I spent the rest of the morning cleaning up the cabin. Not for Cade like some kind of 1950’s housewife, but because I was the one sleeping on the disgusting floor with bits of wood everywhere and dust bunny balls. The stove and coffee pot needed a good cleaning too, so I went over those. Before I knew it, I’d gone over the whole place. The cabin looked sweet and cozy with wool blankets, comfy cushions, lanterns with candles inside, and logs stacked for the fire.

At home, whenever I did a big clean I liked to leave so that I could come back later and be surprised by how nice the place looked. It was silly, I know, but it was the little things you had to enjoy.

The pale winter sun reached the highest point in the sky, so I set off for an exploration trek of the area. I wanted to fill my lungs with fresh mountain air before the snow kicked in again. I walked towards the trees and higher up the mountain.

At the back of the cabin I noticed a large boxed-in contraption. I unhooked the metal door latch, swung it open and discovered a wonderland of frozen food. There was meat, vegetables, some fruit, and even long-life milk. So it wasn’t just canned soup and trout. The bare-faced liar. If he thinks we’re eating another dinner of canned soup he’s got another thing coming. I may have to cook it myself, but tonight we’re having a feast.

The walk was pretty slow going given how deep the snow was, and the steep incline as I climbed higher. I went over boulders that would have been shoulder high but with the thick snow cover only came up to my knees. After about twenty minutes of steady walking I’d warmed up from the inside. I came to a clearing where there were very few trees. It opened up in a cut between two mountains and sloped out to a flat section. As I got closer I saw steam rising. I’d heard about people hiking these mountains in search of the two-dozen natural hot springs. This must be one of them. I felt a rush of excitement, like I’d stumbled upon a treasure. It had small boulders along the edge on the downside of the mountain. It was nature’s version of an infinity pool.

I dared myself to get in. It would be absolutely freezing to stand here undressing, but it had to be absolutely glorious once I got in the water. Besides, how else am I going to take a bath today? Other than rubbing a bunch of lavender from Cade’s commode all over me I wasn’t going to have a chance to clean myself for the next few days. My clothes would be wet on the hike back down, but I could get them dried by the fire. The water looked really inviting.

I was going in.

I giggled to think of anyone other than a bear coming along and getting a pretty good shock to find a naked chick bobbing in the water. The layers of clothes came off as fast as I could possibly get them off. The less time I had to stand nearly naked in the biting wind the better. Coat first, sweater, then all my layers apart from my bra. I undid the laces on my winter boots and stood on one of the rocks at the edge of the hot spring pool. I peeled off my leggings, piled everything at the side, and about leapt out of my bra and panties and straight into that delicious pool.

I sunk to my shoulders and groaned with pleasure. The bottom of my hair got wet, but I laced my fingers through my hair at the back of my neck and lifted it into a knot to keep it dry. I didn’t want to get wet, but it looked so inviting I just couldn’t stop myself. I stood to see how deep the water was. My breasts were exposed to the air as the water hit me just across the rib cage tightening my nipples. Re-submerged, I kept myself in up to the chin and blew across the surface to push the steam along. It felt glorious, like a hot bath on a cold, cold day.

I wondered if Cade knew about this hot spring. Maybe he comes here all the time to bathe. I don’t see any other shower or bath device near his cabin. His cabin may be messy, he may have the rugged, bearded, ripped and tousled look about him, but he certainly didn’t smell unclean. In fact, he smelled real good. He struck me as a man who took care of himself.

My imagination stepped into the driver’s seat and I gave in to a delectable fantasy. Something my libido hoped would happen. In my mind’s eye he climbed straight up from the valley towards me in the pool, almost marching, not missing a beat, or wavering. Twenty feet away from me he started taking off items of clothing. He pulled off his hat first, ran his hands through his hair, then off came the flannel shirt. He dropped it as he came, still striding towards me.

My mind skipped over the part where he bent over bare-assed to the wind to take off his boots, because the thought made me laugh. I bought my focus back to his chest and chiseled bits and pieces of his stomach and chest, of which I got a sneaky peek that morning.

The laughter subsided and the sexy feeling returned with force. I imagined him sliding into the water. In over his head. My back arched at the thought of him under there. He surfaced again and flicked his head to the side to shake the water off. I imagined his hands, strong and weathered, but tidy skim over the water reaching towards me. With just his eyes and nose above the water he watched me and moved closer.

Again, he slipped underneath the water, grabbed my ankles and slid himself up my legs, across my hips, then up my torso and between my breasts, out of the water face to face. I thought about us kissing and how amazing it would feel to have his hard body pressed tight against me. My imagination took me so far away I was only brought back to reality when I realized the pressing sensation over my clitoris had come from me, and not my imaginary Cade.

My eyes snapped open. “This is ridiculous! Pull yourself together, Kat.”

He’s just one guy, and not a very friendly one at that. Probably misogynistic too. All the men in this whole big world and I was acting like he is literally the last man on earth. Why was I acting so crazy over him, anyway? He was rude, uncivilized, and uncommunicative, a brute. And he lied about how much food he had squirrelled away. To top everything else, flannel and beards had never been my thing. There must be something terribly wrong with me.

And then, I started to think of how that infuriating man’s rough beard would feel between my legs. So help me, God. I squeezed my eyes shut as if I could stop the relentless images, and tried to pull my thoughts away from him, but instead I thought of those rough hands on my body. I thought of the rippling muscles on a sunny day when they were all tanned and glowing with sweat. They must be really beautiful.

All that wood he had stacked up on his porch. I bet he chopped it all up with his axe while he was shirtless.

My fingers found my clit again.

Oh, what the hell? Who can it hurt if I indulge in a drop of fantasy? After all, you were supposed to fantasize about things you would never do in real life. I would never fuck him in real life. Not even if he asked!

So: a fantasy was in order. And no ordinary fantasy would do either. This one had to be special ... after all, how often does a girl come a across a man such as Cade? I closed my eyes and let myself drift off …