Master of the Abyss

Chapter Six

Kallie felt empty…and alone as he moved away to dispose of the condom. Her body, covered with sweat, began to cool. She sat up and tried to undo the restraints on her thighs. The excitement was gone, the letdown beginning. She’d never liked the awkward after-sex period. At the lodge, there hadn’t been any “after sex”-they hadn’t stopped until he tucked her into her Jeep just before sunrise.

But this time she’d have to suffer through the postsex stuff. Trying to conduct small talk, realizing you’d bedded someone you didn’t know that well.

It had been great sex. Really. Her insides still quivered, but…

“Let’s get you loose,” he said. He unfastened the leg cuffs, and his powerful hands massaged the muscles around her hips as he straightened her legs. A second later, he straddled her and dug those strong fingers into her aching shoulder joints. She yelped as pain zipped through her, then eased, disappearing entirely.

She stared up at him, watching him concentrate. When he stopped, her shoulders hummed with warmth.

“Better?” His eyes met hers, shadowy in the moonlight yet still a punch to the system.

Odd how she didn’t feel nearly as alone, as distant, as she usually did after sex. “Thank you. How did you know…?”

“That you hurt?” He rolled her onto her stomach and dug his thumbs into the tense muscles in her lower back. “The way you moved, experience from years of tying up subs, and a few times being tied myself.”

“You?”

“Not long after I started topping, I asked a friend, a domme, to give me a taste of what it feels like to submit.”

“Did you like it?”

“Not in the least. But I do know what bondage can do to muscles.” He ruffled her hair. “Time to get up, sprite. I need to check on my students.”

She wiggled a little, then sighed. “Okay.”

“Try again,” he said in a cold voice.

What? Still on her stomach, she craned her head far enough to see the expression she’d grown to recognize…his don’t-fuck-with-the-dom frown. “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir. Anything you say, Sir.”

She heard the snort of laughter and had a second of pleasure before he slapped right on the already sore area of her bottom. She scowled at him and won herself another slap. Dammit. Maybe she didn’t like him after all.

He smiled at her, running his finger down her cheek. “We’re new to each other, and testing is inevitable. You might save yourself some pain if you realize that I try to be consistent with my requirements. Respect and obedience, Kalinda.”

Her butt hurt enough that her reply was sullen. “Yes, Sir.”

“I’m fairly easygoing, sugar. There are some doms who would expect you to say, ‘Whatever Master wishes,’ no matter what, whether it was beating the hell out of you or giving you to his friends.”

Ugh. Way further than she wanted to go. She rubbed her cheek against his hand and couldn’t figure out why being with him could feel so right, so rewarding. He’d just swatted her butt as if she were a kid, for God’s sake.

And yet…it did feel right, as if there was a sanctuary for her-just her-when he held her.

He kissed her cheek, then rose. After putting on his shirt, he pulled her up. He handed her the blanket and picked up his bag, then guided her back to the fire. She bit her lip, her feet slowing. Would he want her to sleep in his tent?

She took a step toward her clothing, still in a pile by the tents, and he stopped her. Taking her wrists, he snicked her cuffs together behind her back. She stared up at him, and his eyes crinkled. “The moon will set soon, but it’d be a shame to waste all this nice firelight, don’t you think?”

Her body seemed to spring to life, and she blurted, “There’s more…? Are…?” She stopped before more than the faintest disapproval crossed his face. “Yes, Sir.” He’d see just how polite she could be.

“That sounded very nice.” He pulled a black piece of material out of his pack. Uneasiness ran through her when he held it up with the ribbons dangling from the sides. A blindfold.

He fitted it over her face, tied it snugly, and sat her on the log. “Enjoy the darkness for a minute until I return.”

Another sliver of insecurity slid across her nerves. “You won’t leave me?”

“Hey.” His hands closed on her face, ever so gently. “I’m not going anywhere, sprite. I’ll be right across the clearing talking to Andrew and Steve. I want you to simply sit here and wait. Can you do that for me?”

What a wuss. She made her voice confident. “Of course.”

She heard his footsteps walking away. The low buzz of conversation grew fainter. Had he left? No, he wouldn’t. She knew that. He… Doubt crept into her, eating away her certainty like ice eroding a mountain, crack by crack.

Apprehension kept tensing the muscles Jake had massaged, until her body ached. She tipped her head to listen, but her pounding pulse drowned out any sounds in the clearing. Maybe they’d gone. All of them.

Her breathing increased. Her brain tried to reason out why she was wrong, but her thoughts had tangled into a knot. All she knew was she’d been left. Again.

The fabric covering her eyes absorbed her tears-but she never cried. That didn’t seem to matter in the sadness swamping her mind. She’d known he wouldn’t stay with her, and now it hurt… She’d known it would hurt when he left.

She pulled at the cuffs, needing the blindfold off, and couldn’t move. How would she ever get out of this stuff? But it didn’t seem to matter. He’d left her alone. She’d always be alone.

Suddenly the blindfold was yanked off, and she looked up through her tears at Jake. His face resembled granite as he reached around her and undid her cuffs. He picked her up effortlessly and carried her across the clearing. With his foot, he shoved one of the fireside logs sideways, perpendicular to the fire, then sat on the ground and leaned on the log. He didn’t put her down, merely cradled her like a baby with her back against his right arm, and her bottom on his hips. She’d been a baby.

But he hadn’t left her. Relief trickled upward, barely making it through the dam of emotions.

“Are you hurting, Kallie?” he asked. His face was in the darkness, the fire burning brightly behind him.

She shook her head, her throat still constricted.

“Then why the tears?” He rubbed her shoulder, easing the tenseness out of her muscles.

She swallowed and edged away from the blackness inside. “I thought you left,” she whispered and realized how pitiful she sounded. She tried to swallow, but her throat was too constricted.

“Shhh.” After a second, he asked, “You think I would leave you cuffed and blindfolded?” Anger threaded through his deceptively mild voice.

“I’m sorry.” She stared down at her hands, seeing the rich brown leather cuffs still around her wrists. He’d never do such a thing. How could she have thought it?

“When you and your boyfriends played games, did one leave you alone?”

She shook her head and hauled in a shuddering breath.

What the hell had happened with her? Jake wondered. She’d never left his sight. If she hadn’t been crying so quietly with the blindfold concealing her tears, he would have caught her distress sooner. But she hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound.

She hadn’t expected him to return. He pushed aside his outrage and focused on the problem instead. Something had created such an expectation, but apparently not a past BDSM experience.

Scrubbing away the tears, she said in a stronger voice, “I’m sorry, Jake. I never cry.”

And why was that? He’d deliberately turned the log before sitting down so the firelight would light her face. He studied the tight muscles around her eyes, the lips compressed to hide the trembling. “Who left you?”

She tried to turn away, and he gripped her shoulder, keeping her in place. A tremor shook her. Damn. Sometimes sex, especially with an overwhelming orgasm, could expose a woman’s emotions as thoroughly as he had exposed her body. Apparently he’d triggered a land mine, all unknowing. Now he needed to dig it up and identify the problem-without blowing them both to pieces. “Look at me.”

The vulnerability in her liquid dark eyes made him want to simply hold her and comfort her and tell her it would be all right. In fact, he wanted more than that. He wanted to uncover those walls hiding her inner self, to be more than a top in BDSM play for one night-he wanted to be her dom.

He couldn’t. One night, Hunt. No connections, remember?

But something had caused her reaction, and he needed to find out what.

“Now answer me. Who left you, Kallie?” He tried to recall what he’d heard of her past. Lived with her cousins, involved in the guide business her uncle had started. No parents? “Where’s your father?”

She shook her head. “I… He stayed long enough to name me and then returned to India.”

“Ah.” Didn’t sound like an emotional tie, not enough for tears from this tough little sub. “How about your mother?” She tried to get up, and he simply set his arm over her legs. “You’re not going anywhere, sprite, and neither am I. Your mom; tell me.”

“She died. A long time ago, when I was eight.” She frowned at him. “I’m sorry I wussed out on you. It won’t happen again.”

Sure it won’t. “That’s a rough age to lose a mother. So who did you live with?”

She jerked as if he’d slapped her instead of asking a question, then answered in an unemotional voice, “My stepfather, but he didn’t want me. I lived with different relatives.” She stared across the clearing, not meeting his eyes.

“But you ended up with Harvey?” Jake remembered the old guy. Tough as granite up to when he had died of a heart attack last year.

A sweet smile appeared. “I was fourteen. He kept me.” The note of wonder in her voice made Jake’s heart constrict. God, how could the assholes have left her so insecure?

He frowned. This was nastier than could be dealt with in a night, but he could reduce one minor worry. “Kallie.”

Her eyes met his.

“I never, ever leave a sub who is restrained. I was just on the other side of the fire. In fact, if you hadn’t been blindfolded, I’d have realized you were crying sooner.” And damn him for not checking more closely. “I’m sorry you were frightened.”

She shrugged, although her lips still quivered slightly. “I’m sorry for being such a wimp. I don’t know why…”

Why it hit her so hard. But restraints, pain, even orgasms could dissolve layers of defenses, leaving a sub vulnerable. Old emotions could surface without warning. He’d work on this insecurity of hers more in the future-no, he wouldn’t. No ties. What the hell was he thinking? In fact, what was he thinking when he’d blindfolded her, doing something that increased dependence and deepened trust-he never used blindfolds with play subs. He scowled and saw her worry double.

Damn, he sucked as a dom tonight. “Sugar, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m angry with myself, not you.”

Her gorgeous, big eyes searched his face, and her muscles slowly relaxed. Good.

“But, Ms. Show No Fear, you need to tell your dom if you’re nervous. Not being omnipotent, we don’t always catch the signs.” He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, feeling the slight dampness remaining. And damn him for missing the clues. “A dom might still go ahead, but he’ll watch more closely if he knows something worries you.”

Her brows had drawn together, but she nodded.

“And you have that safe word for a reason, sprite. It’s not just for physical overload, but for an emotional one as well.” He paused again. If she went further into the lifestyle-and the thought of someone else topping her bothered the hell out of him-she needed to be able to communicate. “I don’t want you to forget that again.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her tense little body had relaxed into the snuggly one he had trouble resisting, so he sealed the discussion with a long, gentle kiss.

When he’d taken his fill and her arms had crept around his neck, he pulled back and glanced around. The others had left to get dressed and returned to talk quietly by the fire. “Heather, could you bring me a cup of hot chocolate?”

“Sure, Jake.”

A minute later, she handed him a cup, and he sipped. Just right. “Here you go, pet.”

Kallie squirmed to an upright position on his lap and took the cup with steady hands. She took a drink, smiled, and had some more, then tried to hand it to Jake.

“No, I don’t want any more tonight. Rebecca insists chocolate is a remedy for all woes, but for me it’s just a nice campfire drink.”

Her husky chuckle lightened his evening. Then she tilted her head. “But you drank some…”

“Just testing to make sure it wasn’t too hot for you.”

The look she gave him held outright disbelief.

He laughed, then sobered. The sprite suffered from a serious lack of pampering, dammit. And damn him for wanting to fix that.

Early Friday evening, Kallie hopped out of her Jeep and trotted into Serenity Lodge. Although the air outside was hot and dry, her hands were cold. Her skin felt itchily sensitive. A little voice inside her chanted maybe Jake will be here, maybe Jake will be here until she wanted to thump her head on the door frame.

She wandered across the empty main room and spotted Rebecca setting the table in the dining room. It was almost a relief not to see Jake. Almost.

Rebecca smiled. “Kallie. Are you guiding someone today?”

“Nope. I think Heather left this in the gear.” She held up the flat electronic reading device. “Is she here?”

“They decided to run into Yosemite Park for the day.” Rebecca waved off Kallie’s attempt to hand it to her. “Nah. I don’t have time to deal with it right now. Jake’s in the rec room. Give it to him.”

Kallie opened her mouth to reply and noted the smug expression on Rebecca’s face. Nothing like being set up. “Now that’s just mean.”

“I know.” Rebecca pointed to a door at the far end of the main room. “Put on your big-girl panties and go on in.”

That did it. “City girl, I’m looking forward to that trip to Little Bear Mountain with you.” Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “You’ll discover the wilderness is full of life: bears that steal your food, cougars that attack the horses, rattlesnakes looking for a warm sleeping bag to crawl into.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open.

“If the goddess-and that would be me, by the way-is displeased, you’ll get bats in your hair and mice in your boots.” Kallie gave her a thin smile and then stomped across the room. She thinks I’m a coward? Just because Jake and I have done…kinky stuff…doesn’t mean I worry about facing him. Or how he affects me.

She stepped into a room that would have her cousins drooling with envy. Dart board, pool table, foosball, and Ping-Pong tables.

Jake leaned against the wall, drinking a beer, while Logan racked the balls and the massive dog sprawled off to one side. When the men smiled at Kallie, her cheeks turned hot. Dammit. “I-”Not affected, remember? “Heather left this in the gear. Can you get it back to her?”

When the dog padded over, she bent to pet it for a few seconds, hopefully hiding her blush.

“Not a problem.” Logan took the electronic device. “Thanks for bringing it out. How ’bout you stay for supper as a reward? We’re eating in half an hour, and Becca’s a fantastic cook.”

“No, but thanks for the offer.” She took a step toward the door. Jake hadn’t said a word. Wasn’t he even going to greet her? “I need to get back.”

Jake tilted his head and studied her. “Do you really have something planned?”

“I-” Hell. “I always have things that have to be done.”

As one half of his mouth quirked up, that tantalizing crease appeared in his left cheek. “In other words, no.” He set his beer on a card table and glanced at Logan. “Tell Becca one more for supper.”

Kallie pulled up straight. “Listen, I-”

He advanced on her, as unstoppable as a forest fire in a strong wind. When she held up her hand in protest, he chuckled and used it to haul her over his shoulder. “We’ll be upstairs, bro,” he said. “I have a craving to play dress-up.”

“Damn you, Hunt. Put me down.”

Ignoring her orders and her fists pounding his back, he hummed a tune and blatantly fondled her butt. They crossed the main room, going past Rebecca-not that Kallie saw her, but the snicker was evidence enough. An electronic keypad beeped, a door opened, and Jake started up a flight of stairs.

Kallie gave up. She hadn’t expected to be hijacked, but face it: she’d hoped for…something. If Jake Hunt wanted his hands on her, she wasn’t about to argue. She laughed and thumped him one more time with her fist…just because.

He wasn’t even breathing hard when he entered a door down the hall and dumped her on a couch. “Stay put for a minute, sprite.”

As he disappeared into another room, she struggled to a sitting position. How did he do this to her? She’d dated before, made love before. And yet the man made her feel like a teenager out with a guy for the first time.

She rose to her feet. “Stay put?” Dream on, Hunt. She strolled around the room, trying to ignore how snug her bra had grown and how each step scraped her jeans over her increasingly sensitive clit.

Nice place, she decided. Cream-colored walls with original paintings of Yosemite…signed by Rebecca. Kallie checked the signature again. Rebecca had mentioned she painted. She was really, really good.

A chess table stood in one corner. The shelves over it held seashells and coral. The next wall displayed framed photographs of family and friends in settings that ranged from a cattle ranch to tropical beaches. Apparently he not only liked to travel, but he also had a lot of friends. Mr. Sociable himself.

A wide-screen TV-of course-on the far wall. Considering the decor downstairs, she’d expected more leather up here, but his oversize furniture was upholstered in a dark blue fabric. Rag rugs in a mingling of blue, green, and white covered the hardwood floor. The room had a homey atmosphere.

Her sense of comfort disappeared when Jake returned, his arms filled with fabric. “Strip.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You know, we need to work on your social skills. You can’t snap out orders to a guest.”

“Oh. Was I too terse?” He cocked his head and gave her a mean smile. “Kalinda, you will remove every item of clothing immediately or suffer the consequences.”

She took a step back as the steely glint in his eyes did funny things to her heartbeat.

“Was that better?”

“Uh, not exactly what-”

“Now, Kalinda.”

Her mouth went dry. But there’s only half an hour before supper kept running through her head, as if that made a difference to someone like Jake. She unbuttoned her flannel shirt, shrugged it off, and removed her boots, socks, and jeans.

And then he got that disapproving expression again, as if the sight of her body displeased him. “Would you stop looking at me like that?” she burst out.

He lifted an eyebrow. “What way?”

“If you don’t like the way I look, why do I keep ending up-”

His laugh rang out, full and strong, and she balled her hand into a fist. If he tried to touch her, she’d belt him one.

He yanked her against him so quickly she didn’t have a chance. His ruthless hands roamed over her back and her butt, and her desire to punch him burned to ashes in the blast of heat.

“I love your body, sprite. So much that what you wear offends my senses.” He unfastened her bra and tossed it on the floor, then ripped her panties in two. “You have the ugliest underwear I’ve ever seen.”

“My underwear? You’ve been frowning at me for two years because of my underwear?”

He eyed her face and started laughing so hard that she swung at him. He caught her fist as easily as if it were a buzzing mosquito. “You hit me, sugar, and I’ll spank your ass-even if we’re late for supper.”

She tried to yank her hand out of his grasp and got nowhere, and then he palmed her right breast, teased the nipple, and turned her legs to water.

“And I not only dislike your underwear, but the rest of your wardrobe too. I understand the need for hiking gear when you’re hiking, but why don’t you wear girl clothes at other times?” He asked the question in an easy voice, but there was nothing casual about the way he scrutinized her.

She started to answer and stopped. “Well.” She vaguely remembered the last sexy top she’d bought, back as a teenager, and how her cousins had behaved, like she’d turned into a slut or something. “It’s easier”- to not rock the boat-“to stay in the same clothes.” She shrugged. “I don’t even own anything fancy.”

“Ah.” The sense of satisfaction that the sprite had never dressed provocatively for a man was a little unsettling. As was the impression that laziness had little to do with her choice of attire. “Well, if you like it easier, I’ll do all the work this time.”

That delightfully suspicious look appeared on her face-the one that said he had all the control and she didn’t think she should like it. Even if she trusted him completely, he’d still enjoy provoking her. A dom shouldn’t allow a sub to get too comfortable, after all. But in her case, it didn’t take much effort.

Right now, he intended not only to please himself by putting her in feminine clothing, but he wanted to see what effect a change of clothing would have on her. Push the boundaries a little. He paused. He shouldn’t be doing this.

And then he slid the bra he’d chosen up her arms and fastened it.

“You bought me underwear?” She sounded so appalled that he chuckled.

She stiffened when he reached into the cups to adjust her breasts, so he took his time until her nipples puckered under his palms. He stepped back to survey the results. The push-up bra gave her the prettiest cleavage, and when she looked down, her eyes got big.

Damn, she was cute.

He dropped a deep pink top over her head. The low neckline with an edging of lace framed her breasts nicely, and he nodded approval, then added a long, silky skirt.

“What is it with you guys and pink?” she muttered, staring at the clothes.

“It’s feminine,” he said, and pulled her to the bathroom mirror. “And a damned good color on you too.”

Her mouth formed an O as she took in her appearance. The top hugged her breasts and waist, and the dark pink skirt flowed smoothly over her grabable, full ass.

“What about…briefs?”

“You’ll go without tonight,” Jake said.

She whipped around. “I can’t go without underwear.”

He crossed his arms and stared her down, enjoying the way her eyes lowered. The flush of pink in her cheeks now matched her skirt. “You can. You will. Because that’s how I want it.”

She swallowed.

He stepped back and smiled, showing her the pleasure he found in her appearance. “You look lovely, Kallie. You’re a beautiful woman. Now and then you might give us poor men a treat and dress like one.”

That she should look so confounded saddened him. Hadn’t anyone ever complimented her beauty?

“Thank you,” she said softly. Then her stubborn little chin rose. “But why no panties?”

He stepped closer and cupped her cheek and whispered back, “So that when I decide to take you-downstairs or up here-there’s nothing in my way.”

Her response was beautiful…and now he’d have to suffer from having a hard-on all through supper. Hell.

On the day before the Fourth, he settled into a chair beside his tent in his favorite Yosemite campground. He’d start a fire, make some supper. Then maybe hike one more time before sundown. The forests comforted him and dimmed the discordant noise in his head. One or two years ago-he lost track of time-he’d realized the clamor and the incoherent voices came from the evil ones. Some people, like him, could sense demonic energy-could actually hear it.

He’d enjoyed the short hike he’d just taken, and the peaceful trail had allowed his tension to ease away.

But now a woman’s shrill voice scraped across his nerves. He turned and spotted the young couple at the campsite next to him. The woman wore a purple tank top that displayed her lush breasts, and her hair spilled over her shoulders. Her dark, dark hair. Her voice grew louder as she deliberately yelled at her poor boyfriend in front of their tent, right out where everyone could witness the man’s humiliation.

He watched as the demon rose inside her and peeked out of her brown eyes, so clearly visible he was surprised everyone didn’t scream and run. But no one else saw. This was his gift-his curse.

As the demon screamed in a mind-piercing voice, the boyfriend hunched his shoulders, clenching his hands at his side. Short but muscular, the young man could have flattened her with one blow, but no, men didn’t hit women. The fool. Couldn’t he see that his girlfriend wasn’t there anymore, that a demon had shredded her soul into such darkness that it shone through her eyes?

No, instead the man simply took her abuse, feeling like a failure. A loser. Less of a man.

He couldn’t let that continue, and it would. Over and over until the man had nothing left, as the demon tore his spirit down with words and screams and insults.

Face set into calm lines, he watched her give one last high shriek and then stalk off on one of the myriad of trails leading away from the campground. Her poor victim walked into the tent. A minute later, a rolled-up sleeping bag hit the ground outside. Then a backpack. The boyfriend obviously planned to leave.

Another brother hurt, perhaps damaged forever.

He leaned forward and laced his hands together. The evil had gone up the trail, and the miasma of her passing floated above the ground, an ugly dark green like a bruise. His duty was clear; the world would be a better place without her.

In his jeans, his manhood hardened. He hated disposing of demons, of the noise, the smells, the darkness-but the heavens had provided compensation, showing him that his way was right. The scream of the demons sent masculine heat through his body, and over the years, he had grown to anticipate the battles. And the time afterward when he would show in an unmistakable way that he had the victory.

Taking his time, he wandered across the clearing and headed up the adjacent trail. Once out of sight, he slipped through the thin forest until he came to the trail the dark-haired woman had used. A heavy branch offered itself for his weapon, and he picked it up. The foul scent beckoned him onward.

Dark would come soon.

Carrying a platter of raw hamburger patties, Kallie stepped out their back door onto the low cedar deck. The hum of conversation was broken by the occasional clanking of a horseshoe and victorious shout, the screams of the younger children enjoying the waterslide, and yells of disappointment at missing a Frisbee catch or a badminton swing. The scent of barbequing meat filled the evening air, and her stomach growled. Maybe she’d have a moment to eat soon.

She set the platter on the to-be-cooked table to the right of the massive barbecue. Clad in a chef’s apron, liberally stained with grease and catsup, Morgan grinned at her and flipped another burger before returning to his conversation with Gina.

Kallie bent to pet Mufasa, who had positioned himself strategically close to the barbecue, where Morgan could toss tidbits, especially when reminded by a paw placed firmly on his sneaker. The cat rubbed her hand and then returned his attention to important matters.

After transferring cooked burgers and hot dogs to the long buffet table, she checked the offerings with the experience of a decade of Fourth of July parties. The ice under the salad section was maintaining well, enough buns were available, condiments not empty. Red, white, and blue paper plates and napkins vied with the sparkling pinwheels lined down the center. Parties went in three stages: first families with small children, secondly the ones with older children, and finally adults without children and older teens to close down the night. The first wave of hungry people had already gone through.

“Hey, Kallie, hold up a second.” Gina patted Morgan’s butt before trotting over.

“How are you?” Kallie asked.

“Not bad.” Gina pursed her lips and gave Kallie a once-over. “And you’re looking very, very good.”

Kallie flushed. “Thanks. Feels weird though.” Just before lunch, Rebecca had arrived like a military godmother with a mission, wielding makeup and clothing like advanced weaponry. Before leaving, she’d mentioned that prior to artist and cook, she’d been a manager. No kidding.

“Maybe, but you’re getting a lot of interested looks.” Hands on her hips, Gina surveyed the pickings of men with an experienced eye. “And there are a lot more single guys this year to be looking. Nice job.”

Kallie grinned. Some people were so easy to please. “Virgil has two of his cop friends here-the other two and the chief had to work-and Wyatt invited his buddies from the black-powder rifle club.” She nodded to the group of guys around Wyatt, most of them bearded, one with hair braided halfway down his back. “They had a great time this morning shooting and throwing tomahawks and knives.” And Wyatt had dragged her down to show off how well he’d taught her to throw a knife.

“Mmmmh, mountain men. The one in the red T-shirt is downright hot. Then again, the two men in buckskins look really…primitive.” Gina fanned herself.

“Stop drooling, or I’ll get you a bib.”

“Hey, a girl’s gotta look.” Gina licked her lips. “And mmmhmm, there’s a gorgeous sight.”

Kallie followed her gaze. Logan and Rebecca walked around the side of the house. Then she saw Jake, and her libido gave a massive roar like a Harley that someone’s boot had kick-started. She couldn’t blame Gina for lusting after him. The summer had darkened his skin and put gold streaks in his collar-length brown hair. He’d dressed fairly casually in jeans and a white polo shirt, where the sleeves stretched around his hard biceps in a way that made her fingers want to touch.

“I’ve never seen them at any party before,” Gina commented. “Only the ClaimJumper now and then.”

As Wyatt sauntered over to greet the Hunts, Kallie said, “I got the impression they’re more sociable now because of Rebecca.” Standing here gawking at the man wouldn’t do, especially since she had no idea of her place in his life. Him and his damned “for one night only” rules. Did he want her to ignore him or pretend to be a casual acquaintance?

This was so confusing.

“Well, I’m going to be…sociable…and say hi to Jake,” Gina said, her eyes bright. “It’s been a couple of months since we went out last; maybe I’m close to the top of the rotation.”

Oh. Damn. “Ah, Gina?”

“Yeah?” Gina paused.

“Never mind.” What could she say? That the man had taken her so many times that her jeans rubbed uncomfortably over her still-swollen private parts? Yesterday morning, he’d kissed her good-bye, and she hadn’t understood the look he’d given her. All the way home, she’d worried over it. Had that been a the-night’s-over-and-so-is-our-time-together look or a this-was-wonderful-I’ll-be-calling-you look. She’d sure jumped to the wrong conclusion last time.

If she went over there, he’d probably give her another of those chilly greetings. Maybe she should encourage Gina to have at him? No no no. Before she could decide, Gina sashayed over to hug Rebecca and say hi to Logan. Then she turned on the flirt switch for Jake.

When Jake greeted Gina, his smile lightened his lean face. Kallie’s throat constricted. Not mine. Never mine. Maybe she’d go check on the kitchen for a few minutes. To provide an excuse for fleeing the scene, Kallie picked up a dish that had held cherry pie. Stepping back, she bumped into someone. “Oh. Sorry.”

The guy in the red T-shirt, one of Wyatt’s friends from the mountain-man club, grinned down at her. “Totally my pleasure. You can bump into me anytime you want.”

She blinked at his flirtatious expression and smiled. Thank you, God. Right now she needed someone to help make her feel attractive. “I saw you shooting a muzzle loader earlier. You’re good.”

His smile widened. “Yes. I am. Very good.” He ran a finger down her arm and glanced at the dish she held. His voice dropped suggestively. “Cherries. I love a good cherry, you know. Maybe you’d like to see?”

Ew. Some men looked interesting until they opened their mouths. This one should have stayed in the gutter where he belonged. She took a step away. “Well, I-”

An arm encircled her waist and yanked her back against a rock-hard body. Jake’s baritone sounded rough enough to take someone’s hide off. “If you’re a black-powder reenactor, you should know how to talk to a lady. Apologize.”

The guy’s mouth dropped open, and his face turned the color of his shirt. To her surprise, he manned up and said, “You’re perfectly correct, sir. My apologies, ma’am, for getting out of line.” Not waiting for a response, he gave a short bow and retreated back to his cohorts.

Kallie tried to step away, but the arm around her waist didn’t loosen. Instead Jake swiped her fingers in the leftover cherry filling, lifted her hand to his mouth, and licked her fingers.

The blast of heat swirled from her hand straight to her pussy, and her legs wobbled. His embrace tightened, keeping her shoulders against his chest. She could actually feel his cock thicken and press against her butt, and her lower half grew liquid-ready to be taken. Damn him.

She pulled in a shaky breath and tried to get her hand back.

“Don’t move.” His sharp nip on her thumb streaked straight to her groin. Taking his time, he finished cleaning her fingers, sucking on one after the other. And she felt each pull of his mouth as if his lips circled her clit instead.

Finally, when her body was in flames, he let her tug her hand away and turn to face him.

“Mmm. Any more pie left?” he asked, his voice so casual she wanted to belt him one.

She glared, dying to drag him to bed…after she punched him a few times. “I can’t believe you gave that man such a rough time, and then you do this.”

“Ah, sprite.” He glided his knuckles over her cheek. “The difference is that we’re not strangers. I know what you taste like…everywhere, what your whimpers sound like. I have your scratch marks on my shoulders, and my sleeping bag carries your scent.”

The air felt like the Mohave Desert, hot and thick, scorching her brain cells until she couldn’t seem to think. The sun lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled. “You know, sometimes you’re drop-dead beautiful…and other times you’re just damned cute.”

Cute? Chipmunks were cute. Before she really could hit him, he grasped her upper arms, yanked her up on tiptoe, and kissed her so thoroughly every thought in her brain melted into goo.

He tasted like cherries.

He lifted his head slightly and whispered, “By the way, I like the top.”

He’d noticed the sleek blue shirt Rebecca had given her-one formfitting enough to get a frown from Wyatt. Before she could wallow in the compliment, he took her lips again. When he pulled back this time, he had to hold her up or she would have staggered like a drunk. Chuckling, he drew a finger over her wet lips. “So if I promise to help with the cleanup, do you think I can get more of that pie?”

Damn, she really was cute. As Kallie walked toward the house, Jake admired the snug fit of her jeans over her pretty, round ass. He might have thought his efforts had prompted the sexy improvement, but he’d seen Rebecca leave the lodge with a sack full of clothing. He owed her.

He noticed Kallie’s stiff-legged walk and tilted his head. Not used to tight pants? Or she might be a tad sore. He’d taken her a lot the night before last. Wanted to again. He moved and adjusted himself surreptitiously.

Why the hell had he kissed her? But he’d forgotten how quickly she turned him hard. And how she brought out every possessive trait in his dom’s nature. After seeing that asshole coming on to her-Face it, Hunt, you staked a claim as blatantly as a bear putting claw marks on a tree.

Kallie wasn’t the only one with uncomfortable jeans. Even thinking of cold showers and mountain glaciers didn’t help. Annoyed, he walked across the deck. After grabbing a cold Sierra Nevada Stout from the ice-packed cooler, he leaned on the deck railing festooned with red and white streamers, and hoped his cock would ease eventually.

Nice setup for a gathering. From the wide cedar deck, the lawn sloped down to a tree-lined creek. Picnic tables and patio chairs held various sets of people: a group of local merchants, a few cops flirting with some of Kallie’s friends, the buckskin crowd, and a handful of loggers who lived in the area. A batch of older citizens kept grandchildren running to serve their requests. Teens hung out down at the creek or playing board games, toddlers and moms had taken over the wading pool, older kids used the waterslide or kicked a soccer ball. Some climbed on the hay bales stacked two and three high and scattered around the lawn. Looked like two poker games going on in the shade, and dominoes reigned at a picnic table. He’d heard about the Masterson’s Fourth of July gathering for years but never realized it drew in the entire population of Bear Flat. And more continued to arrive.

Just as he took a hefty drink of beer, something rubbed against his calf. He jerked his leg away and looked down. Kallie’s monster cat sat at his feet.

Jake knelt on one knee and offered a finger. Hopefully the beast wasn’t in a bad mood, or he’d be drawing back a stump. “You know, I like cats, but I think you’re descended from something a lot bigger.” Maybe the tufts on his ears resembled a bobcat’s, but the thick fluffy mane looked more like a lion’s-if lions came in brown tabby coloring. And those paws were huge.

The dark pink nose touched his finger gently. Jake petted it for a bit and started to stand. The cat deliberately lay down on Jake’s boot, all twenty-some pounds of him. “Ah-uh. If I move at this point, I’ll have scratches all the way up my leg, right?”

A snort came from the direction of the beer cooler, and Jake glanced up.

Kallie’s cousin Virgil, clad in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, opened a can of Coors. “Takes a lot to make him really mad. He’s more mellow than he looks.”

Jake stroked Mufasa and grinned. The beast had a purr like an outboard motor. “You’re the only people I know who keep a guard cat rather than a dog.”

“Yeah, well, Kallie was so upset when my dad’s cat got savaged and died, that he picked one not so tempting to the critters outside.”

“Good choice.” The beast wouldn’t survive a cougar, but any fox or coyote would think twice before taking it on. Jake rose to his feet very, very carefully. His rest disturbed, the cat twitched its fluffy, raccoonlike tail and stalked away. Back to the food, Jake noticed. Not a dumb cat at all.

“So, Hunt. Welcome to the party.” The flat tone didn’t sound welcoming, and Masterson’s eyes were as cold as the icy beer. They weren’t friends, although they’d exchanged greetings a few times. The man had a rep as being an honest, tough cop.

“Thanks. Appreciate the invite.”

“We’ve always invited you. This is the first year you’ve shown.”

Uh-huh. The man’s voice matched his eyes. Protective family. Jake understood perfectly; he was that way himself. “Rebecca wanted to come.” He wiggled the bottle. “Good beer.”

A corner of Virgil’s mouth drew up slightly. “Kallie likes that brand, so we indulge her, even though the rest of us prefer light. We like her to be happy.” Virgil gave him an unwavering stare. “And that’s why I’m not busting your chops right now. If she kissed you, then that’s what she wanted.”

Jake leaned a hip against a picnic table and waited. There was obviously more to come.

“I know about you and your brother and the games at the lodge. I’m not going to go into that.” Virgil scowled and then drew a figurative line in the sand. “Kallie’s got a soft heart, and she’s collected some hurts in her life. Don’t fuck with her heart, Hunt, or I’ll pitch the badge and beat the shit out of you.”

“You could try,” Jake said mildly. “But I understand your concern. I don’t play games-but sometimes people get hurt anyway.”

“I hear you. Best it not be Kallie.”

“Fair enough.”

As two other cops raided the cooler for beer, Virgil turned to greet them and introduced Jake. Warning delivered, the cop had moved on, shedding the animosity.

Excellent control, Jake thought as he shook hands and listened to the cops complain about an incompetent coroner who apparently had just retired, to everyone’s relief.

He watched her. She laughed often, almost sparkling with energy. She treated the children sweetly, like a mother, but demons could be devious. Sipping a beer, he stood in a group of townspeople, smiling at the jokes and evaluating the woman.

She was small. Sneaky-sized. Black hair showed the darkness in her soul. Surely the evil had taken her. Surely he needed to act, to destroy her face, her body until pain forced the demon to sink back into the depths. He could almost hear the sound of the club striking flesh, feel the impact as it shattered bones. He shuddered at the memory of a demon’s shrieks as it was torn from the physical world-from a body.

His stomach twisted with nausea. Sweat coated his skin. Forcing his muscles to calm, he carefully swallowed some more beer. His job. To save his brothers, his world. He would do it no matter the cost to himself.

He’d have his reward at the end, when he’d triumphed over the demon. His manhood rose, strong and proud, as he watched her.