Masters 02 Master of the Abyss (10 page)

Her boots thudded on the boardwalk, and then she crossed the street, leaving the downtown section. One night of having sex with him—she couldn’t call it making love—had only added more to dream about. How she’d felt with his cock inside her while he’d held her in his arms so tightly that there didn’t seem to be any part of her he hadn’t touched. How his fingers had dug into her hips when he’d come. How he’d watched her when he’d pinned her down, not letting her move at all as he’d…

Great
. Now she ached in all the wrong spots.
Dummy.

About a mile up the gravel road, houses sat acres apart, and the trees thickened into forest, blocking some of the moonlight. A car approached, its lights shining between the trunks, and disappeared down a side road. Pity. She could have asked for a ride. Occasionally using the flashlight for the darker sections, she forged onward against the ever-steepening rise of the road. Her footsteps crunched on the loose gravel. A slight breeze rustled the trees, bringing the crisp scent of snow from the surrounding mountains.

She’d walked over two miles when a shiver ran up her spine, and she slowed. Stopped. Something—or someone—was watching her, the feeling identical to when she’d spot a cougar or coyote watching nearby. Turning in a slow circle, she studied the area. No eyes flashed in the moonlight. Lights from the distant houses were barely visible through the heavy forest. No self-respecting cougar or coyote would try to worm through the thick undergrowth beside the road.

A human? Whatever it was, right now she felt way too much like prey.

Her shoulders tensed. Whatever it was didn’t make a sound. Great. Where was her rifle when she needed it? Hellfire, she hadn’t even strapped on her knife. Should she head back to town? She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and spun. A small shape sprang across the road and disappeared into the blackness of the ditch.
Someone’s cat
. The antsy feeling didn’t leave.

Suck it up and keep going. Faster
. Her skin crept as if the tiny nerve endings could detect whatever was watching her. Muscles tensed, she started walking again. A rustle sounded behind her, and she turned. On the other side of the road, the bushes swayed. Something big was over there. A bear? Bears hung around campgrounds, true, but they didn’t stalk humans.

Her hands clenched into fists. More likely a human animal—some bastard was following her. The dying flashlight was too weak to reach the other side—and would simply pinpoint her location. Well, thanks to her cousins’ lessons, the cowardly lurker wouldn’t find her easy prey.

The rumble of a vehicle sounded, and a truck came slowly around the curve. The headlights blinded her as she moved closer to the shoulder. It stopped.

“Get in.” Jake’s voice.

She blinked, trying to restore her night vision, started to say no, and stopped.
Don’t be dumber than you have been already
. As she neared the passenger side, he leaned over and pushed the door open.

She stepped up and slid onto the seat. The sweeping feeling of relief made her voice shake. “Thanks.”

Despite the dash lights, his expression was unreadable. He regarded her for a long moment, then turned the heat to high. As the blast of hot air hit her, her tense muscles started to unravel.
Warm
. She sagged against the seat, inhaling the fragrance of leather and Jake’s musky forest scent.
Safe.

His prey had been removed from his grasp. When her car wouldn’t start, he’d thought it was a true intervention, but he might have been wrong. Perhaps darkness had not yet totally consumed her soul. He watched the truck, the red taillights glowing at him like demon eyes as it accelerated up the road.

With both relief and disappointment, he tossed the heavy branch into the underbrush and turned back to town. He must not act without certainty, although he’d hardened like a true man at the thought of vanquishing another.

But he’d watch.

Jake shoved his anger down…again…and kept silent as he drove up the road. The winding curves required concentration, although he’d stopped drinking a while back. The tension eased out of him slowly, but he was still damned pissed off. He’d seen her depart—alone—which had pleased him more than he found comfortable. He’d left later, only to spot her Jeep parked next to Rebecca’s car in the parking lot. A green-faced young man slumped against the tavern wall told him a short woman had left the Jeep and taken off. Walking.

Walking
. If she’d been his sub, he might well have pulled down her pants and spanked the hell out of her for her foolhardiness.

Might anyway.

They’d both enjoy it.

At the sign MASTERSON WILDERNESS GUIDE SERVICE, Jake turned off onto the tiny gravel road and drove downhill almost a quarter mile into a tiny valley. The forest continued on the left but opened to fenced pastures on the right and a clearing in front. As he pulled the truck to a stop, the moonlight showed a massive barn near the pastures and a two-story log cabin nestled up against the trees. No lights on.

“Nobody home?” Jake asked.

She shook her head. “Virgil has night shift this week. Morgan and Wyatt are out on Gray Mountain with a big group. They’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

As if doing the calculations—empty house all night—Jake’s cock hardened. Bad idea, he told it, but when had a man’s dick ever listened to the voice of reason?

He swung out of the truck and walked around. As he’d expected, she didn’t wait for the common courtesy of having her door opened, but hopped out on her own. Steady on her feet too. “For someone who drank as much as you did, you’re pretty sober.”

“I stopped early,” she said. “Besides: cold air, nice hike. A little scare.”

She was on the wide front porch by the time her last three words registered with him. She didn’t mean him, dammit. He took her elbow and spun her around. “What scare?”

“Nothing important.”

Her nonchalant manner was starting to annoy him.

“Thanks for the ride, Jake.”

He took the keys from her, ignored her futile snatch to get them back, and opened the door. Setting his hand on her lower back, he nudged her inside…and followed. Definitely a home, not a fancy house. The small entry to dump gear and outer clothing and boots led into a huge living room. The log walls had been polished to a muted sheen. Some shelves held books; some held the clutter of DVDs and change. One displayed intricately carved Old West figures. He walked over. A corral, a barn, tiny men with weapons drawn. He could almost see the shots being exchanged, and he chuckled as he figured it out—a depiction of the fight at the OK Corral. Old Harvey Masterson’s passion. “These are remarkable. Where’d you find them?”

“I whittle.”

“You? Well, damn. I might try to talk you into doing some for the lodge.” He glanced around at the rest of the room. Comfortable, oversize furniture, coffee tables that you could put your feet on, heavy-duty woodstove. “Nice place.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” She took her keys back and tried to shake his hand, as gracious and distant as a queen. “I appreciate the lift.”

Here’s your hat and what’s your hurry, eh
? He took her hand and pulled her closer. “We’ll discuss the need for that lift later,” he said, unable to keep the roughness out of his voice. “Meantime—hell!”

He shoved her behind him as a massive cat stalked across the room and sprang onto the back of the couch. Black ear tufts stuck up like a bobcat’s, and a tail puffed out as big as a raccoon’s. “That can’t be a cat. What the hell is it?”

Her husky chuckle was as effective as fingers stroking his cock.

The beast stared at them with golden green, unblinking eyes.

“He’s a Maine coon cat, and his name’s Mufasa.”

“Mufasa in
The Lion King
? Simba’s kick-ass father?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Very good. I’m surprised.”

“I’ve got a hoard of nieces and nephews.” From the size of those front paws, the cat could probably disembowel a person with one swipe. He kept an eye on it as he pulled Kallie to face him. Cupping his hands under her pretty, round ass, he slid her up his body to take her mouth.

Seductive lips—and damn him for thinking about how they’d feel around his cock. Her sigh whispered into him, and her muscles started to yield, turning soft and supple. Then she slapped a hand against his chest. “Stop.”

With a disappointed grumble, he released her and stepped back.

She blinked in surprise. “You know, it’s nice not to have to struggle when I object.”

“A dom should be able to hear when a woman is or isn’t playing.” The dom in him also noted the arousal heating her cheeks, the redness of her lips from more than his kiss. But her brain had overruled her desires. And unfortunately that brain was still working. Her mouth firmed into a stubborn line that made him want to kiss it back to softness.

“You told me ‘one night,’ Jake. You made that quite clear, and I appreciated your honesty. Obviously you meant what you said—you haven’t called me since.” She crossed her arms over her chest, high enough to conceal the peaked nipples apparent through her tank top.

He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. “This is true.”

“So you have a couple of beers, and suddenly you want to screw around. No.”

Her eyes held anger…and hurt. His amusement disappeared.

She saw the laughter fade from his eyes and his jaw turn to stone, and somehow it only made her want him the more.

“First, alcohol isn’t a factor. Second…” He stroked a finger down her cheek, and she felt as if she could fall into his eyes, as clear as a high mountain stream.

“Kallie, I refuse to get involved. With anyone. Ever.” He paused and added, “And yet, I want to make love to you. I want you on your knees in front of me, those soft lips around my cock. I want you bound and helpless on my bed. I want to spank you and take you so long and hard you’ll walk bowlegged for a week.”

Oh. God
. Her breathing turned ragged. She cleared her throat. Why had she said she appreciated his honesty? “Well.” She swallowed and tried again. “You want to…to play…without any involvement, is that right?”

“Is that possible?” He caught her chin, keeping her from looking away.

I want him
. But could she take the inevitable end? Her feelings had already taken a blow from only one night. How many could she survive before she fell? “I need to think about it.”

“Fair enough.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Come and lock the door behind me.”

She flipped the lock and listened to the sound of the truck fade into the night. As she stepped away from the door, she remembered…something…had lurked in the darkness by the road. Maybe she’d latch the windows too.

Tomorrow she’d take a group up the mountain and be able to relax. No place was as safe as the wilderness.

* * *

Early the next week, Jake loafed on the ground with his back against a log and contentedly sipped a cup of coffee. The day was just starting to chill off now that night had fallen. They’d hiked an easy three hours, enough to give his muscles a nice workout, and stopped early to make a leisurely camp. On the other side of the crackling fire, the older couple, Steve and Evelyn, sat side by side, watching the campfire and talking quietly. With more energy, Heather and Andrew had walked down to the nearby stream for a quick washup. Across the clearing, Kallie did supper cleanup, having refused any help. “My job,” she’d said, and insisted he and the clients should simply enjoy the evening.

And they would, he thought with a smile.

Originally Logan had planned to accompany these two couples and continue their instruction in BDSM, but when Rebecca had picked up a nasty flu, he hadn’t wanted to leave her. Jake shook his head. His bro gave new meaning to the word
doting
. So Jake had taken his place.

With Kallie as the guide… Well, he’d planned to allow the sprite more time before calling her, but he had to admit her presence added to his enjoyment of the day. The woman was a cheerful bundle of energy, and she’d delighted the two couples. She was everything a person might want in a trail guide: she managed to spot any wildlife in the area, from mule deer to porcupines, could identify all the plants and trees, and knew both the geology and the history of Yosemite. Rather than lecturing, she’d drop tidbits of interesting facts and elaborate if anyone expressed interest.

He considered himself a damn good guide. With growing pride, he’d come to realize she was better. His tough little sprite.

No. Not mine.

Heather and Andrew appeared, and Jake motioned both couples over. “All right, are you ready to get started?”

Nods all around. Good enough. He smiled at the two women, then glanced at the men. “Your submissives, gentlemen. Here to do anything you want them to.” Within reason, he didn’t add, but to remind everyone that there were limits, he asked, “Heather, what is your safe word?”

A pale blonde with the coloring to match, she flushed beautifully. “Diamond.”

“Evelyn?” Jake nodded to the round brunette in her early forties. Although she gave a motherly impression—someone who would make cookies and snuggle children against her small, cuddly body—she was a renowned orthopedic surgeon.

“Darth Vader,” she said.

“Interesting choice.”

Steve stroked his goatee. “I believe she accompanied it with a nasty threat: ‘Don’t make me destroy you,’” he added in a raspy voice.

Jake stifled a laugh. “Well, if she uses it, you’d best pay attention.” He studied the group for a minute. Anticipation and a few nerves. Good enough. “Gentlemen, please direct your submissives to remain here, and then join me over there.” He pointed to the other side of the campsite.

The professor gave him a blank look, but Andrew caught the clue. “Heather, kneel. Hands behind your back.” He waited to be sure she’d done as directed before strolling across the clearing with Jake.

Jake saw the unspoken
got it
from Steve. “Evelyn, the slave position. Now.”