Deep Woods

Cal threw things down from the roof space one by one: some boots, a blue plaid shirt, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

He swung himself down and dropped to the floor, graceful despite his size. “They won’t fit,” he warned as he walked towards me, “But I figure we can make it work.”

I nodded and crouched down to gather up the clothes. Arms full, I glanced up...and swallowed.

He was right in front of me, no more than a foot away, and indoors, he seemed even bigger. He was gazing down at me and the look in his eyes took my breath away. He was looking at me, all disheveled and muddy and with twigs in my hair, as if I was the best thing he’d ever seen. I felt that silver string inside me pull tight and tremble. And there was something else in his eyes, fiery and primal. His eyes flicked to my breasts, to the bare thigh revealed by the dress. A wave of heat rippled down my body and slammed into my groin.

I stood up, very slowly. I was so close to him that I could feel the heat of his body and it was making me almost drunk. My eyes passed his muscled thighs and I thought about the way they’d spread me, thick and solid, if he pressed even one of them between my legs. I passed his hands, curled almost into fists with the tension, hands that could so easily grab me, lift me, position me just how he wanted. And then, it was impossible to avoid: the bulge at his crotch, the denim tight and straining right down to—oh wow.

I kept going, my eyes rising past his belt, past the taut flatness of his stomach and then up to the broad swells of his chest. My eyes roved left and right: he was so big, he filled my vision. The urge to step forward and rub myself full length against the hardness of his body was unbelievable. It was more than just lust. There was an indescribable feeling of rightness. As if, if I pressed myself to him, I’d fit exactly, his big body sheltering me from any storm.

I looked up and met his gaze. His eyes were blazing down at me and I swore I could feel the heat on my face. He was frowning. Why are you doing this to me?

I looked helplessly back at him. I’m not doing anything!

He finally looked away, breaking the spell. Flushing, I looked around for somewhere to change. Then I remembered that the cabin was one big room. Oh.

I saw realization cross Cal’s face. “I need to get some meat from the smoker,” he muttered, and left.

The smoker. That was what the weird chimney hut outside was. I stood there for a few seconds, my cheeks cooling. Then I hurried to get changed before he got back. But when I had the dress half undone, I noticed something that made me stop.

He’d taken time, maybe years, building this place and getting it exactly right. But there wasn’t a single personal item here. Not a picture of him drunk with buddies or with his family, not a lumpy ceramic mug made by a nephew for his birthday. Memories didn’t have a place here. He hadn’t just isolated himself physically, he’d obliterated his past.

And the only reason he’d do that was if his past was too painful to remember.

21

Cal

I PULLED a couple of venison steaks from the hooks in the smoker and took a deliberately slow walk back to the house, checking on the chickens and making sure the barn door was closed tight. That should be enough time, right? I rounded the corner and—

Through the window, I saw her standing in just bra and panties, looking off to the side. She was reaching behind her and just as my brain registered what I was seeing, just as I was thinking I shouldn’t be watching this, the bra came free and the breasts I’d spent the last few days—hell, the last six months—fantasizing about, were revealed. God, they were incredible, weighty and full, and topped with dark pink nipples.

I swallowed and stepped back around the corner of the house, the image of her burned into my mind. I counted to ten Mississipi. Okay, now she’s got to be dressed, right? I took a deep breath. I’d walk in there and pretend nothing had happened. I rounded the corner again—

She had her back to me, now. The panties were just falling to the floor to reveal her perfect, curvy rump. I stood there transfixed as she pulled the jeans up her legs, the milky cheeks of her ass swaying this way and that.

Yes, I kept watching. I’m only human, dammit.

She pulled on the t-shirt and then the plaid shirt and then I finally marched out of the darkness and opened the door. Inside, I busied myself slicing up the venison and frying it with an onion, mixing in water and beans and spices.