“John!”

I blink and look over at Fox. It’s rare that he calls me by my real name.

“What?” I ask. I’m standing out on the deck that takes up the whole front of the house. Because of where the chalet is built at the base of the mountain, we have a pretty sweet view over the town, the river, and the valley stretching beyond. You can even make out a few of the barns at Ravenswood. Or, at least you could, if the cloud cover wasn’t so low it obscured half the town.

“I’ve been calling you for the last few minutes,” he says gruffly, brows knit together. He’s in a mood, I can already tell. “Couldn’t you hear me?”

“I was looking at the view,” I say as he comes over.

He looks over the foggy landscape and cocks a brow. “Right. What’s with you?”

“Nothing?”

“You’ve been locked in your head for the last few days. That’s not like you. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I repeat. Nothing I want to get into anyway. The fact is, I’ve been thinking about Riley non-stop. I can’t get her out of my damn head, not even for a second. I haven’t seen her since that night in the gear room. In fact, because I haven’t seen her—our schedules aren’t crossing—I’m starting to wonder if that night ever happened.

Because, fuck, that was the best sex I’ve ever had. I mean…Jesus. The first time I’m inside her and she lets me act out the dirty fantasies I’ve had about her since the day we met. I don’t know what guy at North Ridge SAR hasn’t thought about tying someone up in climbing rope and fucking them senseless.

It’s almost too good to be true. No, Riley is too good to be true. That little minx is like God dropped off the world’s most perfect woman right on my doorstep. Only when I look at the package closer, it says “do not touch.”

I certainly didn’t listen. I touched her everywhere I could. As much fun as it was to have her tied up like that, wanting and waiting and vulnerable, it was hard as hell trying to keep myself together. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did. I’m surprised at a lot of things.

But I’m not surprised about my feelings for her. That little taste was everything and yet wasn’t enough. I’m hungry. I’m like a fucking junkie. Her skin, her taste, her breathless little sounds—it’s all that can satisfy me right now.

Of course, I don’t want to discuss any of that with Fox, though I can tell he wants to ask. I always kiss and tell, but not this time.

“Okay,” he says. “Well, I’m heading up the hill for a ski? Want to come?”

“Nah,” I tell him. “I should take Chewie to the dog park.”

He watches me intently and then seems satisfied with that answer. “Does that poodle still have a crush on her?”

“It’s hump city. Population: Chewie.”

But that’s all a lie. Not the poodle thing, there is a poodle at the dog park called Rubble that likes to hump Chewie all day long. It’s just that I’m not going there today. It’s Sunday and I’m not the only one with the day off.

As soon as Fox leaves, I text Riley.

Hey little minx. Want to come for a trail run?

The thing about working for search and rescue is that in our downtime, we have to stay active, keep learning. So that means running through the snow and up mountains, it means doing climbs, it means breaking into ice ponds and rescuing each other for practice. So, really, what I’m suggesting is good for the both of us.

She responds back right away. I’m in. Where?

Come meet me at my house. Do you know where I live?

Three dots flash and disappear. Then flash and disappear. Finally, the text comes through: I wouldn’t be a very good stalker if I didn’t.

I laugh. Good girl. See you soon.

I stand there on the deck waiting about thirty minutes, and I see Riley running up along the sidewalk toward the house.

There’s a smile on my face the whole time I’m watching her. I’m not sure if she’s as klutzy as she proclaims she is but there’s obviously some mind over matter shit going on as she tries to navigate the sidewalks that are slick and half covered with melting grey patches of snow.

My inner thirteen-year old has a moment.

Just as she’s coming up the driveway, I scoop up a handful of wet snow from the railing, press it into a snowball and pelt it at her head.

Plomp.

It lands right on her beanie and she cries out, “The fuck?” and the moment she looks up at me to see where it came from, her feet start sliding on the driveway in every direction.

Oh shit.

She goes forward for a moment, then backward, then she just kind of throws herself into the snowbank on the side as a last-ditch effort to save herself.

I burst out laughing. I shouldn’t and I should also feel bad that it was my snowball that brought her down, but that was probably the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.

Of course, I’m not a complete jerk. I quickly run down the stairs and in seconds I’m at her side, grabbing her by the elbows and hauling her out of the snow.

“Sorry,” I tell her, “so sorry.”

“You fuck,” she seethes as I pull her to her feet. “What are you, twelve?”

“I believe I was having a thirteen-year-old moment.”

“I bet you were,” she says. Then she scoops up a bunch of snow in her glove and before I know what’s happening, she yanks at the collar of my sweater and drops the snow inside my shirt, pressing it in.

The cold makes me yelp. Fuck!

“You dick,” I tell her, waving the sweater, trying to get the snow out and off my skin.

She sticks out her tongue. “Tit for tat.”

“I’ll believe it when I see a tit,” I tell her, still feeling the cold.

“So is your dog coming with us?” she asks.

“Huh?”

“On our trail run?”

“Oh,” I say slowly. “You actually thought we were going for a trail run?”

She glares at me. “This is a booty call?”

I honestly didn’t think she of all people would have a problem with a booty call, especially after we screwed the other night, but now I’m second guessing everything. Shit. What if that was it? Like, she got her fill of me and now wants things to stop.

“Uh,” I fumble for words.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m down for a booty call, Mav. I just think we should actually go trail running as well. You said yourself that even when it looks like winter is on the way out, we’re usually hit with one last wallop.”

Man, she is way more on the ball than I am. And she has the right idea. If we’re going to screw around in secret, then we might as well keep working hard as well. Otherwise it just feeds into the reason why there are rules to begin with: you get distracted and sloppy and when that happens, people die.

“Okay,” I tell her. “Give me a few to get dressed. Want to come inside?”

“How about later?” she says, her stance firm, because she probably knows the second she steps inside my house I’ll be tearing off her clothes.

I head inside and slip on better pants and shoes and then come back out, Chewie whining pitifully the whole time.

“The dog isn’t coming?” she asks me while I join her side.

“Chewie? She’s got short hair, so she has to wear a sweater, and that sweater is wet right now and also, she’s chubby and slow. So no. She’s not a running into the snow trail dog. She’s a pass out in front of the fire dog.” I pause. “Which was my original plan.”

“Later,” she says, swinging her ponytail over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

The easiest and quickest trail from my house is up a few blocks on Yates street until you come to the trail heading to Bridal Falls. In the summer, it’s packed with tourists, but in the winter, when the falls are frozen over and the trail is full of snow, there’s no one up there.

We take off running, our trail runners going over the snow with ease. Because of the recent melt, there’s only a few inches of snow and the higher up we go, the more stable the trail gets.

After a half an hour of running we finally reach the waterfall, the low cloud cover having parted for this moment.

“Wow,” Riley says breathlessly as she leans against the railing. “I can imagine how powerful it is in the summer.”

“I think I prefer it like this,” I tell her. The water is trickling now underneath the layer of ice. It’s perfect, like someone decided to make a waterfall ice sculpture. “It’s calming. The opposite of chaos.”

She seems to think as she looks me over. Her face is lightly sweaty, her cheeks and nose bright red. She’s breathless and yet she’s taking my breath away. “But you love the chaos.”

“I do. But, I think sometimes it gets old. Or tiring. I love getting that call, knowing that when I head out there, I’m doing something brave and important. It’s exciting. It’s addicting. It’s like nothing else.” I pause and take a deep breath. “But the older I get, the more I see other side. The peace. The quiet. I’m not sure what that means.”

She comes over to me and puts her hand on my cheek. “It means you’re getting older and the world is getting wilder and sometimes our hearts need a little peace. That’s all.”

“You’re so wise,” I whisper, half joking, half serious. Our faces are so close, intimate, her lips begging for a kiss.

“I’m many things,” Riley says, her hand coming off my face and trailing all the way down to my crotch “But wise isn’t one of them.”

I clear my throat, my limbs tense, my dick already throbbing at the mere suggestion of what might happen. I’m wearing rather tight jogging pants too, so there’s no hiding it. “Riley,” I say quietly but I’m not sure what else to say because there’s no way in hell I’m going to stop this.

She bites her lip, looking extra coy and drops to her knees in the snow, yanking down my pants and briefs.

My skin is immediately shocked from the cold and I gasp. She looks up at me with big sex-kitten eyes and takes off her gloves, dropping them in the snow, before taking the length of me in her bare, warm fist.

“Any objections?” she asks sweetly.

My God. I could never object to a single thing she does.

I shake my head and watch as she draws a long, thin line with her tongue from the base of my cock to the tip. I’m tempted to reach down because I know what I want but she reads my mind and rubs the tip across her lips like my precum is lip balm.

“Fuck,” I groan, reaching down and grabbing hold of her hair, half-pulling it out of her ponytail. “God, you’re so fucking good.”

“Mmmm,” she murmurs, running her mouth up and down over the hardened ridge and I’m helpless at the vibrations. “I can tell you’ve wanted this.”

I groan, my fist tightening. I know I can be rough with her but we both seem to like it. “I’ve been wanting to fuck those lips of yours since the moment I first saw you.”

“And I’ve wanted nothing more than to drop to my knees and suck this perfect dick,” she whispers hoarsely. “Match made in heaven.”

This is heaven. Standing here beside a frozen waterfall, Riley on her knees in the snow, slowly slipping my cock into her mouth. “I want you to swallow when I come. I want to feel your throat move.”

She pulls me out of her mouth in one long draw, her lips making an audible popping sound. “What makes you think I wouldn’t swallow?”

“I don’t know. There has to be a catch somewhere.”

“As long as you take me as I am,” she says, pausing to tease the rim with her tongue, “there are no catches. No surprises.”

“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong, little minx. Every day I’m surprised at how more perfect you become.”

Every day you become more ingrained my head, in my heart, I’m starting to think I’ll never be rid of you.

You’re under my skin.

You’re there to stay.

But I don’t say any of that because even the feelings are too raw for me to process. I’ve honestly never felt this way before and the more time I spend with her, the further I’m pulled under. New territory. It’s frightening.

And oh so real.

“You sound so hungry,” I say gruffly, my grip rougher, pushing harder into her mouth, as much as she’ll take me. The sounds coming out of her are messy, greedy, like she can’t get enough. I don’t even think she’s moaning for my sake, she seems to be insatiable for my dick.

And I’ll give her as much of me as possible.

“You’re beautiful,

you sweet thing,

these perfect lips.

You feel so good.”

I’m saying words but not really hearing them. The urge to come is building inside me, rising hot and fiery, and I’m desperate for release. I fuck her mouth harder, my fist anchoring her head in place, deeper and deeper and then I’m coming.

It’s hot as it shoots down her throat and then I’m watching as I’m still emptying and she’s trying to swallow. It’s messy, spilling over her lips. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Her tongue swipes out, bringing more of me into her mouth, still gripping my dick.

I’m surprised I didn’t fall over during that. I’m fucking spent. I could curl up in a ball in the snow and sleep forever.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my face to the sky, eventually letting go of her hair. I then pull up my pants, every part of me extra sensitive, running both hot and cold.

“Thank you,” she says, getting to her feet. “I like seeing you like that.”

I look at her through heavy lids. “Like what?”

“Powerless,” she says.

She’s right. I’m completely powerless and at her mercy.

“Okay,” she says, dusting off her knees. “The waterfall was great and that was even better. But now I’m cold.”

“I have a hot tub,” I tell her.

“Sold.”

It’s not long before we’re back down the trail and at my house.

“Are you ready to meet Chewie?” I ask her as we stand outside the front door.

Riley nods eagerly.

I open the door, and as expected, Chewie comes tearing out of the house. She runs right past us and down the driveway and then right back up in a tight circle, running around the two of us over and over again, ears back, smiling, tongue hanging out of her mouth. I probably looked like that earlier.

“She’s got the zoomies,” I tell Riley, putting my hand at the small of her back and ushering her inside.

“What are the zoomies?”

“When she zooms around like that.” I clap my hands at Chewie. “Hey, Wookie Butt, get over here.”

Riley snickers. “Wookie Butt.”

“Believe me, you don’t want to hear all her nicknames, though I’m sure by the end of the day, you will.”

Chewie comes barreling inside and up the stairs. She gets these energy bursts every now and then, which is always amusing, but it also means she’s going to crash soon. Which is perfect. I can’t say the number of times this dog has cockblocked me at one point or another.

I almost bring that up to Riley as we’re climbing the stairs to the main floor, but I manage to keep my mouth shut. Most women don’t care who I fuck around with because most women don’t stick around long enough to care. But with Riley, even though she has this don’t give a fuck attitude, I don’t think she’ll take too kindly to me talking about past conquests.

I certainly don’t want to hear about hers, especially when it comes to Neil. I really hope I erased that prick from her system.

“This is like a ski chalet,” Riley says, looking around. Chewie continues to zoom around the living room, going in circles around the coffee table, though she’s already tiring.

“That’s what we were going for,” I tell her. “Fox and I bought it together four years ago. He sleeps in the loft upstairs,” I point to the top of the cathedral ceiling. “That was all open before but we had it closed in. I’m down the hall.”

She walks to the large cathedral windows that look over the balcony and then the town, then past the fireplace and the fuzzy bearskin rug in front of it. “Hope you didn’t kill that.” She points at it with pouting lips.

I shake my head. “My grandpa. It was a dangerous grizzly too, kept eating our sheep. Believe me, I’m not a hunter.”

“A mountain man and not a hunter.”

I shrug. “I have too much appreciation for nature. But I also respect those who do hunt. Fox does for deer and elk. So does my dad. They use all the meat. No one in this town touches the predators. The wolves, the bears, North Ridge pretty much leaves them alone unless they’re a bother.”

She seems to appreciate that. She points at the fireplace with her boot. “Are you going to light this baby up? For after the hot tub?”

After the hot tub? Jesus. For some reason I thought she would bail after, but she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. And why not? We have all day. Kind of.

“My brother might be home when it gets dark. He’s on the slopes right now.”

“Then you’ll have to fuck me quick. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I can,” I tell her, walking over to her and taking her hand. “But maybe I want to take it slow. There’s no rush.”

“There’s a rush if you’re screwing me on the rug when your brother comes home,” she points out.

“You’re so crass,” I can’t help but comment.

She smiles playfully. “You love it.”

And I do. But honestly, and this is going to sound kind of lame, I wouldn’t mind some tenderness from her. I’ve only seen it a few times, like when she was coming, wrapped in rope. Those moments after sex, she’s soft and fragile and open. She’s someone I feel I can protect, who wants to be protected. Most of the time, Riley acts like it’s the last thing she needs.

But I want that.

I want her to need me.

While all of this is warring inside my brain, Riley reaches up and runs the tip of her finger down the bridge of my nose and over my lips and chin. “Come on, mountain man. Let’s get wet.”

I grab some towels from the linen closet and then take her hand and lead her through the kitchen to the back deck where we have the hot tub. It’s a small one but it backs out onto the mountain and there are huge Douglas firs between our house and the next so there’s complete privacy.

Snow surrounds the hot tub, biting into my bare feet after I’ve stripped naked. I pull back the cover, steam rising, and quickly get in.

“Fuck it’s hot!” Riley cries out, laughing and shivering as she gets in. “And so cold!”

“Man, you’re hard to please.”

I can’t take my eyes away from her body. Her breasts, full and perky, her hard rosy nipples, the sleek curve of her waist, the meat on her thighs. By the time she eases herself in, I don’t even feel the heat anymore. I’m hard as a rock and ready to go again. This woman will never tire me out.

“Come here,” I tell her, grabbing her by the back of her neck, relishing how delicate she feels in my grasp. I pull her toward me and crush my mouth against hers, my tongue sliding in, ravenous, hungry. She tastes sweet.

Her hands sink into the water, grabbing hold of my dick, just as she had earlier on her knees, with purpose, with lust. I love how much she loves this, like she couldn’t keep away if she tried.

I grab her by the waist and lift her up and she grabs hold of the tub edge behind me for leverage. She lowers herself onto me, not making a noise, not even breathing. Her eyes meet mine and for a moment she looks startled. Our faces have never been this close before while I’m inside her. It’s beyond intimate.

It’s probably why she looks away.

Hot tubs are notorious for sounding sexy but actually not being so when it comes to practice, but Riley is superhuman and she’s slick and wet and luscious inside. She’s so fucking good, so small, and warm. Almost as warm as the water we’re in. She moves her body up and down my shaft with confidence, knowing what she wants, what I want.

“Look at me,” I whisper to her and my words come out hoarse.

She reluctantly brings her eyes back and I lock them in with mine. I want her to see how I feel about her, not just what she’s doing to me physically, because that’s impossible to miss, but I want her to see in me.

“There you are,” I say.

She gives me a soft smile in return before her eyes close with pleasure. She leans forward and takes my bottom lip between her teeth and tugs. Then she kisses my chin, my jaw, my neck. I take over the rhythm, moving her up and down over my shaft in long controlled movements. I wasn’t kidding about earlier when I said I wanted to take things slowly but the reality is, the slower I go, the faster I want us both to come. My mind and body are at war with each other.

“Does that feel good?” I ask, wondering why she’s not saying anything. Usually she’s quite talkative.

She moans her response, digging her fingernails into my shoulder. But still, it’s like there’s something holding her back. I don’t want her to hold back, I want her to let loose, be loud, tell me how much she wants me, how badly she needs this. I want to know she wants this as much as I do.

My mouth drops to her breasts, sucking her nipple in, swirling my tongue around and around until I feel it stiffening in my mouth.

Her moans get louder and I’m rutting up into her deeper. I’m packed in so tight and she’s squeezing around me, the entire length of my cock in a warm, hot grip. I try and keep it slow and controlled but the truth is, I’m getting ravenous. I could fuck a lot harder than this.

“Tell me what you want?” I ask her, my way of checking in. “Tell me if…” My words fail as she starts to ride me harder, matching the speed of my thrusts, her pattern to mine. “Fuck.”

“Just this,” she says thickly, licking and biting my neck until I’m near the point of no return. “Keep going. Keep going.”

I take in a deep breath and try and keep the pace. The steam rises up around us and I take a hungry kiss from her lips, tasting like chlorine and sweat.

I’ve never had such ease with a woman before, this grinding and rocking of our bodies together, like they move as a singular unit.

And soon we’re moving fast, fucking hard, the water is splashing over the sides of the hot tub. She’s all around me, so wet and wild and ….

She’s so good.

Unreal.

I want her to come so hard she sees stars.

Impulsively I grab her ponytail, wrapping it around my hand, and then yank her head back so the delicate arch of her neck is exposed as I slam her up and down on me.

“Fuck!” she cries out. “Oh God. Mav.”

It’s not from pain, and if it is it’s from a pain she likes. A lot. I can feel her coming before she even says another word.

Her mouth drops open. Nipples harden. She rolls her hips, her chest shiny with sweat and water and she starts shuddering around me, squeezing my cock, tight, tight, tight.

“Mav!” she yells and moans and moans, her noises echoing through the forest, bucking against me wildly.

That does me in.

I let myself go. No holding back anymore.

I pump harder up into her as I come and I don’t know if she saw stars but I’m seeing them.

Holy shit.

A garbled mess of words spill out of my mouth as I spill into her, thrusting and thrusting until I’m emptied.

And that’s when I realize I didn’t use a condom.

I was going to wait until we’ve both calmed down until I bring it up but she beats me to it.

“We didn’t use anything,” she says softly as she raises her hips and climbs off of me.

“I always use something,” I tell her earnestly. “Always have. Just in case. But I’m clean. You can believe me on that.”

She nods. “So am I. You’ll have to take my word on that too.”

And of course I do. I’ll take her word on anything.

I lean over and kiss her gently. “It felt so good being bare inside you.” I rub the tip of my nose against her and she stares at me with big eyes. But if the intimacy scared her earlier, it’s not scaring her now.

She smiles and kisses me back. “Yes, it did.”

“So you took the dog to the park, eh?”

Both Riley and I spin around to see Fox standing by the sliding door. He’s not amused.

Riley doesn’t even move to cover up her breasts so I place my body in front of hers. “You’re back early,” I tell him.

“Yeah, I am,” he says. “And by the way, your dog ate one of my boots while you guys were…whatever.”

He turns around and heads back in, and through the glass door I can see Chewie staring at us with a proud look on her face.

“That dog,” I mutter to myself. “Good thing she’s cute.”

I look back at Riley.

“Does he care?” she asks.

“Who, Fox? Yeah but he’ll get over it. He has a lot of boots.”

“No, I mean about us.”

“Oh. Nah. He’ll probably high-five me later.”

“You guys are really playing up this whole bachelor pad thing, huh? You’re like Joey and Chandler.”

“Which one am I?”

She thinks for a moment. “Joey.”

“Aw man. But he’s dumb.”

“But he gets laid.”

“But Chandler gets laid too.”

“Yeah, with Janice and the woman with the missing leg.”

“He ends up with Monica.”

“Monica is batshit crazy.”

“Okay, so then Fox is Chandler.”

“No Fox is Ross. I barely know him, but I can tell you he’s one hundred per cent Ross Gellar.”

“But Joey never lived with Ross.”

“Yeah he did. Don’t you remember?”

“That was Rachel.”

“Oh yeah.”

Our conversation continues like this for a while until we both remember that Ross did in fact live with both Joey and Chandler for about three episodes, then when we start getting wrinkled from the water, we get out. I wrap her up in a big fuzzy towel, making sure Fox wasn’t looking, and we go inside. I throw a few logs on the fire, settle us both down on the bearskin rug, and have a beer.

Obviously, nothing else happens between us and we’re just sitting there chilling. Mainly because Fox is a weirdo and sits down on the living room couch with Chewie, staring at us and trying to make sure it’s all as awkward as possible. He succeeds. When it starts to get dark out later, I drive her home.

“Thanks for coming trail running with me,” I tell her as she steps out onto her sidewalk. “And, you know, the blow job and the hot tub sex.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” she says. “Tell Fox that next time he’s welcome to join us in the hot tub.”

“You don’t fucking mean that.” I am horrified.

She laughs, loud and contagious, and slams the door, giving me a quick wave before she hurries through the cold and into her house.

That little minx.