Chapter Eighteen

Calla

“He’s fine, Calla. The man knows what he’s doing,” I said, as I laid out the cards I had found for another round of solitaire.

After Jake had left, I had tried to write, but I was too preoccupied with his safety. It was dark, cold and dangerous out there. If something happened to him, who would save him? He was the saver. He couldn’t be the one in need of saving. I was certainly of no help. I wouldn’t even know who to call to report him missing.

I realized I was completely dependent on the man. That was dangerous. I picked up my tea and sipped the hot liquid. It burned all the way down my throat. It wasn’t the heat causing the fire in my belly. It was the whiskey I had added to the cup. I had scoured his cupboards and found the box of peppermint tea. I didn’t know how old it was, but didn’t care. The tea was really only a carrier for the whiskey since I didn’t want to straight-shot the harsh liquor.

The sound of stomping on the porch grabbed my attention. I froze, my hand in the air, ready to put down a card. Casper didn’t growl, but his tail thumped against the ground.

“Thank God,” I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. I knew it had to be Jake because the dog would have growled had it been someone else.

The door swung open and Casper raced to greet his master.

“Hi,” I said with a smile, hoping he was in a better mood.

He walked in, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the hook behind the stove.

“Can I make you some tea?” I asked.

He looked at me, the table where I had my game of solitaire spread out and then the cup in my hand. “You’ve made yourself right at home,” he murmured.

I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. The expression on his face gave me no hints. I decided to ignore it and make the tea anyway. I grabbed the pot of hot water off the stove, being careful not to get too close to him as he finished taking off the rest of his gear.

I made the tea, added a healthy amount of whiskey and waited for him to finish.

“What are you playing?” he asked, using his head to point at the table.

I shrugged, “Solitaire.”

“I thought you didn’t like cards.”

“I don’t really, but it was better than sitting here in the dark with absolutely nothing to do.”

I handed him the cup. He walked to the table and sat in the other chair, sipping the tea. “Holy shit. That’s stout. Is that what you’re drinking?”

I smiled and nodded. “I’ll owe you a bottle of whiskey when this is all done.”

“I can teach you a card game,” he volunteered.

“Sounds fun,” I purred, more than happy to play cards with him.

He raised an eyebrow at my tone. “Poker is easy enough to learn.”

I nodded. “I’ve watched it played and I’ve played it on an electronic game. I kind of know the basics.”

He smiled. “There are many different kinds of poker.”

“Oh, well, go easy on me then.”

“We won’t be betting.”

“Good. I have a feeling I would lose everything,” I said, taking a healthy drink from my cup of tea.

He ran over the basics of the game and dealt a few practice hands before we really started playing. It wasn’t hard, but I didn’t have the attention span to pay a lot of attention to what he may or may not have.

“Ready to up the ante a little?” he asked.

The whiskey had given me a nice buzz, so I was up for anything. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

“Strip poker.”

I grinned. The man had a lot more clothes on than I did, but I didn’t mind a bit. I think we both knew he was a better player and I would be naked in no time. “Okay, but no cheating,” I winked.

“I don’t think I’m going to have to cheat,” he replied.

Immediately, I lost the first hand, which wasn’t a big surprise. I was wearing a t-shirt, his pants and his socks. I could see the gleam in his eye as he waited for me to take off a piece of clothing.

“I’ll take off a sock,” I said with a smile, knowing he had expected something a bit more revealing.

“Has to be both socks. Socks are a pair and count as one piece of clothing,” he said, with all seriousness.

“Fine,” I said as I nodded my head. I had no problem getting naked for the man. Off came the socks while he dealt the next hand.

I lost again. “Shirt,” I said, pulling the shirt over my head.

His eyes were on my naked breasts, greedily staring. I could feel my nipples harden and stand at attention, and it had nothing to do with the room temperature. It was plenty warm in the cabin.

“Ready to try again?” he asked in a husky voice.

I nodded my head, “Bring it on.”

The whiskey was really flowing, but I needed more. I slowly stood up and leaned across the table to grab his cup. My breasts hung dangerously close to his face. I heard his sharp intake of breath and gave a little wiggle to bounce them in front of his face.

With both cups in hand, I walked to the kitchen and made us a couple more drinks before slowly walking back to the table. His eyes were on me the entire time.

“Ready,” I declared after taking another drink.

He dealt the cards. I was really hoping I would win at least one hand. While I was all for being naked with him, I wanted to see his body as well.

He slammed his cards down. “Pair of eights.”

I had no idea if I held anything good or not. “Do I win?” I asked, putting my cards on the table.

He chuckled. “Not even close. Strip.”

“Okay,” I said, standing up. I slowly pulled the long johns down my legs. I put one foot on the chair and pulled that pant leg off before repeating the action with the other leg. With the pants off, I raised my arms and slowly turned around. “I guess you win.”

I sat back in the chair and waited. My heart was racing as I wondered what he would do next. I could see the fire in his eyes and I silently begged him not to leave me hanging.

“Yeah, I won,” he repeated, in a strained voice.

I smiled, took another drink of the fiery liquid, licked my lips and looked at him. “Now, what?”

“Truth or Dare,” he said.

I blinked. That was not what I had expected, but I was all too happy to play another round.

“Dare,” I whispered. If he pulled the same stunt he had last night, I would find a way to get revenge.

“Pleasure yourself,” he said, in a low, husky voice.

My initial reaction was hell no. That was way too embarrassing. I couldn’t do that, not in front of him at least. Or could I? I glanced around the room, taking in the rather muted lighting from the few candles I had left burning after I shut off the glaring lantern. It created the perfect ambiance for a little walk on the wild side. I could definitely get into it I decided.

The whiskey was burning through my veins, making me feel far more daring than I normally would be.

“Okay,” I said, surprising myself as the words crossed my lips.

I ran a hand over one breast and then the other before bringing up my second hand. In tandem, I slowly massaged each breast, running my nipples between my fingers. I dropped one breast and ran the hand down my stomach, reaching between my legs.

He growled. “I can’t see!”

I nodded, understanding he needed the full show. I stood, scooted my chair to the side and sat down again. I no longer had the safety of the table hiding me. I was terrified and excited at the same time. I moved the hand back between my legs and fumbled a bit.

“Do it, Calla. I want to see your fingers sliding inside. I want to watch you make yourself cum.”

Nodding, I continued, encouraged by his demands. I opened my legs a little wider and ran a finger down my slit. I felt myself grow wet. With another gentle motion, I ran the same finger up my slit, barely touching myself. The feathery touch sent a shiver down my spine. My legs opened wider while my other hand cupped my breast and pinched my nipple.

I slid my butt forward on the chair and leaned back, giving myself greater access to my core. His eyes widened at the scene before him. My finger slid back and forth before parting the folds, guarding my core. With one finger, I tested the wetness, barely moving inside. I brushed over my clit, pulling a gasp from deep inside.

“More,” he demanded.

I could feel myself losing control. I watched his eyes move over my body, focused on my pussy. I dropped my breast, spread my legs to straddle the chair and opened my pussy lips with two fingers before pushing another finger inside.

I moaned at the pleasure. His gaze was so intense, it felt as if he was creating a fire between my legs with his hot look of pure, unadulterated passion. My finger moved in and out, slowly at first, rubbing and stroking the clit. My head dropped back to rest on the chair back as my fingers administered sheer pleasure to my swollen pussy.

“Another,” he demanded.

I didn’t ask what he meant and pushed another finger inside and jerked forward.

“Fuck!” I cried out.

“More, Calla.”

I moved the two fingers in and out, my juices pooling in the seat. I could feel the orgasm brewing. Part of me wanted to hold out, to wait for him to finish it, but the other part of me was lost in the moment. I couldn’t stop. I moved my fingers in and out, pushing against my clit with each slide inside.

“Ohhh,” I moaned, my head rolling back and forth across the chair.

“Keep going. Spread your legs.”

My legs were trying to close, to trap my fingers inside. I consciously made the effort to open them wider, giving me unfettered access deep inside.

“Pinch your nipples,” he ordered.

I opened my eyes, met his and moved one wet hand covered in pussy juices up to my breasts. I pulled my fingers out of myself and rubbed them over my nipples before violently pinching both. The pain pulled a cry from my throat. My throbbing pussy demanded attention again. I closed my legs, squeezing my thighs together as I slid back and forth on the chair.

“Finger fuck yourself,” his voice cut through the haze.

I moaned, “Fuck me, Jake, please. I need you.”

“No. I want to see you make yourself cum.”

Yelling in frustration before spreading my legs and pushing a single finger inside. I sat up in the chair and looked down at what I was doing. The sight of my finger pushing inside me was extremely erotic. I looked up to see him watching intently. His head popped up and he looked at me for a split second before dropping his gaze again.

I spread my legs wider and pushed a second finger inside. My new position made it possible for me to push in deep. I was panting with the coming orgasm, ready to ride the wave on my own. I no longer cared if he gave it to me. I was lost.

Furiously, I rubbed over my clit, my hand moving so fast I could feel it cramping as I pushed harder and higher. When the climax shattered over me I cried out, over and over. As my body unclenched, I leaned back in the chair, feeling a great deal of satisfaction.

“I came,” I announced, as if he didn’t know.

He nodded, not speaking.

I closed my eyes and let my body slowly come down from the high I had just experienced. It had been the best round of masturbation I had ever experienced—all because of my audience. I had no idea it could be that good.