Chapter Eleven
Xander
The music filled the small room of the cabin, and Bailey swayed perfectly to the beat. Her long legs, now bare, pink and fleshy…fuck, they were killing me. Her eyes were locked onto mine, and even though I wanted to pull away from our stare, I was frozen. It was as if she had me in a trance, one that I didn’t mind being entangled in.
“You need to take it easy on that ankle,” I uttered, clearing my throat as I spoke.
She giggled. Damn, those pink lips curling into a smile drove me wild. My eyes drifted from hers, finally freed from the lock she had on them, and moved accidentally to her long legs. My t-shirt dropped to her upper thigh, high enough to allow me the sweet view of her curved flesh. I pulled my eyes away, quickly turning to the sink.
“There are still a few dishes,” she insisted.
A skillet, one used over the flame, cast iron, and used only to house the food inside the foil. It wasn’t dirty. A glass from my whiskey the night before, and that was it. There wasn’t enough to do in there to excuse her being up on her feet on that bad ankle. If I was ever going to get her off this mountain, she would need her strength, all of it. The mountain wasn’t a forgiving one, even when not covered in slick snow.
“I’ll get this stuff later,” I insisted, moving towards her cautiously.
My hands rested on her shoulders, stopping her from her wiggling to the music, and causing her to lock onto my eyes once again. They were so green, so pure, so trusting. I was an ass for taking advantage of her the way I had. I’d beat myself up all week over that night. I knew better. She was helpless, trusting me to care for her, and she didn’t even remember her own name. What had I been thinking? Not again. I swore I’d never do that again.
She stood there, her big green eyes batting in my direction, her lips full and pouty, and her nipples hardening beneath the cotton of my t-shirt she wore. Damn, she was beautiful. Maybe once she regained her strength, and her memory, maybe then I’d kiss that mouth again. Hell, she probably had someone who loved her already, someone who was devastated about her being lost. It was doubtful a girl like Bailey didn’t have someone looking for her, wanting nothing more than to hold her in their arms again. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, but keeping her here like this, taking advantage of her vulnerable state, that wasn’t my style. She deserved better.
“I’m gonna get more wood ready before the next storm hits,” I choked out as my throat started to close.
She looked disappointed, but still relentless with her seductive eyes and lips. Fuck!
“Want some help?” she asked sweetly, her hand resting on her hip as it cocked outward. Damn, those curves. My cock was twitching against the denim of my jeans, begging for release, for satisfaction. I needed some air.
“No, you’re hardly dressed for chopping wood,” I chuckled.
Her tight nipples pushed against the thin material of the shirt as her lips parted to release a sweet sigh. I watched her eyes roll, and then the sweetest laugh fell from her lips. Yeah, I need air, and fast!
“You stay here, warm up,” I teased, allowing my eyes to move to her breasts.
She quickly wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself, and hiding the hardened nipples from my view as she blushed. Her cheeks turned the sweetest pink, reminding me of the flash between her legs. I quickly turned away from her before my erection was noticed, and grabbed my coat and gloves by the door. I walked outside without looking back, before finishing the last button on my coat, or even putting on my gloves. The cold air was violent, but welcoming as it calmed my cock and cleared my mind.
I pulled on my hat, slid on my gloves, and grabbed the axe. I’d split plenty of wood to last a few days earlier that morning, but it was an excuse to get away from her, so I took it.
My arms felt so tight and heavy as I took the first swing. My eyes stared towards the cabin and into the window, but no sign of Bailey. I knew she was inside, probably wondering why I’d avoided her so blatantly, but it was for her own good and for the good of whoever was looking for her.
Snow started to fall in light flakes as the sky darkened above me. It was still early, but any sign of the sun was gone, and the air reflected that. Wind blew through the trees, shaking them with an eerie dance. I still hadn’t been here long enough to know everything that lurked in the woods, so I lowered my axe and listened towards the rustling. It wasn’t a familiar wind, but something else, something probably hungry on this desolate mountainside.
The bushes shook violently, causing the layered snow to fall from either side. I gripped my axe, waiting for whatever lurked towards me to leap out, but nothing. It was silent, eerily silent, and suddenly not even the wind stirred the forest surrounding me. I shook it off, figuring it may have been a bird caught in the brush, or some other small animal looking for shelter, spooked by my scent, my presence in what should be home only to the creatures that lived in the trees, and beneath the earth in holes.
I took a few more swings, splitting logs as quickly as I could position them on the stump in front of me. Axe in the air, high above my head and ready to drop down on the next log, a rustling of the same bush revealed an angry coyote, hungry and ready to fight for its territory—or possible dinner. Without time to react, the axe came down, slamming into the coyotes back as his teeth clenched onto my shoulder, tearing through the thick coat and into my skin. I fell to my back, the animal on top of me, and felt it go limp as the axe wound took effect. I rolled him from my chest, sat up, and guarded the area where he’d leaped from, my hands tightly gripped on the axe I ripped from his back. They were known to travel together, to hunt together, but this one appeared to be alone. I felt bad for the creature as I watched his blood coat the white snow, taking note of the ribs that were so visible in his empty stomach. He was hungry, probably desperate for food after enduring the storm, and young enough that he’d probably just had his first taste of the bitter cold of the mountains of Maine, and unfortunately, his last.
My grandfather taught me to lever let an animal go to waste, and to use everything, otherwise the kill was in vain. This wasn’t a planned kill, or a hunt, but I still had the responsibility of treating the animal with respect, even though he’d tried to chew through my tough shoulder. It ached, but I’d tend to that later. I walked into my shed, gathered my knives, and cleaned the coyote of his warm pelt. It would make a nice hat, maybe some furring strips for my boots, or Bailey’s when we finally decided to make it down the mountain.
Eating coyote wasn’t making me excited, but if we ended up stuck here for much longer, meat was going to be scarce. I cringed as I cleaned him out, finding my assumptions of his starvation were on target. I worked my knife along his bones, slicing any usable meat from his humble frame, and tossed it in a bucket. His carcass was going to do nothing but attract more animals, so I grabbed as shovel, and drug it deeper into the woods. I found a spot to bury him, nearly breaking my back to loosen the frozen ground.
I walked back into the house carrying the bucket and a load of wood, the felt over my shoulder. Bailey’s eyes widened as I entered, her petite frame frozen in front of me.
“What happened?” she gasped, her feet breaking free and moving her towards me.
The look in her eyes gave me a strange feeling in my gut, one I hadn’t experienced before. Her hand rested on my shoulder, gently smoothing her palm over my coat. She pulled it back, my blood on her, and her eyes filled with concern.
“It was just a hungry coyote,” I explained, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. Compared to what I’d lived through, it was nothing. It was clear she felt otherwise. I chuckled as I moved towards the sink, leaving the bucket of meat on the counter. I slung the felt from my shoulder, slapping it on the counter next to the bucket, and then moved towards the fireplace where I dropped off the load of wood.
“You’re hurt,” she gasped, grabbing a clean towel from the shelf near the sink. She ran water over it, wringing it out several times, and then rushed into the bathroom while I undressed from my outer clothes.
My shoulder ached as I stretched my arm from the heavy coat, and once removed, it was obvious the coyote got a piece of me before he met his demise. Shit!
While Bailey rustled around in the bathroom, I tended to the items I delivered to the kitchen. I rinsed the meat, leaving the bucket filled with water once done, and added some salt so it could brine overnight.
I turned to grab the felt and was stopped by Bailey, who now stood in front of me with determination in her eyes. She held a bottle of alcohol, the rag, and stared into my eyes fiercely. It was obvious she wasn’t going to allow me to walk away, so I didn’t try.
“Take off your shirt,” she ordered.
I gripped the hem of my t-shirt with my left hand, avoiding using my right. I didn’t want her to see me flinch. I was the man, the tough one, the one who was supposed to protect and care for her. I wasn’t comfortable on this side, but that feeling in my gut was still there, warming me strangely.
I watched her eyes shift and then narrow as I exposed my wound. It wasn’t too deep, just superficial, but it felt as though a muscle was chewed through as my arm dangled beside me.
“Where did it come from?” she asked, dabbing alcohol onto the rag.
I couldn’t control the cringe when the alcohol touched my open flesh, causing her to pull back quickly.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded.
“It’s okay, just stings a little. He was in the bush, probably starving for a meal out here on this frozen mountainside,” I replied, closing my eyes to suck up the pain while she continued cleaning out my wound.
“You could’ve been killed,” she exclaimed, her eyes wider than I’d ever seen as I looked up into them.
I chuckled. “Doubtful a little coyote was gonna get the better of me.”
Her head shook slightly as her lips curled into a delicious smile. I wanted to lean up and kiss her, to taste her.
“It’s too dangerous for you to live up here all alone. What if something bad happened, and no one was here?” she questioned.
“They usually leave people alone. It’s just a bad time, and he was hungry. It wasn’t so bad, and I can handle myself,” I insisted, feeling my pride push through in my voice.
“Still, it worries me you out here alone,” she whispered.
That look in her eyes stirred that feeling in my gut. My heart swelled, my breathing sped up, and blood pumped wildly through my veins. It was strange having someone care so much. I couldn’t completely say I hated it, although it was still uncomfortable for my ego.
“Thank you,” I smiled, reaching up and gripping her hand in mine.
“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Do you have any more bandages?”
I nodded, motioning towards the cabinet under the sink. I watched as she bent over, opening the door and reaching for the box. Her t-shirt lifted, exposing her bare ass. My cock twitched at the sight of her smooth skin, and when she lifted, turning towards me, I felt my cheeks starting to blush.
Her eyes narrowed, a sexy smirk rushed to her face, and her own cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink.
“Were you peeking?” she teased.
I chuckled. My throat started to close as I cleared it. The heat in my cheeks increased, and there was no hiding the fact I’d stolen a peek at her round, pink ass.
“Sorry,” I choked.
Her hips wiggled excitedly, and I couldn’t help but notice her nipples hardening beneath the cotton of her shirt. “I don’t mind,” she giggled.
She leaned in, straddling my leg as she worked on placing the bandage around my shoulder. I’d already forgotten about it, no longer feeling any pain. All I felt was blood rush between my legs and my cock harden against the denim.
“I know you’ve been trying to get me to look all week,” I teased.
“And have ya?” she urged.
“Yes,” I hesitated.
She stood back, still straddling my leg at the knee, and stared into my eyes with curiosity.
“Why haven’t you done anything about it?” she wooed.
I swallowed hard, feeling her body’s warmth against my leg, and the pressure of her seduction luring my cock to full mast.
“You’re not in any shape to be making those kinda life choices,” I lectured, sounding very similar to my high school guidance counselor when he caught me smoking pot.
“I’m a grown woman,” she retorted.
A sigh pushed from my throat as I took a deep look into her bright green eyes. They were no longer filled with innocence, but instead strength that drove me wild.
“You don’t even know if someone’s looking for you. I don’t want you to mess up your life,” I warned.
She giggled, moving in closer to me, her hardened nipples dangerously close to my lips.
“I can handle myself,” she mocked in a sultry voice.
Wow, that caught my cock’s attention, holding it in anticipation of what was next. I knew if she continued, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.
“You keep this up, and I’m liable to believe you,” I shot with a smirk.
Oh hell, there was that smile, and those fucking eyes filled with desire. She moved even closer lowering her body to my leg, pressing her warm pussy against me so I could feel the heat even through my denim.
I gripped the bottom of the t-shirt, pulling it away from her body, and stared up at her with eyes that begged for mercy.
“Believe me,” she whispered.
Oh, how I wanted to believe her, to believe she wasn’t vulnerable, that this was okay.
I paused, maybe too long. I watched her eyes fade and her bottom lip pout outward and to the floor. She lifted herself from my leg, stepping back slightly. My hand was still gripped around the hem of the t-shirt she wore, and as she moved, my fingers grazed the soft, plump flesh of her pussy. She sighed so sweetly that my cock nearly jumped from my lap towards her.
My grip released from her shirt as we both stared into each other’s eyes with a hunger and desire that was obviously not faltering.
I couldn’t stop what was about to happen, even though a part of me, a very small part that was buried deep inside, wanted to.