Some Like It Wild (10 page)

When we reach the top, I carefully walk the exposed rocks over to the center of the river. I stop to look down. I revel in the rush of adrenaline from the height and from seeing the water crashing into the pool below.

I hear Laney gasp beside me. “Oh Lord! That’s a long way down. It doesn’t look that far from the bottom.”

“Nah, it’s not
too
high.”

She throws me a sidelong glance. “Too high for what?”

I give her my most persuasive grin. “To jump.”

“Have you lost your mind? There’s no way in the world I’m jumping off this thing.”

“Oh, come on. I’ll be down there to catch you.”

“Catch me? Don’t you mean to drag my dead, lifeless body from the water after I drown?”

“Of course that’s not what I mean. If it were dangerous, I’d never suggest you jump. I just think this would be good for you.”

“How, exactly, would risking my life be good for me?”

“You need to let go a little, Laney. I know you want to. You need to take some risks. Be spontaneous. Stop thinking so much. Do some things you wouldn’t normally do. Trust me, when you surface down there, your adrenaline will be all jacked up, and there’s no feeling like it in the world.”

“That’s not the kind of thing I was hoping to achieve.”

“You want to forget. To escape. This will consume you. And sometimes we all need to dive into something else and be lost. Even if it’s just for a little while. It’s worth it, Laney. I promise.”

She leans over and looks down again, nervously worrying her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Jake. That’s a long way down.”

“You’ll be in the water, all safe and sound, in a matter of seconds.”

“My clothes will be ruined,” she says, trying to find reasons not to do it.

“Take them off.”

“I told you I’m not skinny-dipping.”

“This isn’t skinny-dipping. This is more like cliff diving. In the buff. And it’s safer if you aren’t wearing clothes that you could get tangled up in. And certainly not shoes that could weigh you down.”

“So you want me to jump off this thing, naked, and then climb back up here to get my clothes? I think not.”

“Fine,” I say, sighing. “I’ll climb back up here afterward and get them for you. You can watch my bare ass from down there. Maybe you’ll even want to reward me for my heroics.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, trying to lighten the mood, to make her feel less afraid. I don’t want her fear completely gone, though. That’s part of the experience. It’ll heighten what she feels. And that rush . . .

Damn! That rush and the way everything else vanishes is worth almost anything.

She doesn’t say no right away, which tells me that she’ll agree to it. Eventually.

I grab the hem of my T-shirt, pull it over my head, and throw it toward the base of a tree on the bank. I step to a rock nearer the edge of the fall as I take off first one shoe and sock, then the other, tossing it all over to where my shirt landed. When I’m standing at the edge, with the hiss of gushing water at my back, facing Laney, I meet her eyes and grin.

Her gaze is glued to mine, as if she’s trying her best to look at my face rather than what I’m doing with my hands. I open the snap of my shorts. Then I unzip them. I’m not wearing any underwear, so there’s nothing to obstruct her view of me when I step out of my shorts and throw them to the bank.

“See you down there,” I say quietly, smiling when her eyes flicker low and then back up to my face. I see her cheeks burn bright red and I laugh just before I turn around and jump straight over the waterfall.

And everything else disappears.

Except for the feeling that I’m flying.

And free.

And alive.

And that nothing else matters.

FIFTEEN:
Laney

O
h sweet Jesus! He did it!

My heart is like a runaway train. His whoop of delight is still echoing in my head as I step onto the rock closest to the edge and look over, holding my breath until I see Jake’s head break the surface away from the white spray.

Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod, I can’t do this!

Blood is rushing behind my ears even louder than the water. My pulse is racing and I feel short of breath.

I look left and right. The mossy bank looks a thousand miles away. Then I look down at Jake’s handsome, laughing face, and so does he.

“Your turn,” he calls up to me as he shakes his head one more time, making his hair stand up in spikes.

“No way,” I reply, feeling a little panicky that I’m up here by myself.

“Come on, Laney. You can do this. Trust me.”

“Trust you? You’re obviously insane. Why should I trust you?”

It seems an inordinately long amount of time passes before he replies. And, even then, I have to strain to hear his low voice.

“Because trusting everyone else has gotten you nowhere. Take a chance for once in your life. Take a chance on me.”

Common sense and self-preservation are locking horns with the lure of Jake and all that he represents as he stares up at me from the churning pool below.

I feel frantic. On edge. Literally and figuratively. But, again, something rises up and takes a dominant position. I don’t take the time to examine it. Or reason with it. Like I’ve wanted to do, I just surrender to it. To freedom. To escape.

To Jake.

Closing my eyes, I bend and pull off my boots and socks. I hear Jake’s holler of delight. “That’s my girl!”

I can’t help but smile.

He really is the devil.

I chuck them as hard as I can toward the shore. They land not far from Jake’s clothes. Swallowing every bit of shy, responsible, fairly chaste Laney, I pull my tank top over my head and throw it at the tree. Then my shorts.

When I’m standing at the top of a huge waterfall, wearing nothing but my underwear, staring down at a guy who takes my breath away, I shred the last little bit of reservation that I have.

Along with my bra and panties.

And then, without another second’s thought or hesitation, I leap.

The chains of who I’ve always been, of who my family is and what’s expected of me, break away as I fly through the air. Dropping, dropping, dropping, everything fades away but for the sound of the water, the feel of the wind, the thrill of the moment, and the man at the bottom.

He’s waiting for me there. All sorts of new and unexplored things are waiting for me there. This is an existential leap, as much as a physical one. There’s no turning back now. I might as well embrace it.

The cool water swallows me up, slowing my descent and stealing the air from my lungs. The muffled sound of churning water swooshes by my ears as the undertow pulls at my legs.

I swim for the surface and don’t stop until I feel the sun on my face.

And I open my eyes to see Jake. He swam to get me, just in case I didn’t come up. Just like he promised.

He’s smiling. And I am, too. All over. Every cell. I can feel it.

I’ve never felt lighter. Happier. More optimistic. And I don’t even know what I’m optimistic
about
.

He’s laughing when his arms reach around me and drag my body to his. All I can think of is how I want this moment—here, with Jake, feeling like this—to last forever. And there’s only one thing that could make it better, that could cement it in my head and in my heart.

Digging my hands into his hair, I pull Jake’s mouth to mine. His lips are cool and soft, and they taste of the water and the fresh air.

Brazenly, I slip my tongue into his mouth, asking him for things I don’t have the courage to say, offering him things I don’t have the strength to hold on to.

Then he’s kissing me back, his hands roving my back, tugging at my hair. His smooth chest is teasing my nipples, his firm thighs are tangling with mine.

And then I’m weightless again. I don’t even open my eyes to see where Jake is taking me. All I know is that my body is still pressed to his and the world cares only for what’s happening between us right this minute. Nothing else matters.

The grass is soft and cool against my back. Jake’s body is hot and hard as it covers mine. I groan into his mouth and arch against him, a silent plea for more. Just . . . more.

Spreading my legs, I reach around and dig my fingers into Jake’s smooth, hard butt and I pull him toward me, craving him in places that ache with want of him. With a growl, he drags his lips away from mine and kisses a fiery trail down my throat to my breast.

When his mouth closes around my cool nipple, I gasp. The sensation is stronger, deeper. Heightened. The sky swirls behind my eyes. The river rushes behind my ears.

Jake licks and sucks his way from my nipples to my navel, and the earth collapses into a pinpoint of pleasure when I feel him move farther down to settle between my thighs. The first touch of his tongue to my throbbing flesh brings my hips up off the ground. Relentless, he lays his arm across my stomach to hold me still as he mouth plunders my every slick crevice and hidden desire.

Over and over, his tongue sweeps across my most sensitive part, bringing me higher and higher, further and further away from reality. Until, like the waterfall, my climax crashes down over me.

His lips sucking at me, his fingers penetrating me, Jake perpetuates my orgasm until I can barely breathe. My head is spinning with it. My body is drenched with it. The world is alive with it.

“Are you on the pill?” he asks, his voice nothing more than a muffled groan.

I nod in answer, unable to find words in the midst of what he’s doing to my body.

“Do you trust me? I promise you I’m clean.”

Again, I nod. And, truthfully, I do. Or I wouldn’t have jumped off a waterfall and into his arms.

His fingers disappear as Jake shifts his weight. I want to cry at the loss, but then, reality splinters again when he enters me.

He’s so big, stretches me so tight, I cry out. Not in pain, but in the most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever known.

When he starts to move within me, I feel the tension return, stronger than ever and threatening to overwhelm me completely.

“Oh fuuu—” he moans into my ear as he withdraws and plunges into me again. “Oh my God, I never thought it would feel like this,” he says, his voice sounding nearly pained in his passion. “You’re so tight. And so wet.” More excited than I’ve ever been, I’m panting, almost delirious with what is happening between us.

“Jake, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby. I’m gonna make you come all over me again and again. I wanna feel you squeeze me. I want you to feel it running down your ass. And then I’m gonna lick you until you come again.” His words are an aphrodisiac, his body the sweetest torture device. Fiercely, he pumps into me, as if he knows I’m close. So, so close . . . “And then, I’m gonna put my cock back in and you’ll come with me. I’ll fill you up, baby. I’ll fill you up with
me
.”

With one hard, deep thrust, just as his mouth covers mine, it happens again. Wave after wave of it, sweeping me further away from all the things that never really mattered. Right now,
this
matters.
Only
this matters.

True to his word, Jake withdraws from me and moves down my body, using his lips and his tongue and his fingers to send me tumbling from one orgasm to the next. My legs feel limp when he spreads them even wider, placing his hand behind one knee and pushing it against my chest. I’m convinced I don’t have anything left to give him.

But he persists. And I let him. I’m putty in his hands.

When Jake enters me this time, I feel it all the way in my stomach, like his body is merging with mine. I can feel every long, thick inch as he pulls out. And I can feel every long, thick inch as he plunges back into me. The friction is delicious, the pleasure undeniable.

Much to my surprise, as Jake manipulates my body, the tension builds once again. I’m convinced it will lead nowhere. Until I feel Jake’s hot, pulsing release. With a growl, he grinds his body into mine, triggering spasms deep inside me.

True to his word, he’s making me come with him. I can feel my muscles clutch at him, pulling him farther into me, milking him until I feel his shoulders shudder beneath my hands.

“That’s right, baby. Take it all. Uhhh,” he groans through gritted teeth as he strains against me. And then he collapses on top of me, spent.

We lie, joined together, for what seems like an eternity. My body feels numb, but it also feels like there’s a hum of tingling nerve activity right below the surface of my skin.

When Jake finally raises his head to look down at me, I feel him twitch inside me. He’s still hard.

“How is that possible?” I ask before he can speak.

His brow wrinkles. “How is what possible?”

I’m not even sure I know what I was asking. How can he make me feel this way, how can he make my body do what it just did, how can he still be hard after all that—I don’t know how to be more specific.

“This?”

He smiles, his eyes twinkling down into mine, and he kisses the tip of my nose. My heart melts, bringing with it a prickle of unease that I push to the side for later examination. “Hell if I know, but I can tell you I’m dedicated to finding out and doing my best to duplicate it.”

He runs his lips along my jawline as he flexes his hips. I feel the pang of something waking in the lowest part of my belly.

“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, using all my strength just to keep my eyes open.

“Oh, but I am,” he says, pulling out and thrusting back into me. A wave of awareness steals my breath. Again. “But you need to rest a little first.”

As sweetly as anything I could ever imagine a good man being capable of, Jake withdraws from me and rolls to the side, bringing me into the curve of his body.

“Jake, I—”

“Shhh,” he interrupts, pressing his lips to the top of my head. “Relax. Enjoy the sun. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

SIXTEEN:
Jake

I
’m tired, yes. And I could probably use a little rest, yes. But not right now, I’m more interested in the girl curled up at my side, sleeping naked in the grass. The one who just rolled enthusiastically from one orgasm to the next. The one who let me devour her in the bright light of day, out in the open. The one who let me come inside her, and seemed to enjoy the shit out of it.

Can this be the same girl I kissed at the fair all those years ago? The same girl who blushes if I stare at her too long? The same girl who never curses? The same girl who probably never even had more than that one sip of wine until I put a purple people eater in her hand? What a very perplexing, yet very welcome walking contradiction.

I knew she had a little fire to her. Probably buried deep down, something she was raised to squash or ignore. And I knew she was itching to take a little stroll on the wild side. Or maybe just at the
edge
of the wild side. But I didn’t expect this. I mean, damn! I want her again already. Right this second. My cock acts like it’s seven a.m. on a Saturday morning after a two-month dry spell.

I hope to all hell that she doesn’t get attached and ruin this for both of us, because I could stand to have a little more of this coming my way over the next few weeks.

I glance down at her body—at the arch of her neck, at the curve of her hip, at the perfect pink nipple that I can barely see, peeking out from under her arm where she’s lying on her side—and my mouth waters. And my dick gets harder.

I’m debating waking her up the right way when she sighs and tilts her head up to pin me with her soft blue eyes. Judging by her expression, I know she still feels that lazy, bone-deep relaxed feeling that only comes after having some really good sex. And this sex? Sweet hell! It was that and then some!

But then they freeze, as if she suddenly remembers what happened. I watch her eyes round into Os nearly as large as the one her mouth makes. I hold my breath, not knowing whether to expect her to get up and walk out of my life forever or give me the coldest shoulder this side of Alaska.

True to what I’ve seen of her this far, though, instead, she surprises me.

“Can we do that again?” Air rushes from my lungs and my chest relaxes as a wide smile settles across her lips.

“Which part?” I ask, unable to help myself.

The blue of her eyes sparkle like stars in a midnight sky. “All of it.”

I find my own lips curving. “Hell yeah!”

“But maybe backward this time,” she says, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip in that shy way that I love. “Kissing . . . and . . . stuff first; jumping off the rock second?”

“Oh,
hell
yeah!” I murmur again as I roll my body onto hers and suck one delicious nipple into my mouth.

And then we do it all again.

Only backward.

* * *

It’s long past dark by the time Laney and I drag our tired asses up the stairs to my bedroom. “How ’bout a nice long, hot bath to ease any . . . sore places you might have?” I ask this with a mischievous wink because I know there’s no way on God’s green earth she’s ever had an afternoon like the one we just spent. As many “encounters” as I’ve had in the course of my life,
I’ve
never even had a day like today. To say it was spectacular would be a disgrace to the word
spectacular
. Makes me think it’s been far too long since I’ve had really good sex.

Surely that’s what it is.

“I can barely wiggle. I’ll come along if you’ll do all the heavy lifting,” she says, winding her arms around my neck and smiling charmingly up into my face.

“Don’t you start thinking you can use that beautiful face and this amazing body of yours to manipulate me,” I warn.

“Please,” she says coyly, rubbing up against me like a cat.

“Done,” I say, grinning at her. She laughs when I sweep her off her feet and carry her to the bathroom.

I set her on the counter while I run the bath full of extremely warm water. When it’s over half full, I strip, set her on her feet and do the same for her before we climb in.

“Aaah!” she squeals when the hot water hits her skin. She starts to hop back out, but I grab her arm to still her.

“Just give it a second. It only stings at first, then it’ll do great things for your muscles. And . . . other things.”

I sit down and spread my legs, holding my arms out wide for her to join me. When she does, she hisses.

“I didn’t need to be on the pill, did I?”

“Huh?”

“There’s no way a single sperm could possibly survive this. And obviously you’ve done it before.”

“Once or twice.”

After a few seconds, her voice sounds less pained. “So, is this a fetish?”

“Is what a fetish?”

“Luring unsuspecting women to your home and then boiling them.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad, drama queen. Besides, isn’t it worth it to share a hot bath with all this?” I say, curling my fingers in toward myself and giving her my cheesiest, most arrogant smile.

Boldly, she peruses me, which is kind of a turn-on when she lingers on my cock, which is nestled against her hip. “We’ll see. What about you? What’s a hot bath with
me
worth to a guy like you?”

I reach forward and pull her around and into my arms, her back to my chest, leaving her entire front open to my roaming hands.

“After today? Quite a bit, actually.”

I nuzzle the side of her neck, the scratch of my stubble sending chills down her chest and tightening her nipple. I feel my body jump against her ass where she’s sitting between my legs.

“Re-ally?” she purrs, tilting her head to one side to give me better access to her neck.

“Mmm.”

“Then maybe we can talk a little.”

I feel the sigh swell in my chest, but I hold it in.

Not this again.

“What do you want to know?” I ask after a long pause.

Laney says nothing for several seconds. Instead, she grabs a bar of soap and rolls it between her palms, creating a nice thick lather. She lays the soap aside and starts to wash one arm. I watch her begin at her wrist and make slow circles all the way up her arm to her shoulder. The closer she gets to her chest, to the curve of her breast, the tighter my entire body gets, like a clock winding up.

She’s too innocent to know what she’s doing will drive me crazy. My guess is that it’s the easiest spot to wash first, as nearly everything else is submerged.

That or I’m not giving her nearly enough credit.

“What was it like, growing up on the orchard? What was your family like?”

It’s an innocuous enough question, one that doesn’t overtly stimulate any touchy areas. I don’t mind answering if it keeps her doing what she’s doing.

“Not much different than most childhoods, I’d say. At least not around here. I played outside most of the day, climbed trees in the orchard, sometimes helped pick peaches, skipped rocks at the wide place in the river down by the northern border.”

“What were your parents like?”

“Just like regular parents. We ate meals together. Played games together. Watched television together.”

I’m mesmerized as I watch her soap her chest, her hands inching her way toward her breasts. “And then Jenna came along,” she says, letting her fingers play over the smooth, round globes.

“Yep,” I say almost absently, my eyes glued to her hands.

When she uses her index finger to ring her nipples, my breath hitches in my throat. My balls throb with the sudden need to lift her up and plunge her down on my cock, to watch that perfect ass of hers move up and down as she rides me.

And then she kills off my hard-on with one question, with the one question she’s been sneaking up to.

“Why do you think your father didn’t love you? It sure sounds like he did.”

“Laney, I told you—”

She cuts me off by whirling around in the tub to face me, her hands splayed across my chest and her eyes pleading with me.

“Please, Jake. Please talk to me. I want so much to be okay with this, but it’s . . . it’s just . . . it’s hard. I
need
to know you. At least a little bit. Just tell me something about your life here. Tell me something. Just a little bit.”

I want to kiss her. And shake her. And walk away. And hold her close. I’ve never been with someone like her, someone who actually
tries
to be . . . less. Most of the girls I’ve known
just are
. But not Laney. She’s trying to be casual and easy, jumping into a sexual relationship with someone she barely knows. But it doesn’t come naturally for her. Oddly, as bass-ackwards as it sounds, that makes me respect her all the more.

This time, I do sigh.

“My mother was already sick when she got pregnant with Jenna. She wouldn’t even consider terminating the pregnancy to save her own life. She knew the risks, but she valued Jenna’s life more than her own.” I swallow hard. It’s never easy to think about all this shit, much less talk about it. Which is why I don’t.

Ever.

“Jake, I’m so sor—”

I hold up my hand to cut her off. I can see her sincerity in the big, glistening pools of her eyes. But she wanted it. Now she’s gonna get it. At least part of it. There’s still a part I’ll never share with another living soul.

Ever.

“So when Jenna was born, Dad was busy taking care of her and Mom just kept getting sicker. There was a point where there was nothing else the doctors or medicine could do for her. Other than to just let nature take its course.”

“How old were you when she . . .”

“Eight. I was eight years old when my mother died.”

I lean my head back against the cool ceramic of the tub, closing my eyes against that time in my life. I feel Laney’s lips, light as twin feathers, brush first my mouth then my cheek, my jaw then my chin, before she settles down on top of me. She rests her head on my chest and her right hand over my heart.

I can feel the sympathy and the regret rolling off her in nearly tangible waves. But I don’t want her sympathy. I don’t want anybody’s sympathy. I just want the past to be left alone. It’s already brought me enough pain in life without having to dig it all up again.

My tiny smile is bitter when I think to myself that Laney probably won’t be asking any more questions any time soon.