Caged (Mastered 4)

She caught him staring and said, “What?”

Offhandedly, he said, “Reminds me that I’d planned on giving you a pearl necklace, but not so early in our relationship.”

Molly’s face went bright red. Then she said, “You can finish coating me outside. It’ll give you a better angle to squirt all over my back.”

He groaned. “How am I supposed to hike with a hard-on?”

“You started it.”

He’d worn camo cargo shorts—handy for holding water bottles and snacks. Molly had slipped on a wide-brimmed straw hat, which would’ve looked ridiculous on other women, but she looked so damn cute in it he wanted to just eat her up.

After she tucked her cell phone in her pocket, she grinned at him, fairly bouncing in the toes of her hiking shoes. “You ready?”

Just to fuck with her, he squinted at the trail ahead. “Not enough trees to hide bears, but rattlesnakes are thick out here. Glad I’m armed.”

“You’re seriously carrying a gun right now?”

“I’m always packing. Wanna see?” He grinned. “I have to keep it hidden out of sight in my pants because it scares most women . . . and some men.”

She whapped him on the arm with the trail guide.

As they ascended the first hill and dropped into a section of the trail shaded by rock formations, he was thankful for the mild temperatures.

They didn’t talk much. Every time Molly wandered off the trail, Deacon went with her. She paid little attention to her surroundings besides searching for flowers, so he scoured the dense brush for snakes. He’d seen a few of these scraggly ground bushes around Texas.

He’d expected they’d take breaks—not that they were exerting themselves—but they stopped only upon reaching the summit.

A cool breeze blew up from the valley below. Molly took off her hat.

With the wind blowing through her hair, the late-afternoon rays shining on her, and the happiness on her face, Deacon couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Gorgeous,” he managed.

“It is pretty here.” She angled her head toward him. “But I’ll admit some disappointment.”

“What?” Deacon moved in behind her and set his hands on her hips.

“I thought there’d be meadows full of wildflowers. Like in the guidebook.”

“Did you wanna run through a field of wildflowers? Or did you see us rolling around naked in a meadow?”

Tilting her chin, she gazed at him coolly. “So what if I did?”

Deacon nibbled on the side of her neck. “I’d ask if you brought a condom.” He caught the scent of her skin beneath the sunscreen, and his dick started to stir.

“What if I told you I have one in my pocket right now?”

“Since there’s no field of wildflowers, I’d take you down to that rock outcropping.” He pointed to the area about four hundred yards downhill. “Once we were in the shadows, I’d yank your pants to your ankles and eat your pussy until you came against my mouth.” He paused to nuzzle the hollow below her ear. “Would you come quietly? Or would you scream loud enough to be heard across the valley?”

“I’ve never had a man make me come hard enough to scream.”

“That’s about to change.”

Molly wheeled around and kissed him with near brutality. Clawing at his chest. Rocking her pelvis into his.

Voices on the trail brought a fast dose of reality. As much as Deacon hated the interruption, he needed it—they both did.

But he wouldn’t let her break away from him. He kept his arm around her shoulder and whispered, “Soon,” into her hair.

•   •   •

SOON.

What did that even mean?

It hadn’t meant Deacon ravaging her in his SUV after they finished hiking. He said he needed to satisfy his appetite for food first. So did that mean he’d satisfy his other appetite as soon as they left the restaurant?

“Babe.”

She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“You okay?”

“Just tired. The trailhead sign should’ve said six miles, not a three-mile loop. Not that it’s a big deal to you, since you run a billion miles a week—”

“Running ain’t hiking. I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

“Such a sweet lie.”

The waitress returned and flirted with Deacon.

“I brought the dessert menu.” She slid it in front of Molly. “I don’t eat dessert myself since modeling is so competitive I can’t afford to put on a single pound.” She turned her simpering smile on Molly. “But I’ve heard the chocolate gold-rush dessert is delicious.”