Lana stretched and sighed, as she lay wrapped in Crank’s arms. She watched through the glass front of the cabin as the snow drifted down in big, fat flakes, the sun peeking over the distant crests bathing the entire cabin in warm reds and oranges. They had gotten off to a rocky start as she struggled with her grief, but after nearly sixty days together in the cabin in the woods, she was in heaven.
The shootings back home had stopped, and she was falling hard for the big, beefy, and oh so luscious biker with the big heart. They had walked in the woods, had snowball fights, and sat on the couch in front of a roaring fire, sipping mulled wine with raisins, and watched it snow.
She had watched him as he learned to chop wood, and then laughed as he complained of being sore. He’d learned to cook, and she’d learned to watch for ambushes as he stalked her in the forest, and how to move silently through the trees. And at night they had made love. Slowly and passionately, for hours, unless they were tearing each other’s clothes off as they bit and scratched and cried their pleasure to the world. There was no television and no Internet, and she hadn’t missed either, the lack of distractions giving them more time for each other.
He had been in near constant contact with the Legion, and she with the police. The police and the Legion were still looking for Silas, but the consensus was he had left Amberton, no doubt frustrated by his inability to find targets.
Everyone agreed that it was probably safe for them to return to Amberton next weekend. They will have been gone fifty-eight days at that point, and Lana would return to duty the following Monday. Except she really didn’t want to return to work. Before Silas, her career on the Amberton PD had been the most important thing in her life. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
She felt Crank’s lips kiss her shoulder as his embrace tightened around her, his big hands cupping her breasts as he tugged her back into him. She smiled and turned, rolling over onto her back as his lips covered hers.
They had bought enough clothes to last them a week—three pairs of jeans and six shirts each, along with underwear—but they hadn’t bothered with any type of sleepwear. And why should they? She wanted nothing between her and Crank at night.
Crank breathed in her scent. In the past fifty days, he’d fallen hard for her. She was everything he wanted in a woman. Funny, smart, brave, self-reliant, a tigress in bed, and stunningly beautiful. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she seemed to thrive on the attention.
They fucked—no, not fucked, made love—at least twice every day, once in the morning and once again at night, but often their passions overtook them, and they made love again once or twice more during the day.
There was nothing sexier than making slow, tender, love to Lana as the sun rose over the mountains beyond the window. He’d made up his mind last week that he was going to tell her how he felt, but he was saving it for their last night in the cabin together.
He had the evening planned. He’d learned to cook and discovered he had a flair for Italian food, so he was going to start by preparing her dinner. Then, after the meal was complete, he was going to prepare her a mug of warm mulled wine, with raisins, the way she liked it. They were going to sit in front of a warm fire as he casually caressed her breasts while watching the stars come out. Then he was going to tell her he had fallen hopelessly, madly, joyously in love with her, take her upstairs to their bed, and make love to her all night.
“Good morning,” he whispered, his lips millimeters from her own.
Lana smiled as his breath, warm and soft, tickled her lips. “Good morning to you,” she whispered back as she caressed his face.
She could feel his impressive hardness as his thick cock lay against her leg, so she slid her hand between them and took him into her hand. She had always enjoyed sex, but goddamn, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him. Having him fuck her to nirvana first thing in the morning always started the day out right, then having him do the same again at night was the perfect way to close out a perfect day. And, sometimes, she got lucky, and he did it to her in the middle of the day too.
He kissed her again, his tongue dancing with hers as he pulled her into the kiss, her lips warm, soft and sweet beyond measure. He rolled, pulling her to lay his chest. He was aching for her, even more than usual, this morning. He wanted to please her, wanted to see her squirm and writhe under his touch.
He pulled back from the kiss, all but panting in desire. He pushed her up with one arm as he grabbed her ass, sliding her up as he scooted down, steering her knees over his shoulders before clamping her to his face.
She gasped as Crank’s tongue began to flick and dart. She’d sat on his face like this for the first time, with any man, several weeks ago. She’d enjoyed the dominate position, and she’d also discovered she could control the intensity of his kiss by raising or lowering herself slightly, and he’d given her the most brain twisting, mind warping, orgasm of her life. She’d actually cried out softly as her orgasm destroyed her, the first time that had ever happened too.
She’d been disappointed Crank hadn’t offered to do it again, even stopping her once when she’d attempted to move over his face herself, but having him surprise her by muscling her into position, which only made her need roar.
Lana settled over his face as he pulled her down to his waiting lips and tongue. Hearing her cry out in ecstasy the last time she rode his lips had been the single most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. He’d resisted the urge to do it to her over and over again, wanting to keep the experience new and fresh for a while, but this morning he wanted to please her like never before.
She began to moan as he devastated her bud with his lips and tongue. She clung to the headboard, her eyes closed, as his hands traveled up her body to caress her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples to aching erectness.
“Fuck…” Lana gasped as she shuddered, her orgasm rippling through her, searing along her nerves, lighting her up with pleasure. She groaned hard and deep, crunching down, unable to hold herself up, then barked out in pleasure as she tumbled sideways to the bed, unable to accept the pleasure Crank was giving her.
He rolled with her as she twitched and jerked, his tongue still busy as she twisted her hands in his hair, moaning softly until she relaxed with an explosive exhale. He smiled as he reduced the intensity of his kisses, and then began to caress her body with his lips and tongue as he slowly worked his way up her body to her lips.
She lunged at his lips, desperate to taste them, pulling him in and devouring him. He responded, pulling her in, their tongues engaged in an erotic dance as she pushed and shoved him between her legs. She was desperate to feel his hardness inside her, and as he sank to her depths, she broke away from the kiss, unable to breathe.
She moaned again as he slid into her, her sound like a whip-crack for his passions. She enflamed him like no woman before her. His special place—that place in his mind where he went to prevent himself from coming—hadn’t been open in almost two months. She ripped away his control, flogging him with passion until he was consumed.
He wrapped his hands in her hair as he lunged into her with long, slow, thrusts, his strong arms clamped tight to her sides. She opened her eyes, and he was staring at her. She loved the way he looked at her as they made love, his face hard with passion contained that made her feel like the most desirable woman in the universe, or soft and with a tenderness that made her want to weep in joy. But always, his eyes were intense, as if he were looking into her very soul.
Crank held her as he thrust. Before Lana, he had enjoyed a variety of sexual positions equally, but now, with her, having her under him so he could watch her face, watch her eyes, feel her flesh against his own as they made love, had become his favorite. He enjoyed fucking her in other positions, but when he was making love to her, he always returned to this one.
“I want you to kiss me when you come,” he breathed, his lips almost touching hers.
She nodded, the thought of kissing him driving her wilder. She nodded again, her orgasm stalking her.
“Yes…” she breathed.
Crank could feel his own orgasm rising within him, and he began to thrust harder, pounding into her, giving in to his body’s demands.
He grunted, his face becoming more intense, and Lana could sense the tension in him as he drove toward his own climax. Knowing that she was giving him such pleasure, that he was approaching his rapture excited her and her own climax swelled within her.
She watched him, her mouth opening slightly as his eyes drifted closed, then she lunged at him, kissing him furiously as he felt her clamp around his cock, and her soft moan as she forced her tongue into his mouth. He was close, so close, but he fought against his need, never wanting to stop. She relaxed a little, pulling back from the kiss with a sigh, then moaned and pulled his lips hard to hers again, holding him into the kiss as she devoured him. Again, he felt the fluttering of her muscles, and he barked into her mouth as he flooded into her.
Lana felt Crank’s warm splash as he groaned, their tongues slashing and darting, his hips pushing in hard, holding himself deep, until he relaxed with a gasp and pulled back from the kiss to bury his face in her neck.
“Fuck…” he muttered as he began to slow his thrust. “You make me come so hard sometimes.”
She smiled, caressing his head and back, enjoying the feel of his hardness slowly plumbing her depths.
“Not every time?” she asked in a playful pouty voice.
He chuckled and rose from her neck to take her lips with his own. “Hard every time, but sometimes harder than others,” he whispered as he released her lips.
She hummed in satisfaction as his hips coasted to a stop and he snuggled in. His breath was warm and soft on her neck, and she sighed. Despite everything that had happened, despite her loss and all the death, she was at peace. She’d fallen for her protector, and fallen hard, and she couldn’t imagine her world without Crank in it.
He slid off of her, and she tucked herself into his embrace. They were returning to the real world soon. In a week they would be returning to the world of jobs and people, but before they did, she wanted to scrape up every moment of pleasure out of this final week that she could. Having him make love to her, then falling back asleep in his arms, was going to stop when she had to get up and go to work. At least the falling back asleep part. She smiled as Crank’s breathing became slow, deep, and regular, and she was still smiling as she joined him in the darkness of sleep.
***
“How’s it coming along?” Lana asked as Crank carefully scraped at the board in his lap with his knife.
He held it up for her to see. He’d been working on it for weeks. Winter’s was finished, and Haven was nearly complete. Once it was done, they were going to hang it beside the door into the cabin.
“Almost there,” she said as she kissed him on the neck.
She’d carefully drawn the letters onto a piece of hickory that he’d cut from a chunk of firewood then sanded smooth. When that went up beside the door, she would consider the cabin truly theirs. All she had to do was buy out her sister’s share—something she was planning to do as soon as possible. She wanted to keep the cabin, and the memories she formed there these last two months, all to herself.
“Ready for lunch?”
He sat the wood aside and rose, tucking his knife into the holder on his belt. He followed her into the kitchen, then grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace.
“I could eat something.” He grinned then bit her playfully on the shoulder as he growled.
She giggled and squirmed away. “Keep that up, and after lunch, I might let you eat something again.”
“That a promise?” he asked then waggled his eyebrows.
“We’ll see.” She loved the spirited verbal jousting she and Crank engaged in. It made her feel alive, wanted, and feisty in a way she’d never felt before.
She’d been holding back from telling him how she felt, fearful that he didn’t feel the same way, but she simply couldn’t contain it anymore. Tonight, over a lovely dinner she had planned, Lana was going to lay it out for him and tell him how she felt, and the chips could just fall where they may.
She was sitting the hot ham sandwiches beside the cups of potato soups when her phone rang. She picked it up and frowned at the number.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get out of the house! Get out now!” Dane shouted. “Conrad knows where you are!”
“What? How?”
“He kidnapped Ed Callahan and his grandson. He’s there, now. Silas just turned them loose, and Ed had to find a phone. He called me because he couldn’t remember your number. You have to get out of there!”
“Oh no,” Lana said, hanging up the phone. “Crank! We have to go! Silas is here!”
“What?”
“Silas kidnapped Ed and his grandson and made him tell him where we are.”
“Get your shoes on,” Crank said, his eyes widening. It would be very easy to get trapped since the cabin only had one exit door. With the glass front, the only safe rooms in the entire place would be the bathroom upstairs and the laundry room downstairs.
They were scrambling to get out when Crank’s phone rang. He looked at the screen, his heart thudding in his chest, and then accepted the call.
“Hello, Crank. Miss me?” Silas asked.