“Get ready to make a right up here,” she pointed. “Just beyond that wooden bus shelter up there you’ll see a sign that says Moon Lake Road. Slow down and be careful or you’ll miss it.”
Harm slowed a bit and watched as the little wooden lean-to loomed on his right. Almost immediately, he saw a row of about ten mailboxes and the asphalt branching off the two-lane road they were on. Nailed to tree, a handmade wooden sign, the white paint faded and peeling, announced, “Moon Lake Road. Private. Slow.”
As they drove, the road dipped gently toward the lake, smaller branches of asphalt and gravel and even dirt leading off.
“There’s a gate across the road up here. Stop so I can get out and open it, please.”
A metal gate materialized from barbed wire on either side of the road. Elgin hopped out, unhooked the gate and walked it to the side of the road. With Harm through, she closed it and got back in the SUV.
Another quarter of a mile and around a sharp bend. The road ended in a large open space. Just beyond, the lake shimmered like dark blue glass, the pine trees growing almost to its edge.
“Well, this is it.”
“Your friend called it ‘a shack,’” Harm commented, looking around at the beautiful setting and rustic house up a short stone path from where they were parked.
“Sheila thinks anything smaller than the White House and decorated less lavishly than Buckingham Palace is a ‘shack,’” she laughed.
They moved to the back of the SUV to start unloading.
“Actually, it was built as a honeymoon cottage and summer retreat in the Thirties. They were just about the first people to build up here. They named it ‘Moon’s End.’ Named the road too. Loved the place so much, they paid a fortune to run a sewer line down from the road all the way here so they wouldn’t be flushing into the lake. Come on, let me show you around.”
Boots crunching on the gravel, they went up two small steps to the broad, green shingled porch, much like the one in front of the grocery store except that instead of vending machines and rockers, there was only an old wooden porch swing, hanging from the roof by two hardy- looking chains. The clapboard siding that covered the two-story building had weathered down, not to a chilly gray but a warm coffee brown. Above the rough-hewn door, a smiling Man-in-the-Moon gazed down on them, “Moon’s End,” carved below it.
“I called the propane company about two weeks ago,” Elgin told him as she fumbled with the key and her grocery box. “They assured me they’d fill the tank before we arrived and put us on their weekly route but we better make sure, just the same. Their driver, Les, has a special little truck he drives to the really out-of-the-way places like this where they can’t get in with the big truck. Of course, they charge an arm and a leg for this ‘extra service,’ but until someone gets around to running gas and/or electricity up here, they know they’ve got us over a barrel.”
Pushing down the big, old-fashioned metal handle with her thumb, Elgin pushed the door open wide and stepped in as Harm followed.
He let out a long, low whistle of approval as his head swiveled in all directions. Prepared for a one room wooden cabin with a dirt floor, the reality literally bowled him over. The main room where they stood was big, at least fifty by fifty he guessed. Windows took up most of the wall to his left, blinds covered by lacy sheer curtains covering them. In the corner, a floor to ceiling rock fireplace loomed over the room, a hearth tall enough to sit comfortably on and an opening big enough to roast a pig in. Before it sat a simple wood frame and dark blue cushion sofa, simple end tables and matching pine coffee table. Glass doors made up the rest of the wall, opening he could see to a broad wooden deck facing out on the lake which filled the view like a living mural. To his right, an open kitchen and small dining table. Just off the door, narrow wooden steps ascended to the second floor.
Elgin grinned as they moved to the kitchen and set down their boxes. “I’m glad you approve.”
“It’s…it’s beautiful.”
“Let’s get the bags and I’ll show you the upstairs.”
With their luggage retrieved from the SUV, Elgin led the way. Six steps rose steeply up the well, making a sharp left turn at a slightly larger landing and six more, equally steep steps, put them in a hall running the length of the building.
“This is the master suite,” she said, pushing open the door. It took up at least half the upper floor, a huge four-poster bed dominating the room. A wall of windows looked out over the lake and trees.
With a grunt, she dropped her bags on the floor by the bed, carefully laying her laptop on the plump patchwork quilt. “There are two bathrooms which is nice. You’re over here.”
Directly across the hall, she opened a second door and stood aside for him. Not much smaller than the master suite, the only difference he could see, the scale of the furniture and that his windows looked back on the pine forests instead of the lake.
“Bathroom’s through there,” she nodded to a closed door on the right. “No closets but the wardrobe and bureau should give you all the room you need. House’s been closed up since last year but everything, including the linen should be clean. If you need anything, give me a holler.”
“Thanks.”
Elgin turned to leave, pausing at the door.
“Oh, and in case you’re wondering,” she grinned maliciously, pointing her index finger straight down, “both bedroom doors are very sturdy and bolt from the inside. See you downstairs.”
Funny, he thought as he dropped his two bags on the bed, when she wasn’t being a total bitch, Elgin Collier wasn’t too bad to be around.
Unzipping the larger of his two bags, the first things Harm retrieved were his cell phone and holstered automatic. He punched the “on” button, afraid for a moment that the isolated area might have cut off the signal. But the screen came almost instantly to life. By now, the GPS beacon had told his people they were stopped. Later tonight, he’d call and set up a regular schedule of check-in times and begin the flow of necessary information. He already had one name to be checked on, Martin Van Scoyk, and there would undoubtedly be others.
During the day, they’d remain hidden in the bureau under his clothes. At night, he’d put them on the bedside stand, the tiny green light of the recharging stand marking its location, the automatic at the ready beside it.
The bathroom, while large, seemed comfortable. Sunlight from windows on either side of the medicine chest and heavy white pedestal sink let in lots of light. Toilet and a big cast-iron, blue and white claw-foot bathtub and shower, ringed by a Thirties style shower curtain. He didn’t need to be an expert to know it was genuine.
Downstairs, all the blinds had been pulled up and the windows opened, washing away the stale, closed-up smell, the air replacing it crisp and clean as freshly washed sheets. As he moved across the room, he noted that the boxes had been emptied, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound.
Harm stopped at the French door, his hand on the knob, the tempo of his heart speeding up a little.
She’d changed out of her jeans and turtleneck into a skinny little white tank top and a pair of bright red cut-off shorts. With the emphasis definitely on short. Lying back slightly on a redwood chaise, the fat emerald and white striped cushion making a perfect backdrop.
No denying it, he heard that voice in his head again, that’s one good-looking woman.
Shaking his head a little, he turned the knob and stepped onto the sunny deck, deliberately moving past her to the railing and scanning the scene before him. With her sunglasses on, he couldn’t tell if she was awake or not, but he didn’t want to risk her noticing that she’d had a definite, if unnerving effect on him.
Trying to ignore the discomfort behind his fly, he concentrated on the view in front of him, not in back.
From the flat parking area, a worn dirt path followed the gentle slope of the land to a small sandy patch of beach where aquamarine water, clear as glass, lapped quietly, spreading itself outward to a blue topaz and finally the mysterious, rich sapphire of deep water. Thick pine forest hugged the lakeshore as far as he could see except right here. And there didn’t seem to be any other houses on this side of the barbed wire and gate.
An ideal spot. The view would give him an excuse to carry his binoculars and with them, he could sweep the entire lake for ten miles around. Later, he’d go hiking in the woods around the cabin to locate hiding places for motion activated cameras and microphones.
“‘Come into my parlor,’ said the spider to the fly.”
“What?”
Her voice startled him and the remnants of his erection caught between his body and the railing.
Shit!
“What?” he repeated, turning his head but not his body.
“Did you say something?”
“No. Why?”
“I thought I heard you say you’d seen a spider or something.”
“Just mumbling to myself.”
“Oh.”
“This is a great view,” he commented, forcing his eyes away from her. She didn’t have a bra under that tank top. Almost in spite of himself, he wondered if she had on panties under those shorts. “How much of it is yours?”
A blur of movement made him turn his head just in time to see Elgin swing her legs off the chaise and answer his unspoken question about her underwear. Another flash of heat surged up from his re-awakened cock and its growing size made his jeans more and more uncomfortable.
She came up beside him, casually brushing her arm against his as she leaned her forearms on the railing and bent forward, pulling the neck of her tank top out just enough to give him a quick peek of round, white breast before he managed to jerk his wayward eyeballs back to the water.
“My lawyer tells me I have about two hundred acres, give or take, but that doesn’t really mean much to me.” Elgin tilted her chin up a little and the simple beauty of her smooth, freshly washed skin, plain except for a natural pink glow on those lovely cheekbones struck him, as if he’d never really seen her before.
“Actually though,” she continued, “it’s easier for me to remember that I own everything from the gate down to the water’s edge and from ‘Eagle’s Rock,’ that sharp, pointy little spit of land out there with the gnarled old pine tree at the end, all the way down to ‘Robber’s Roost.’” Her outstretched hand made a line from left to right, her bare arm resting for a fleeting moment against his shirt as she pointed.
He took a deep breath and felt his body filling up with her sweet, warm, sensual musk, wrapped in the tangy, crisp air and the faint scent of wild flowers.
“Oh look,” she cried excitedly, pointing out toward the water, “it’s ‘The Belle.’”
Squinting, he could make out a small white box with moving sides and two tall black chimney’s puffing out a billow of white smoke behind it.
“What’s a bell?”
“The Belle of the Lake,” she responded merrily. “It’s a wonderful old paddle-wheel steamer. Nowadays of course, it just takes people out on the lake for sightseeing cruises but originally, it was the workhorse of the whole area. Built in the eighteen hundreds in St. Louis as a small river trader but when they discovered gold out here, an enterprising gentleman named Crockett saw the potential profits in a steamer for the lake. So he went back east, bought her,’ had her disassembled, crated up and shipped overland by wagon and reassembled here. The only place for a landing on this side of the lake was at what’s now Spirit Cove and on the western side, Crockett’s Landing. From there, he managed to carve a little spur railroad to hook up with the mainline to points west. Mostly carried miners and timber and supplies to the camps and gold and silver back. For ten years, virtually anything that moved on the lake, moved on ‘The Belle.’
“After the mines played out and the timber all got cut down, she fell on hard times, mostly just eking out a hand-to-mouth existence for her owners. Then people re-discovered the place in the Twenties and the Thirties. Started building summer homes and coming up here to camp and fish. Crockett’s Landing changed its name to West Shore and legalized gambling and the rest, as they say, is history. Water sports in the summer, skiing in the winter and casino hotels the year around.
“And just like Crockett before him, some enterprising young man bought ‘Belle,’ put a new coat of paint on her, polished her brass and sent her back on the lake to haul tourists. In fact, you and I will have to go out on her. You really can’t appreciate the lake unless you’re on it.”
“Sounds like fun,” he agreed, trying to ignore the growing problem in his jeans. The feel of her ass through her thin cotton shorts as they rubbed against his thigh wasn’t helping.
“Okay,” she began, turning back to him. Abruptly she stopped, seeming to search his face.
“You better go up and take a shower and change into something else,” she told him. “You’re sweating like a pig.”
She could feel his heat through his shirt as she pretended to brush her arm accidentally against his chest and while he’d pushed himself against the wooden railing, she’d glimpsed the bulge pressing firmly on his fly. Not satisfied, she’d turned slightly so that her ass touched the hard muscle of his thigh.
After the long car ride, the quick shower had refreshed her and as she’d stood toweling herself in front of the bathroom mirror, she’d suddenly imagined his naked body tight against her own. She wanted that strong, handsome, arrogant man but not until she’d played with him. Made him suffer for his bullying, overbearing behavior. On his knees, begging for her favor, kissing her pussy and making her come.
Her own heat had risen then, coursing through her with a fiery demand that she take him as quickly as possible. That he fill her and quench the longing that she had only so suddenly become aware of.
Quickly, she finished drying herself, lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary as she moved the towel between her legs. And then into the bedroom where her bags still sat on the bed. Without thought to bra and panties, she slipped on a pair of red shorts, the legs flared and cuffed just enough to give a glimpse of dark curls and white skin if she moved just so. A thin white tank top with a scooped neck completed the outfit. Revealing only what she wanted him to see, leaving his imagination to finish the torture for her.
Downstairs, she’d put the groceries away, popping the top on a cold bottle of hard cola and then settling herself nonchalantly on the chaise. The trap baited, she had only to wait.
Now, beside her at the rail, she could hear his breathing, labored and heavier than normal, feel his mounting desire. If she turned around, she’d be in his arms.
She did want him. Trapped in the car all those hours, the look, the smell, the imagined feel of him, had taunted her. Right there and yet not. Seeming to ignore her while his whole body seemed to entice her, silently telegraphing his own need. They’d passed the game playing…from here on everything was for keeps.
A tickle of wet heat rippled up from her pussy, as strong yet as hidden as the fist in his jeans.
With a great yawn, she stepped back to the chaise, stretching out, her arms at her side, her crossed ankles keeping the legs of her shorts open just a fraction.
“You really ought to shower and change clothes,” she commented, watching him intently from behind her sunglasses. “Maybe get something cold to drink. Might cool you off…a little.”
“Maybe I’ll do that,” he murmured.
“I know it did me a world of good,” she continued, pretending calm disinterest but actually determined to throw as much gasoline as possible on the smoldering heat. “Getting out of those heavy clothes. Letting that cool, refreshing water splash all over your hot, sticky body. The sweet, warm mountain air on your wet, naked skin. A towel rubbing briskly over you, making your flesh all pink and healthy.”
Carelessly, she raised her arms and stretched again, folding them over her head. The movement pulled up the hem of her shirt, showing creamy skin and pulling her breasts up.
He needed a cold shower now.
“Yeah, well, that sounds good,” he mumbled. “I think I’ll go up and do that now.”
“Could I ask you to do me a favor first?”
“What?”
“I forgot my suntan lotion. It’s on the kitchen counter. Would you bring it to me, please? I’ll get French fried without it.”
“Sure.”
Dashing inside, he grabbed the plastic tube and walked quickly back outside.
“Here,” he held it out to her.
“Could I ask you one more little favor, please?”
Standing there, he couldn’t hide his cock. God, practically in her face. In her mouth.
“What?”
“Would you please put some on my neck and shoulders? I can’t reach back there.” She scooted to one side making room for him beside her and turning her back to him.
Shit, why not? At least this way he didn’t have to watch her watching him.
Cool and white, the lotion squirted into his palm and he began to rub it on her pale, surprisingly warm, soft skin. And no doubt sweet-tasting. His cock twitched uncomfortably.
“Hmmm,” she purred, “that feels heavenly. You have very gentle hands for such a big, burly guy.”
“And you have very soft skin.”
The feel of him made her flesh tingle and the heat between her legs spread in ever increasing waves through her body. His warm breath on the back of her neck made her dizzy.
She felt his hands move down to the hem of her shirt and slide up her back, his thumbs running up the ridge of her backbone, his big open hands covering her like delicate wings. A tremor ran through her.
“I want you,” he growled in her ear. “I think I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”
“You called me a bitch,” she reminded him, turning to look at him over her shoulder.
“And you called me a bastard,” he grinned. “I guess we deserve each other.”
She grinned too. “I guess we do at that.”
In one fluid motion, he turned her, sliding her tank top off and dropping it on the deck.
Pausing, he drank in the picture of her creamy body against the striped cushion; like a rare alabaster statue laid in a perfect, velvet nest. The dark, pinkish-brown of her nipples stood erect on the peaks of her soft, white breasts, not huge but a pleasant handful.
She could tell by the expression on his face, the look in his eyes, that what he saw pleased him and it pleased her to know that she hadn’t disappointed him. Carefully, she reached up and undid the two small buttons at the front of his polo shirt and tugged gently on the bottom edge. In a moment, it had joined her shirt on the deck.
A dusting of soft, dark brown hair covered the area between his nipples, coming together in a narrow line down his chest and stomach disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. She’d never cared for “hairy-chested” men but the feel of his down under her fingers aroused her in a way she’d never known.
“Come here,” she commanded lightly, wiggling her index finger at him.
Dutifully, he leaned forward, their lips meeting in a hard, passionate kiss, filled with fire and lust and need. His hands found her nipples, caressing them, fondling her tender, swollen peaks. A startled cry escaped her but he stopped it with his exploring tongue.
Fumbling with the brass fastener at the top of his jeans, she felt him suck in his stomach a little so that she could get a better hold. A moment later, his zipper fell and her soft, smooth hands were gliding along his skin as she pulled his jeans and boxers down toward his knees. He stood up to step out of them, stopping for her appraisal.
“Very nice,” she told him. “Very nice, indeed.”
“I’m glad you approve,” he answered, settling back down as he brought his hand to the snap at the waist of her shorts. “You’re very beautiful.”
They completed the heap of clothing as he slid back beside her and took her in his arms. His thick, erect cock pressed itself against her thigh, the heat of him like an iron against her flesh.
“You’d better be careful,” she whispered between kisses. “I don’t know about you, but I burn like cheap steak…especially parts of me that don’t usually see the sun.”
“I know just how to handle that,” he replied, pecking the tip of her nose and sitting up.
“What are you up to?”
“Just lie and back relax.”
Taking the bottle of sunscreen, he squeezed another large dollop into his palm and moved to the foot of the chaise. Sitting down, he picked up her feet and began massaging the thick, white cream into her sensitive skin, beginning with her toes and moving gradually up the ball and arch to the top and ankle. She shivered with a sensual tingle that prickled over her entire body.
His hands continued leisurely up her legs, pausing only for more sunscreen and to gently kiss the top of her knees as his hands moved underneath.
“Did you know that the back of a woman’s knees are among the most erogenous zones on her body?” he whispered hoarsely, his fingertips just barely touching her skin, his hot breath raising goose bumps.
“I…I didn’t know that…” she answered, barely able to breathe.
“Uh-huh,” he continued, “and if you nibble just so on the kneecaps…”
She felt his lips and the edges of his teeth around the bones, nipping and sucking on the thin flesh, his tongue marking a zigzag path across the top. A tremor of unexpected pleasure rippled through her. No one had ever played with her like this before, the sensation both whimsical and sexy.
Up her legs, covering her skin with the lotion, her rising heat under his hands fueling the fire in his own body. But he wanted…needed for this to be the best, most intense sex she’d ever known. To raise her to heights she’d never known before or would ever know again. Except with him.
She’d parted her legs for him and he saw the pink slit of her pussy surrounded by short black curls and skin like fine china. It glistened, wet and inviting and his cock strained to it. Gently, carefully, he bent his head down and kissed her hot, engorged clit.
Like an electric jolt it shot through her, expected but more powerful, more thrilling than she’d imagined. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip a little, not quite stifling the small cry of physical pleasure that escaped her.
But she got only the kiss as he moved up her body, his slick, smooth hands gliding effortlessly over the ridge of her pubic bone, across and around her stomach and thighs. They grabbed her ass, kneading the firm flesh and pushing her pussy to his burning cock. It struggled, trying to gain entry to her, but he wouldn’t allow it. Not yet anyway.
As his hands attacked her breasts and nipples once more, his mouth traveled up to her neck, nipping and biting the soft flesh, feeling her squirm beneath him.
Pinwheels of fire danced in her blood and her pussy screamed for him.
“What are you waiting for?” she mumbled anxiously, putting her hands on his ass, and pushing down.
“For you,” he replied, moving back down to her pussy.
Pinning her thighs securely, he took a last look at her clit, swollen with blood heated by desire. Desire for him, mirrored by his own cock, full of desire for her. She filled him with the outrageous lust Hefner’s forbidden magazine dolls had inspired in the days of his supercharged, hormone dominated teens. Except she was real and here. For him.
The sensations engulfed him. A touch of short curls and damp, silky skin. The scent of sunscreen and aroused female musk. Sweet, hot, wet pussy on his tongue. Blood racing and pounding in his ears, keeping time to the primal beat in his cock and sac as they ached for their own release.
He ran the flat of his tongue over the whole area, pulling back her lips and exposing her entrance. Reaching her clit again, he tickled it with the point of his tongue, feeling her writhe under him, squealing with delight.
Her pleasure fired his own, his pace quickening. Tiny moans rose rapidly to cries of ecstasy as she crested, her juices flooding out for him to capture and savor, her body clenched in the grip of its own passion.
Having satisfied her, at least for the moment, his barely controlled need pushed past endurance and he raised himself, bringing his iron hard cock to the mouth of her glistening pussy.
“Uh-uh,” she giggled, moving her fingers to cover herself. “I want to watch.”
“What?” he answered incredulously.
“I want to watch you come.”
“And just how do you propose we do that on this narrow little chaise?”
“Simple. You stay right where you are and play with yourself.”
He snorted. “Now why in God’s name would I want to jack off when I’m inches from a warm, desirable woman with the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen.”
Her fingertips moved across her wet clit. Raising them to his face, she brushed them lightly along his lips. “Because I want you to,” she purred. “Because I want to watch your cock and your body and your face when you come. And because it would make me even hornier than I am right now. So much that I’d want you so badly I’d probably do anything you asked.”
Torn, he hesitated. His cock blazed with the need of her. He had only to slide forward a few inches and he’d be home. She wouldn’t deny him, he knew. And lots more sex awaited them. This silly whim would be swept away on the riptide of passion and satisfaction he’d give her.
Still, that single word, ‘anything’ held such delight, such promise…
Rising to his knees, he readjusted his position to give himself better balance as he hovered over her.
Squirting sunscreen in his hand, he wrapped his fingers around the head of his cock, the thick white lotion oozing out between them as his fist moved slowly down its length to his balls. The coolness of it did nothing to quench the fire roaring through him.
“Slowly,” she ordered, her voice ragged.
Obediently, he slowed his tempo despite the complaint of his cock, eager for release. His hand traveled to his balls, caressing and separating them, showing them to her in all their fiery glory.
He watched her now, as caught up in her passion as his own. The tip of her tongue moved along her lips as his fingers traveled up and down his cock. Her breasts rose and fell in time to his shallow, noisy breathing. Ivory skin tinged pink with her internal heat, covered, like his cock, in a sheen of lotion and sweat. Those dark, hungry eyes, hypnotized by the rhythm of his writhing snake as he charmed it. And that beautiful pussy, pink and swollen and inflamed just by the sight of him.
The orgasm tore him, ripping a bellow that echoed in the still afternoon sunshine like something wild, spilling through the tall pines and out to the calm water. His fluid spurted out, splattering like lotion on her pussy and curls and sleek stomach.
Spent, he collapsed forward, covering her carefully, feeling her arms and lips and smooth flesh.
“You’re beautiful,” she mumbled. “So very beautiful.”
“And you’d do anything for me?”
“Anything…”
Elgin frowned as she finished reading the scene for the third time since she’d completed it a little more than an hour ago. Vague dissatisfaction gnawed, although the exact cause eluded her. The opening gambit in these woodland sex games would set the tone for the rest of the book and somehow, this scene had failed to strike the right note with her. She knew what she wanted, but the right words just weren’t coming to her.
Ah well, she sighed, shutting down her laptop and glancing at her bedside clock. The day had been long and tiring and she really had intended to take a long, relaxing bath as she’d told Harm when she’d retired upstairs. But the sight of her laptop on the little table in the corner of her bedroom had beckoned to her.
The clock gleamed after eleven now and time for bed. She’d deal with the book and Campbell Harm tomorrow.