Off the Grid Page 6

  Her eyes dilated and her nostrils flared. Her pink lips parted. He stepped back. “So now we want to break it farther down to the right length for us,” he said, backpedaling to break the wood before he gave into temptation. He broke it accordingly, and handed it back. “Next we’ll strip it down with our knives.” They worked in silence as the air around them charged with tension. “Since fishing line is a luxury item, we’ll find the right vines to act as our line.”

  “Not going easy on a reporter, huh?” she asked.

  “Then I’d damage my reputation. I’m going to expect more from you after all the one-on-one we’ll have.”

  “I’ll make you proud, Finch.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.” He might be rusty at flirting, but it seemed to flow naturally between them. “We’ll grab some of the trees closer to the stream. Keep your eyes out for ones that are about eighteen to twenty inches.”

  They gathered the vines, carved a U-shaped hook from green wood, and made their way to the stream.

  “Now can we dig for worms?” she asked in a silly tone that lightened his heavy heart. She was an unexpected contagious ray of sunshine.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They dug into the mud, baited their hooks, and cast out. She got the first bite, pulling the flopping carp in with a wicked glee. “Hope you can keep up with me.”

  He laughed at her competitive spirit. “You want to go there with me?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m challenging the Lord of the Forest.”

  “You’re on. For that, I’m going to let you handle the fish yourself.”

  She held up a hand. “Hey, I got this. I kept up with all three of my brothers, I can certainly do the same with one of you.”

  A few minutes later she had her fish strung up and in the water, and he got a bite on his hook. They continued their hot streak over the next hour, gently ribbing one another as they added more to their catch.

  “All right, time to tally them up, clean them out, store some and keep the rest for dinner.”

  “I have twelve.”

  “Ten,” he said.

  She did an impromptu victory dance, waving her hands above her as she spun around.

  “We know you can catch them, let’s see how well you can clean them,” he tossed at her.

  She pulled out her knife. “Give me your best shot, Finch.”

  They both got to work slicing them up the center, rinsing them out in the river, and removing the scales. He finished first, and sat at back, content to watch her skillfully handle the fresh seafood.

  “Task completed. I want to see how you stockpile for the winter.”

  “I have massive freezers out back, and I do a lot of smoking meats. We’ll set that up with a wigwam and sallow leaves. Then we’ll let it dry out.”

  “I thought we were smoking it.”

  “Well essentially drying it out is what you’re doing when you smoke it. You can leave the fish whole or you can cut it down into strips. Since there are two of us, I’d say we can filet them since the processing time will be cut in half.”

  “How the hell am I going to go back to ordinary, boring life after this?” she asked as they pulled the fish from the water and began the journey back to camp.

  “Am I converting you?”

  “I’ll definitely be spending more time outdoors.”

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

  She walked so close their hands nearly brushed as they walk. Intently aware of her proximity, he started a conversation when he usually preferred silence.

  “So we’ll gather up a few branches to form a mini wigwam, tie it off over the fire, and let them smoke through on racks I have sitting out back.” Her hand brushed his. His heart sped up and he swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. She was turning him inside out without trying. An interesting combination of quirks, she intrigued him. He wanted to know more about her. We have a month.

  Chapter Four

  Lilac

  It was easy falling into a routine with Thorn. He taught, she learned, and they prepared for the winter. She’d gotten enough to write a small instructional pamphlet on living off the grid. What she wanted to know more about was the enigmatic man who worked beside her daily. He had a sense of humor when he let himself relax enough to let it show. There were two versions of him: the person who remained closed off and the one who let her in little by little. She studied him over the rim of her mug.

  They’d percolated coffee over the fire cowboy-style. He made this life look easy, but she understood, he’d also had years of preparation and hard work to get to this point.

  “What’s on the agenda for today, Finch?” Two weeks into the assignment she was feeling fairly well versed.

  “The same thing we do every day, Fehr. Try to prepare for the winter.”

  She giggled at his reference. “So more fishing? Checking snares?”

  “You know what? We can have a down day. I’m usually working, so this is more time than I’ve had in a long while. We may as well enjoy it. Both of us can have a hot shower, do our laundry, and hang out in the cabin. What do you think?”

  “Are you serious?” She sat up straight. The thought of hot water on her skin, scrubbing her hair, and sitting on something other than the chilly cold ground was like a bar of chocolate to a woman on her period.

  He chuckled. “Your face says it all. A day off it is. I’ve been working you hard for the past two weeks.”

  “I’m not saying this is like a boot camp, but I’m pretty sure you could get women to pay hundreds to be out here a week losing weight and toning up. I won’t even be able to fit my clothes by the time I leave here in another two weeks.”

  “Then we need to feed you more, ’cause your frame is just fine the way it is.”

  She blinked. Did he just compliment me?

  “Come on.” He dumped his coffee on the fire and held out his hand. She took it. Sparks traveled up her arm and she shivered.

  “Cold?”

  “Just a chill from the wind, you know how that is.”

  He peered down at her. “Yeah, I know.” His voice deepened, and his hands skimmed down her arms. Goose bumps formed over her flesh, despite the navy blue thermal shirt and thick sweater. They were a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate. The man was so virile it made her ache. The stubble that lined his jaw did nothing to help her think rationally. She wanted to know what his lips would taste like, and how his hair would feel under her fingertips. Every time a lock fell across his forehead, it was a struggle not to brush it away.

  A funny thing happened when you were all alone with someone in the woods. You became incredibly close and familiar with one another in a short amount of time. It was an intense intimacy she’d never felt with another being. Forged over incredible sunrises, nights by the fire, and the beauty of nature it felt special and poignant. They could read one another. He hefted her backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and took her hand.

  Fingers laced, they made the trek to the cabin in a comfortable silence as their status quo shifted. Thorn didn’t seem like a casual toucher. Everything he did had purpose. Which left her wondering what that meant for them.

  “Ladies first,” he said as he gestured toward the shower.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  He set the pack down beside the door, and she pulled it over by the shower, removing items until she reached the clothing packed in the center. She quickly rifled through her options, pulling out what she needed. Modesty had gone out the window ages ago. They were in a small space with little to no privacy. Hell, they peed in the woods, dug trenches for their poop and buried it. There was no such thing as dignity, simply necessity, and natural bodily functions. It took the awkwardness out of things. She carried her clothing, body wash, and shampoo. Setting the clothing on the railing, she stripped down, bagged the dirty clothing, and carefully placed it outside of the shower stall. After unbraiding her hair, she turned on the water.

  The
warm spray was mana from heaven as it beaded down over her skin, wetting her skin and soaking her hair. She grabbed her shampoo and began to lather up, massaging her scalp. The flowery scent filled the space as she washed away the sweat and grime of the past weeks. Tilting her head back, she put a dollop of clear body wash in her hand. Lathering up, she washed down her arms and chest. She missed the apple scent of her normal bathing products, but knew it was better to not smell like something edible when she’d be sleeping outside.

  Moving down her body in circles she thought of Thorn. She shivered. Her flesh bumped as her fingertips skated over full breasts. Her nipples peaked, and her belly tightened. The only thing separating them was two layers of plastic. The knowledge turned her on. What would he do if he heard me? She felt decadent and naughty as she moved her hands down to her belly and soaped up her pussy. Her core pulsed as desire flowed through her blood stream like hot lava. It’d been a long time since she’d been with a man. She bit her lower lip and brushed her clit lightly with her thumb. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back imagining Thorn’s five o’clock shadow brushing against her skin.

  She choked back a moan as her hips bucked. I need more friction. It was too late to turn back now; she needed to pull the pressure release valve on what had formed between them. When she pushed two fingers into her tight sheath, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  Angling her fingers, she pumped. Nerve endings lit up like a pinball machine inside of her. Tiny whimpers spilled free as her body trembled. This was what she’d been craving as his big frame pressed against her while he demonstrated the proper way to throw a knife. When his large hands engulfed hers while he helped her over slippery terrain. So close. Her walls flexed and the dam broke as she came, hard, gasping his name as she tumbled head first into sweet bliss.

  Resting against the wall she rode out the afterglow as the water cleaned her and she let herself deal with the potent attraction that bombarded her from all sides when she interacted with Thorn. Recovered, and slightly embarrassed, she finished her routine, toweled off, and pulled on her clothing. Please tell me he didn’t hear that. Wrapping the dirty T-shirt around her hair to catch the water, she stepped out and found a heavy-lidded Thorn standing a few inches from the shower. Shit.

  “It’s all yours,” she said in an attempt to play it cool.

  He stepped forward and framed her face. “Is it?”

  “Thorn?”

  “We both feel this.” He brushed his lips against hers. Want sliced through her like a knife. “Do we act on it?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “I do.” He lowered his head and she lost herself in the slick texture of the tongue stroking the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. She opened and he eased inside, bringing his flavor. He was a rustic coffee-flavored treat. His musky sandalwood and forest scent surrounded her, making her knees weak. She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting go of the apprehension that held her back. Tilting their heads, they deepened the kiss, nipping and sucking.

  She buried her fingers in his soft hair, scraping his scalp with her nails. He groaned and pulled her closer as they surfaced for air.

  She rested her head on his chest, enjoying the way he surrounded her. At five foot eleven, she was usually about the same height as most men she’d dated.

  “You taste even better than I thought you would,” he rasped.

  “So do you,” she whispered.

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I have no idea,” she admitted.

  He pulled back. “Do you think this will compromise your story? I don’t want to get in the way of you living your dreams.”

  After taking a moment to think it over, she shook her head. The fact that he’d thought about how it would affect her in the long run made her want him more. “No, it’s about the lifestyle, not you.”

  “Do you want to continue this?”

  “Yes.” There was no point in being coy when she finally found everything she’d been looking for in a man. He was strong, confident, skilled, and humorous. Every day she saw more of the man he was and had yet to balk.

  “Then we will.” He stroked a finger down the side of her face. “This was the last thing I expected to happen.”

  “I know. Me either.” She couldn’t stop the wide smile from stretching her lips upward.

  “Okay, I really need to shower now.” They laughed. “I set the laptop out for you. You can surf the web, or watch one of the movies I have in the drawer that pulls out from under the table.”

  “I can entertain myself. I actually think I might check in with the folks so they know I’m doing okay.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I don’t want them to come down here guns blazing.”

  “They are not that bad,” she said.

  “Uh huh.” He placed a sweet kiss on her temples and moved away.

  She rolled her eyes and took her soiled clothes over to the laundry basket before returning to the computer.

  Crossed leg with the machine on her lap, she opened her email and laughed. Cece sent her an email a day.

  Hey, Cece, as you can see I’m still alive and well. Pluses, I’m going to come back from this trip buff as hell. Minuses, going for days on end without a shower isn’t exactly my cup of tea. We’re getting along great, and I’m learning a lot. I’ve been surprised to realize how much I retained from Grandma Rose, which has made this trip that much more special. I’ll try to do my best to check back in next week. Don’t worry so much.

  Love you,

  Lilac.

  She opened her email and wrote a few sentences, assuring her family she was fine before she sent them the message in a mass email.

  As she hit send a chime with Alexa’s email popped up. Her stomach sank. Part of her wanted to ignore it, but the other part needed to know what the woman had to say. She opened the letter. Her blood pressure sky rocketed toward the moon.

  Sloppy seconds, backstabbing, and poor man’s replacement jumped off the screen like a screaming person. How dare she accuse me of manipulating anyone? I’ll leave that shit to her. The very thought of being under Peter made her dry heave. With his lecherous smile, roaming hands, and spray bottle tan, he was too fake to take seriously. Her flippant comment that she would remain at the top of the food chain while Lilac remained at the bottom where she deserved to be hit her like a sucker punch. This woman needed to be taken down a few pegs and have several seats, and she was the bitch who’d make sure that happened. I’m going to write the fuck out of this story.

  She paused, staring at the words. She could respond, but that would lower her down to Alexa’s level. It’d be worse to make her sweat it out. Let’s show her how much of a non-factor she is. Closing out her email, she took a deep breath. She would not let this wretched waste of space ruin what had been an incredible experience so far. The romantic turn the trip took was a plus. It had nothing to do with her being a warm, willing body. Did it? He’d been out here alone for a long time. Had she been blinded by her own needs?

  She glanced over at the shower area. He seemed like such a genuine person. But Alexa had history with him, current and previous. Maybe he was a case of too good to be true. The ardor she’d experienced earlier cooled. Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned back into the couch cushions. She needed to keep her eyes open and her heart guarded. She’d been through enough over the past few weeks. One more thing might be the tipping point. The shower stopped and she scrambled to get a movie going and look relaxed.

  ***

  Thorn

  It felt good to be clean. He got oblivious to things when he was out in the forest, but now he had a woman he wanted to impress. He admitted it to himself. He wanted Lilac, and not for a quick roll in the hay. Her easy acceptance of his lifestyle and genuine passion to get more intimately acquainted with it, opened him up in a way he hadn’t been able to with any other woman since he’d returned home. His life had revolved around work, producing a self-sufficient home
and life, and the occasional sexual release with Alexa. This was a chance for more than that. After drying off with a towel, he slipped on a fresh pair of cargo khaki’s and a white T-shirt. He moved out of the shower, and gathered his things.

  Lilac sat on the couch, cross legged watching one of his favorite comedies. Her large curls framed her face, making her look even younger than her thirty-two years. He paused to admire her for a moment.

  “You ready to do laundry?” he asked.

  She sat up. “Yep.”

  “After this we can relax while everything dries.” He tossed his clothing into the basket and lifted it. “Can you get the washing powder under the sink?”

  “I’m on it.”

  They made their way out the back and loaded the old washing machine from the 50s. While he plugged it up to a small generator, she added the soap powder. He shut the lid and it fired up.

  “And now we wait.”

  “Where did you even find this thing? I haven’t seen anything like this since Leave it to Beaver.”

  “It’s amazing what you can acquire on the internet for a price.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “How long do we have?”

  Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to him. “Long enough.” He cupped her chin and lowered his head. He nipped her full bottom lip, then soothed the tender flesh with the tip of his tongue. He traced the curve, slipping his tongue into her parted lips. Her breathy sighs made him strain against his zipper. He deepened the kiss, getting drunk off her open responses.

  She fisted his shirt and rose on her tiptoes, tilting his head as she sought more. He ran his hands down her back to cup her bubble butt. Kneading the supple flesh, he trailed his kisses down her graceful neck. The need to sample every inch of her soft skin drove him. She buried her fingers in his hair. Chills ran down his spine. The washer stopped its cycle, and he nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent.