laughter.

  “Did you actually just call me a hillbilly?” He husks and belts out a roar.

  He seems to find this unjustifiably hysterical. His laughter reaches down to his corded thick forearms so they flex and tauten, the tattoo ink covering them seems to come alive.

  “Actually that’s what you are in case you didn’t realize. A dumb hillbilly who couldn’t hack real life.”

  In two steps he’s in front of me, his body so close I feel all kinds of energetic heat radiating into my pores. The air seems to thicken with steam so that I find it tough to inhale.

  The breath stalls, halfway into my throat, perhaps because my heart is beating wildly and filling my chest. But I have no intention of showing him fear.

  I stare back at him, tipping my chin up until my head goes all the way back on its stem. He’s so much taller than I am. And about three times wider.

  His chest expands until our torsos are almost touching. Damn, his closeness sets my nipples peaking with heat. They protrude out through the stained shirt as though trying to graze their sensitive tips over his powerfully carved muscle.

  Does the hillbilly notice the bullet points growing under the material? I think so because his smirk gets wider.

  “You should learn how to speak nice to your man.” He husks.

  The desire in his voice reflects an equal amount trapped in his pupils. We’re both breathing as rapidly as though we’d sprinted up the hill we’re stuck on.

  “And you’re the one to teach me I suppose.” I say, my breath hitching in my throat.

  “I suppose I am. Turn around and bend over.”

  I almost burst out laughing but his eyes hold mine captive in a prison of our need.

  My shock slowly morphs into the realization he’s serious.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” I hiss.

  “Them’s fighting words there, Darlin.” He smirks.

  Furious, I turn my back on him to stomp off. Where? There’s not really anywhere to go. I don’t have to think about it too long because Blaze catches my arm and flips my body around so he’s standing close behind me.

  His hands on my waist send shivers jaggering through me. Despite my intention to show total reluctance, I can’t wait to see what happens next.

  Again I don’t have to wait too long to find out.

  Before I can catch my breath, his hands slide down my body and beneath my tee shirt. Then he yanks my leggings down around my thighs and his heavy palm on my back presses me into a bend over the end of the couch.

  My hands fly out to catch myself from falling and the slap comes down on the back of my thigh making me squeal in surprise.

  “Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Blaze gruffs out.

  Another spank from his heavy hand, this one landing directly on my left cheek.

  I’m so incensed I could scream except, I’m also in shock at how my core clenches in a pinch of desire. My clit starts to throb and silently I beg for him to do it again.

  I want his hard palm to spank me over and over until my cheeks are burning with his punishment. I need his heavy hand exploring my secret places.

  I’m even more aghast when I detect how I’m subtly pressing my palms into the disgusting pleather of the sofa arm to arch my back.

  I hear a chuckle from Blaze behind me. Obviously my move wasn’t as subtle as I imagined.

  “You like that, huh?” He rasps, his tone unmistakably thick with lust.

  “I do not.” I splutter. “Get off me.”

  “What a mouth. Obviously you need more punishment, bad girl.”

  I manage to rustle up some indignation but my throat closes, refusing to emit the lie. Without conscious intention, I arch a little harder from my hips, tilting my rear up higher for him. My breasts feel fuller and warm, the nipples prodding in a frenzy of urgent longing.

  Blaze’s breath comes out hard and heavy and I sense him lifting his arm.

  I clench my buttocks ready for the slap. It comes right across the entire width of my butt, his hand big enough to cover both cheeks. My center lights up in a fever of need. Small pulsations cry out for him to slide his fingers deeper into my secret.

  More, I want more.

  As though he read my thoughts, Blaze’s thick fingers go to my hips. I tremble slightly with anticipation for what’s next. My ears alert for the sound of his zipper being lowered. He pauses, feeling the tremor go through me, waiting while I regain control of my overwhelming desire.

  I’m annoyed that he gets to relish my need for him but I can’t pack it away now that it’s be
en unleashed.

  It’s all I can do not to beg him to give me more.

  His fingertips press into my flesh and then he’s dragging down my dripping underwear. I tug in a gasp as the cooler air on my exposed skin makes me pulse harder with eagerness. The silky material stalls when it meets the leggings bunched around my thighs and Blaze seems too impatient to yank it all the way down my legs.

  He leaves my clothes halfway down my thighs but it’s more than enough. It’s all I can do to stop myself from shimmying my feet apart so he gets a perfect view.

  He’s managed to unleash my hunger despite my protests that he never could. I want his rough hands on my skin, all over every part of me. I want him to squeeze and pinch my flesh, to soothe the raging hunger inside me.

  He may be a nutjob but he’s the most virile man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  And he seems to adore me - or at least want to claim me at an extreme level. A girl can’t help but enjoy that kind of appreciation, especially from a man as hunky as Blaze.

  Not that I’m going to give way to him.

  Hot damn, I must be delirious. It must be the rehab and the abstinence from all the good things that’s making me think this way.

  Please, please.

  I don’t say it but my body is shouting from every pore.

  He’s making me wait. His hand rests on my hot bare cheek as though gauging the weight of the flesh filling his palm. Warm tingles fly through my body toward his touch and a low moan escapes my lips before I can repress it.

  My skin cools as he lifts his palm away. And immediately sears as he brings it down on my left cheek. This time I don’t get to savor the burn.

  His hand lifts and comes down again and again. The slaps land on one cheek and then the other and sometimes across both so that the resounding sound of my wetness filling his palm echoes around the room.

  My fingers gouge into the plastic sofa and Blaze’s free palm slides under my ribs, to support me as my spanking continues. His hand is so close, grazing the underside of my right breast. It screams for attention and I buck wildly in an attempt to fit it into the cup of his palm.