Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance (21 page)

“Two years,” I said.  “I didn’t want to leave state, and U
of A didn’t have a lot I was interested in.”

“Because you’re interested in fishing.  And sex,” he said.

More or less
.  The way that word sounded issuing from
between his scrumptious lips made my eyes nearly roll back in my head.

He took my nipple in his mouth, and I almost came off the
bed.  He sucked it and licked it, and flicked with his hot, wet tongue, making
me practically cry with need.  I had big handfuls of his thick black hair, and
my legs moved restlessly along the outsides of his.  My pussy was dripping; I
could feel myself making a wet spot on his blanket.  I needed him inside me,
pretty damn urgently.

“Please,” I moaned.

His mouth popped free.  “What’s your favorite color?” he
asked.

“Fucking hell!” I panted.  “Red!”  This man was going to
drive me to an early grave.

“Favorite movie?”

I groaned.  “What is this, a date?”

He pulled his mouth free again, and I glanced down to find
him looking at me.  His lips were wet and reddened, and he had one brow raised
in a look that said ‘What? You want me to stop?’

“Son-of-a-bitch.”  I hadn’t been calling him one, but he
nipped me anyway, making me jump.  “Kill Bill,” I said.

His laughter shook the bed.  Which was irritating, because
every moment he was laughing, his lips and tongue weren’t at work.  I wished I
had a whip.

“How can you expect me to give you all this info when you
won’t give any yourself?” I groused.

“Hmm.”  His hand was drifting lower, making me oh-so-hopeful. 
“Parents are alive.  Missoula, Montana.  Thirty-one.  Didn’t go to college. 
Green—”

“Your middle name,” I said.  “You skipped your middle name,
you cheat.  And why don’t you give me your last, while you’re at it.”  Was it
irresponsible of me not to have gathered the last name of my lover? 
Probably.

He grimaced.  “Middle’s Gabriel.  First is actually Gareth. 
Last is,” he sighed, “Sweet.”

I waited for it, this sweet last name of his.  I raised my
brows.

“Sweet.  My last name is Sweet.  Gareth Gabriel Sweet.”

Oh, this was good.  This was better than Jolene.  “Sweet?  I
bet that was a fun name to have in the military.  ‘Get down and gimme fifty,
Sweet’,” I mocked.

He nipped me again.  “And for the movie,” he said, “Full
Metal Jacket.”

I didn’t know what that was, but it sounded like a guy flick. 

His hand paused.  “You haven’t watched it?”

Was I really so transparent?  I shook my head, desperately
hoping he’d put his mouth to better use than talking about
movies
.

“You’ll like it.  There’s lots of cussing.  And you’re gonna
watch it with me someday;
that’s
a date.”

I swallowed hard, looking into his eyes.  Did that mean this
was more than just sex to him, too?

He put his mouth back on me, running his tongue over my
hardened nipples until I was blowing hard, my hips undulating under him.  “I
wonder if I can make you cum just from this,” he said.  Yeah, he’d probably
caught on to the fact that every time he put his mouth on my breasts, I
detonated.

And yeah, that’d be fun…but I didn’t want to go that way.  I
wanted him inside me, wanted him to relieve that empty ache that seemed to grow
the longer he was away.

“I need you,” I said, my voice pleading, trying to express this
raging mountain of need in three little words, willing him to understand.

He was hard again; I felt him pressing into my thigh.

“You need me?”  He sounded kinda surprised, kinda pleased,
kinda amused.

I nodded.  “Inside me.  Please.”

“‘Please’?  You must want it bad.”

I was nodding hard before he even finished speaking.

“You know, that word sounds real pretty coming from you,” he
said.  “Can I hear it one more time?”

He was doing it again, pulling that power play crap.  And
maybe usually I would have told him to eat shit and die.  But not right now. 
Right now, he had me by the short hairs.  I was so far gone, I didn’t give a
damn.  I wanted what he could give me, and I’d beg, if that’s what he wanted.

“Please,” I repeated.

“Since you asked so nicely.”  He pushed up onto his knees,
and groped around on the bed until he found the condom packet.  My heart was
thudding as I met his gaze, as I watched him tear it open, and roll the condom
down over himself.

And the bastard knew exactly how much I wanted him—damn my
transparent face—because he did it all so
slowly
.  And smugly.  Watching
me spread my legs for him with half-lidded eyes.  He was all suited up and
ready to go—and then he paused.

“How do you want it?” he asked.

“Inside me,” I said with deadly sweetness.  My sass
definitely came and went.

“I’ll let you try that again,” he said.  “How do you want
it?  And say please.”

I don’t know why this poured out of my mouth.  After all,
what I wanted was for him to fuck the hell out of me until I didn’t even know
my own name.  Maybe I thought it’d be a challenge for him; maybe I thought it
was the opposite of what
he
wanted.

I don’t know, but what I said was:  “Slow.  Please.”

Why
did I say that?  Because do you know what he did?

The fucker made love to me.

 

 

Chapte
r Eighteen

 

I
don’t think this had ever happened to me before.  I had sex.  I fucked.  I even
screwed and got laid and…well, you get the idea.  But slow?  Gentle?  In a way
I actually liked?  As a man held my gaze, and held me so close I could tell he
only wanted me closer, and kissed me softly, with a lingering sweetness I’d
probably be grinning about for days?

That shit didn’t happen to Helly.  But today…this morning—or
it might have been afternoon by now—it surely did.

Have you ever had one of those epiphanies that sort of
redefines things for you?  Of course you have.  Like the moment you realize
your own mortality, or that demand determines price; something big.

Well, this was like that, except what I realized was that
maybe there was somebody out there for me; somebody that got me, somebody that
spoke my language, somebody that jived with my particular brand of crazy.  And
maybe, just maybe, that somebody was my loud-ass neighbor.

Suddenly I was thinking really, really hard about Suzy’s
suggestion. 
Keep him.

It was in the aftermath of this colossal revelation, as I
lay there under him wondering what the hell I was supposed to say after someone
so totally rocked my world, that he lifted his head.

I talk about getting lost in Gary’s eyes a lot, but that’s
exactly what happens.  I get utterly sidetracked, I lose track of time.  I
forget to breathe.

His hand came up to cradle my cheek as his eyes searched
mine.  His mouth opened, and I knew he was about to say something
earth-shattering.

But then something must have caught his eye, because he
lifted his head further, turning it to peer out his bedroom window.  “It looks
like one of your brothers is back,” he said.  “The one who likes to fight.”

“Oh shit.”  I sidled out from underneath him, rolled out
from under the mosquito net, and scooped up my clothes.

He lay back on the bed, watching me from behind the
netting.  “Why are we sneaking around like teenagers?” he asked as I yanked my
shirt into place.

I paused with one leg through my skirt.  “I don’t know.” 
Shaking my head, I pulled my clothes the rest of the way on, and stomped into
my shoes.  I took two steps toward the door, and then stopped.

I turned, crossed to the bed, flipped the mosquito net up,
and crawled up until I could kiss him.  His hands came up to either side of my
face, and he kissed me back.

I didn’t want to leave.  It was amazing;
he
was
amazing.  I’d only known him a couple weeks, I’d hated him for at least half
that time, and yet… I was starting to have trouble imagining my lake without
him.

But my brother was over there, noticing I was gone, probably
wondering where I was.  Maybe one of them had gotten hurt, or maybe they needed
more ammo, or…

I had to go.  But I didn’t want to leave.

I moaned a protest, and Gary laughed.  I couldn’t quite kiss
him with his mouth stretched open, so I kissed the dent in his chin instead.  Stupid,
kissable dent.  God, I loved the feel of his stubble.

“Go,” he said.

I firmed my resolve, and finally edged back off the bed.  Then
I ran out of his cabin, along the lake, and up to my place.

The door swung open as I reached the bottom of my steps. 
J.D. stopped short, his gaze traveling over me.  Loose, totally mussed hair,
check.  Reddened cheeks, reddened lips, chafe marks on my neck?  Check.  Skirt,
when I never wore skirts?  Check.  Guilty expression?  Oh yeah.

His gaze flicked from me over to Gary’s cabin.  Of all my
brothers, J.D. was the least clueless.  He’d figured out there was something
going on between Gary and I when we’d been practicing holds, and heck, maybe
before.  He knew exactly what I’d been doing.

The corner of his mouth kicked up, and he just said, “Having
a good morning?”

“Yeah.”  My grin couldn’t be stifled.  But I’d noticed he
had two dark, crusty streaks on his face that looked suspiciously like war
paint.  “Tell me that’s not bear blood,” I said.

“It’s not,” he said obligingly. 
Liar
.  “But we need
a good knife, a saw, Ziplocs if you have them, and some backpacks or bags.”

I hurried to get the requested items, changed into some
sturdy clothes, and spent the rest of the afternoon dealing with a dead bear. 
We got it skinned and beheaded—the Board of Fish and Game would want to see
those—and the legs detached.  We carved the good stuff off of the rest of the
carcass, and packed it all into bags for the trip back to my cabin.  The bones
and intestines, we dumped into the river.

We got the rest back to my cabin.  Over the next couple
hours, I carved meat and loaded it into my maimed freezer.  Bear meat was gamy
and tough, but I wasn’t the pickiest eater.

We were finally done with the bear fiasco around seven in
the evening.  My brothers had pulled out the filet mignon pieces and were
insisting on barbecued bear steaks for dinner.  They wanted a fire, and they
wanted to sit around it in camp chairs while they barbecued.

I sighed, but gracefully gave in.  I stank of bear guts and
blood, and wanted nothing more than to take a shower.

But first, I called Suzy and begged her to come.  “Please,
Suzy.  Don’t leave me alone with them,” I said, after explaining the incidents
with the bear.  My brothers were moving in and out of the cabin, getting things
set up, so they could probably hear most of what I said, but I didn’t care.

“What are you having with these bear steaks?” she asked,
wavering.  She’d already confirmed she hadn’t eaten, but dinner company
included my
brothers
, whose mischief was the stuff of legend.

“What do you want?”  I was ready to do some heavy-duty
negotiating to get her here.

“Blueberry pie?”

I groaned as she reminded me that my blueberry patch was
currently blackened and dead.  But I still had a few quart bags of the good
stuff in my freezer.  “Deal,” is what I said.  “You come and I’ll make you a
blueberry pie.”

“Gimme a few minutes and I’ll be there,” she said.

I did a fist pump.  “I need to take a quick shower, and I’ll
come pick you up at the river.”  I’d pick her up in a sedan chair if it meant
I’d have someone intelligent to talk to.

We signed off, and I jumped in the shower to scrub the blood
off myself.  Then I got dressed in fresh clothes—my skirt was still lying
discarded across the foot of my bed, and the sight of it made me smile—and
hopped on my four-wheeler.

“Don’t burn anything down while I’m gone,” I instructed. 
“I’m going to get Suzy.”

“Your friend, Suzy?” Zack asked.

“We haven’t seen her in years,” Rory added.

“I know.”  And there was a reason for that.  Shaking my
head, I went and picked up my friend.

When we got back, my brothers had a merry fire burning, and
flames leapt from the barbecue.

“I’ve gotta throw in the pie,” I told Suzy.  “You can come
if you want, or…” I gestured at my brothers, who were standing around the fire
talking, their eyes on us.  My mind painted in leather loincloths, war paint,
and a writhing, wailing woman tied to a pole at the center.

Yeah, she came with me.  We whipped that pie together in
record time.  It was gonna take an hour to bake, and then at least a few
minutes to cool.  Heathens that we were, my brothers and I had a habit of
eating pies when they were still hot.

Suzy and I stepped back outside.  When we moved to sit, J.D.
stepped in front of me.  He jerked his chin toward Gary’s place.  “Wanna invite
the neighbor?” he asked, face inscrutable.

I hesitated, unsure what to do.  Yes, I had great sex with
the neighbor.  Yes, I’d decided I actually kinda liked him.  But two thirds of
the brothers still didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure if I could keep from giving myself
away.

What’s more, if Gary came, I might wind up neglecting my
friend.  I glanced down at Suzy to see what she thought.  She’d parked herself
in a camp chair and Rory had already handed her a beer.  She had a little smile
on her face, and she nodded, encouraging me.  What a little matchmaker she was
turning out to be.

So I walked my happy ass over to the neighbor’s.  I walked
slowly, very aware of the noise and conversation behind me, and the silence
ahead.  I wasn’t real sure what Gary was up to, but this would be a first, me
inviting him to something—that didn’t involve getting naked and sweaty.

I could have just walked around the back and stepped up into
his cabin, but I decided to be polite, and I rapped at his door.  He answered
wearing the same clothes I’d so recently watched him shuck off.  Just the sight
of him standing in the shadows of his doorway made my tongue stick to the roof
of my mouth.

I glanced back toward the fire, wondering if I could get
away with pushing him back into the cabin and kissing the hell out of him.  But
at least two sets of eyes were on me.  Dammit.

“We’re having a fire and barbecue.  Bear steaks and
blueberry pie.  You’re invited,” I said.

“You’re inviting me?” he asked.

I nodded slowly.  “I’m inviting you.”

“Well, isn’t that something.”

I stepped back.  “If you don’t want to come…”

“No, I do.  I’d love to,” he added.  And I could see in his
eyes he really meant it.

Shit.  Did
this
count as a date?  Had I just invited
my sexy-ass neighbor to dinner?

Feeling flustered, I stumbled sideways down his front steps. 
“Well…when you’re ready.  They’ll be putting the steaks on soon.”

“I’ll be over in a few,” he said.

Nodding, I fled back the way I’d come.

When I got back, the brothers had shifted to the other side
of the fire and surrounded Suzy.  Zack was sitting on one side, Rory on the
other, and they were talking her ears off.  But she was laughing, so I didn’t
know whether or not I should save her.

“She’s fine,” J.D. said, handing me a beer.

I wondered when he’d gotten so perceptive.  Then I sat, and
watched my two brothers charm the hell out of my friend.  Which was crazy.  My
friend
hated
my brothers.  But there she sat, seemingly enjoying their
company.  How could that be?  They were rude, stinky idiots.  Was it their
looks?

I squinted at Zack and Rory, trying to look at them
objectively.  They were blonde like me.  I guess their features were even
enough, and they were in pretty good shape.  Tallish… eh, I still didn’t see
it.

“What’s that look for?” Gary asked, dropping into the chair
next to me.

I jumped and glanced over at him with surprise.  For such a
loud man, he could be remarkably quiet.

“Them,” I said, gesturing toward my friend and brothers with
my beer.  “Suzy hates my brothers.”

“She doesn’t look like she hates them,” Gary offered.

“No.”  I snagged one of the last beers, and handed it to
him.

“Why does she hate them?” he asked.

“Suzy’s been my friend since the fourth grade,” I said. 
“And my brothers have always been troublemakers.  The last time she saw them—I
think she was twelve, maybe—one of them stuck a frog down her shirt.”

Gary smiled.  “Sounds about right.”

“They have quite a reputation for trouble,” I said. 
“Especially shooting things and setting them on fire.  Did you know they sank
my last canoe?”

He shook his head.

“It was just last year.  They came back from fishing with
the bottom of my canoe looking like Swiss cheese, and some crazy story about a
bear.”

“Hey, we almost died that day,” Rory called across the fire.

“Yeah, I almost killed you,” I agreed.

“No, I mean for real.  And it wasn’t our fault.  There was
this bear, and…you want me to just tell you the story?” Rory asked.  He looked
at Gary, and then Suzy.

“Go ahead,” Gary said.

Suzy nodded and blushed.  Fascinating.

“So we were up a couple lakes, and we were fishing.  And we
had our guns, of course—I mean, this
is
bear country.  So we were
fishing, and we spotted this big-ass pike, much bigger than yours—”

I snorted.

“—and we thought, we didn’t bring a lure big enough for that
sucker, but we brought our guns.  So Zack pulled his out, and he took aim, and
he was about to shoot it, when a bear crashed out of the woods.  It startled us,
and he’d been standing up.  He stumbled and almost tipped the canoe, and he
sorta…squeezed one off…toward the bottom of the boat.”

“Grazed my foot,” Zack muttered.

Personally, I thought that was something he should never
admit to anybody, but what did I know?  I felt Gary’s gaze on me, and I glanced
over.  He was looking at me with flames dancing in his eyes.  Listening to the
brothers, maybe, but looking at me.  I shifted in my seat while I battled the
urge to go sit in his lap.

“And then he fell out,” J.D. said.

“And then he fell out of the canoe,” Rory continued, “And
I’m not real sure how it happened, but he shot the canoe again as he was going
in.”

“I was trying to find something to grab onto,” Zack said.

“It was the most beautiful swan-dive I’ve ever seen,” J.D.
said wistfully.

“So now we’ve got two holes in the boat, a man overboard,
and that bear climbed into the water and is swimming toward us.”

“And we’re taking on water,” J.D. added.

“So I yell for Zack to grab the line trailing off the back,
and I’m paddling like a mofo, and J.D.’s bailing the boat.  We’re skimming
along at a pretty good clip, dragging Zack behind us.  And he’s hanging on with
one arm and shooting at the bear with the other.”

Mocha materialized out of the shadows and laid down between
Gary’s and my camp chairs.  Her ears perked like she, too, were listening to
the story.  Gary reached under the arm of his chair and rubbed her head.

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