Some Like It Wild (13 page)

Before I can even suggest it, as if reading my mind, Laney lays her empty stick to the side and slips her shirt over her head. Her bra is the color of the setting sun and, in the soft light, makes her skin look like it glows.

Within a fraction of a second, my body is as hot as the fire I’m sitting in front of.

A month ago, she would never have done something like that. Hell, a couple of
weeks
ago she wouldn’t have done something like that. She’s come a long way.

Where has the time gone? And how can I get some of it back?

When she’s finished picking marshmallow from her shirt, I catch her before she can put her shirt back on. “I’ll make you a deal,” I tell her. “I’ll share some of my marshmallows with you.” She’s paused with her arms half raised above her head and she’s peeking at me over her hands. “On one condition.”

One of Laney’s eyebrows rises, something she’s just started doing. Something that drives me wild. “What’s that?”

“I get to feed them to you. But I’m messy, so you’d better take the rest of your clothes off.”

Even in the low light, I see her pupils dilate. She doesn’t answer me. She just lowers her arms. Slowly.

At first it seems she isn’t going to answer me at all. But then, with her eyes locked on mine, she stands to her feet and reaches for the button on her shorts. She unbuttons then unzips them.

Very deliberately, very carefully, she wiggles her hips back and forth as she slides the khaki material down her long legs. When she straightens, I see that she’s not wearing any panties. She must not have put any back on after she changed out of her wet clothes earlier.

I get hard immediately.

“Where do you want me?” she asks, her expression the picture of innocence.

I pat the ground beside me. “Right here. You’ll stay warm near the flames.” Gracefully, Laney steps toward me then sinks down to the ground. “Lie back,” I tell her.

And she does.

I hold the stick of marshmallows over the flames for a few seconds to make sure they’re nice and hot before I dip my finger into one. The crispy outer shell gives way to a hot, sticky center that coats my finger. I trace it over Laney’s bottom lip. “Lick.” I watch the pink tip of her tongue sneak out to snatch the sugar from her lip. My mouth waters. “My turn,” I tell her.

I get some more marshmallow on my finger and I drag it from her chin down to the valley between her breasts. I bend my head and use my lips and tongue to lick her skin clean.

“Mmm, delicious,” I say when I raise my head and meet her eyes. Laney says nothing, but I can hear her short, heavy breathing. She’s excited. And when she’s excited, I’m
even more
excited.

I scoop some more marshmallow onto my finger and hold it to Laney’s mouth. “Open,” I tell her. Wordlessly, she parts her lips. I slip my fingertip inside. It’s all I can do not to strip and dive right into her when I feel her suck on it and swirl her tongue around the tip.

With my eyes locked on Laney’s, I reheat the remaining marshmallows. After a few seconds, one catches fire. I hold the stick up to Laney’s lips. “Blow.”

Obediently, she puckers her lips and puffs out the flame.

“My turn again,” I state, leaning forward to hook my finger under the edge of her bra strap and tug it down. When one button-like nipple is exposed, I pierce the browned marshmallow and dip my finger inside, transferring the warm gooeyness onto Laney’s nipple. I hear her gasp at the heat of it. I look up at her face and see her eyes drift shut in ecstasy. “So sweet,” I whisper as I bend over her to suck away the sticky sugar.

When I straighten, Laney opens her eyes and looks at me. Her lips are parted, and I’d be willing to bet if she were wearing panties, they’d be soaked.

“Where else can I put some?” I ask.

I see her pearly teeth sink into her bottom lip and I suppress a growl. I tighten the hold on my libido. I want to draw this out a little longer. No matter how much it hurts me.

I smear a shiny, white streak down Laney’s stomach to her navel, where I deposit a blob of cream. Leaning forward, I lick the trail and then lap up every last bit of marshmallow from her belly button.

Her stomach trembles as I lick a little lower. My cock jumps in response. She knows where I’m headed next. She knows what I’m going to do. And she’s practically vibrating with anticipation.

Straightening, I put the stick in the fire once more. I heat the remaining marshmallow. When the outside starts to darken, I remove it. I blow on it until it cools enough that I can handle it. And then I stick my tongue right into the hot center. It burns, but not enough that I can’t tolerate it.

Bending over Laney, I nudge her legs farther apart with my elbow and run my sugar-coated tongue between her folds, leaving a hot, sticky sweet trail all the way down the crease to her opening. The noise she makes is somewhere between a gasp and a moan. To me, it just sounds like a plea for me to continue.

“That’s it, baby,” I say, moving my lips against her, “you know I wanna hear you.”

I lave her slick flesh with my tongue, enjoying the sweet taste of marshmallow mixed with the sweet taste of Laney. I suck her clit into my mouth. She digs her fingers into my hair and holds me to her, her hips moving against my face. I push one sticky finger inside her. She’s warm and tight and so, so wet. I move it slowly in and out of her, in a rhythm that matches my tongue. I hear her start to pant, so I slide another in beside it. More aggressively, I penetrate her with my fingers as I lick her into a frenzy.

Her hips move in time with me, and when I feel her muscles tense, I thrust another finger in alongside the first two and slam them into her until I hear her cry out.

Laney’s voice echoes through the ravine below, my name bouncing back around us. But I’m not done. And neither is she.

Sliding my tongue down, I thrust it inside her, licking her higher and higher into her orgasm. My need for her is building.

I smell her delicious body, more mouthwatering than the marshmallows. I taste her natural sweetness, pouring onto my tongue and mingling with the sugar. I feel her everywhere—her hands in my hair, her legs brushing my face, her body writhing against my chest.

“Jake, please,” she whimpers softly. “Please. I need to feel you inside me.”

I lift my head and look at her. Her eyes are heavy. Her cheeks are flushed. Her nipples are puckered. Her lips are trembling.

I strip off my shorts as fast as I can and position myself between her legs. For a second, I feel frantic, too, but I make myself slow down.

I lean back on my heels, poised between her spread thighs. I look down as I rub the glistening head of my cock over her swollen lips. I tease the entrance and I feel her slippery cave clutching at me. I bite back a groan.

I glance up at her. Her chest is heaving with every breath she takes. She’s right on the edge of another one. And if I wait just another second . . .

I put my palms on the insides of her thighs and I push them farther apart, easing an inch into her. “Lean up,” I tell her. “I want you to watch.”

Laney levers her body up onto her elbows. I withdraw fully so she can see the light flicker off the wetness covering me. “See that? That tastes like sugar.
You
taste like sugar,” I say, slowly slipping the head back into her and rocking it in and out. She’s sucking at me, begging me to fill her up. “You’re all over my tongue,” I say, thrusting a little farther in. “I can still taste you.”

I look up at Laney. She’s watching me tease her, her mouth a silent O of pleasure, her eyes little more than slits as she struggles to keep them open. I pull out and circle my fingertip over the head of my cock then reach up and drag it over Laney’s bottom lip. I feel like I might explode when her tongue sneaks out and licks it off.

“So good,” I whisper. “I want you to see how good we are together.” I moan, straining to keep my strokes short and shallow. “I want you to watch me come inside you. I want you to feel it. Filling you up.” My control is slipping. “Filling you up and running back out.” My heart is racing and I can’t hold off much longer. “I want you to see the mixture of us dripping from my cock. Us. Together.”

Her face looks pained, but I know what she’s feeling—desperation. She wants this every bit as badly as I do.

Pulling her hips in closer to mine, I angle my body and drive as hard and as deep into her as I can. She takes every inch of me and her cry tells me what I can already feel.

She’s coming again. That’s all it took for her. She came undone. And with every spasm of her body around mine, I know I’m not far behind.

I watch Laney watching us, watching my thick cock crash into her over and over again. And then I feel it. It steals over me like darkness. It robs me of sight and sound for a few seconds, and all I can sense is the tension in every muscle of my body.

And then I’m coming. I spew into her, knowing she’s watching, and I love it.

I’ve never come so hard before. For a few seconds, I lose touch with reality. Like an animal, I arch my back and throw back my head and growl. I growl as I spill everything I have deep inside Laney.

As she watches.

I can feel it oozing out of her, all around me. And when I pull out, I can see it dripping off me. And so can she.

NINETEEN:
Laney

I
hear Jake get up, but I don’t feel like moving yet. Every inch of skin, every fiber of muscle, and every last nerve is supremely satisfied. My stretch is languorous, making me feel like a cat.

I lean up on one elbow to watch Jake climb out of the tent. Even if I weren’t attracted to him—which I am, and which I fear is becoming very dangerous for me—I could appreciate his beauty. His legs are long and muscular. His butt is hard and round. His waist is narrow and trim. His back is V-shaped and his shoulders are wide. And everything is covered in flawless, golden skin.

When he turns to look back at me from just outside the entrance, I see him from the front. I feel my cheeks flush when I look at him. I still can’t believe it’s that big. And that it fits in me.

But it does. Oh, how it does!

Chills spread down my arms and chest, and I feel a gush of warmth. I look quickly back to Jake’s face. He’s grinning.

“You’re very much awake now, aren’t you?”

I nod slowly, grinning broadly.

“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

I lie back and snuggle down in the sleeping bag, smiling happily as I listen to the sounds of the forest waking up. In the distance, I can hear the babble of the river, which reminds me that I actually have to pee.

Dang it!

Throwing on Jake’s big T-shirt, I slip out of the tent and find a place in the nearby woods that has a marked lack of poison oak. I see a fallen tree and head for it. It’s always good to have something like that close at hand. That way, if I lose my balance, I can reach out and grab it rather than falling onto the ground while I’m trying to pee.

I turn my back to the log and lift Jake’s shirt. Before I can squat, a sharp pain tears through the back of my left knee. I yelp, partly out of surprise and partly due to the discomfort.

I whirl around toward the fallen tree, looking for what assaulted me. I feel the blood drain from my face when I spy the beautifully patterned, rust-colored snake coiled inconspicuously on the back side of the log. Its head is still lifted and it’s facing me as though ready to strike again. Pain is radiating down the back of my calf already and all I can think, in total Jake style, is
oh shit, oh shit, oh shit
.

I know virtually nothing about snakes, so I don’t know whether I should move or not, or how much trouble I’m in. I do the only thing I can. I yell for Jake.

“Jake! Help!”

My pulse is pounding in my ears and my leg is on fire as I stand perfectly still and watch the snake. I’m relieved when I hear the crashing of Jake coming through the woods toward me.

As if sensing that danger is on the way, the snake slithers off its perch and sneaks into the bracken surrounding the fallen tree. Overwhelmed with relief and feeling a bit lightheaded from the pain in my leg, I sink to my knees just as Jake finds me.

“Laney, what’s wrong?” he asks. There’s panic in his voice, which actually makes me feel like smiling. But I don’t. The pain in my leg seems to be increasing by the second.

“A snake bit me,” I breathe.

“Where? And where is the snake?”

I roll slightly to the side and point to the back of my leg. Jake examines it and then looks back to my face. He gently takes my chin between his fingers and looks closely at me.

“Which way did it go, Laney?” he asks quietly.

“Off the back of the log, into the woods.”

“I need to find the snake. I need to know what bit you. Stay here. I’ll be right back,” Jake promises. He brushes my lips with his, so tender and sweet it makes me want to cry, before he stands up and turns a complete circle. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he takes a good-sized rock from the ground and hefts it a time or two, as if to check its weight. With it tucked against his palm, Jake walks to the log, steps cautiously over it, and moves farther into the forest.

I pray hazily for God not to let him get bitten, too, as I lie back against the cool ground. I would be devastated if something happened to him because he was trying to help me.

I don’t know how much time has passed when Jake comes back. Gone is the rock, replaced by a length of wiggling snake body.

I gasp in shock. “Jake, it might—”

He holds the snake up just long enough for me to get a good look at it. And see that it’s missing its head. “Is this what bit you?”

I look closely at the snake. The color and markings are unmistakable. “Yes, that’s it.”

“It’s a copperhead,” he says, tossing it back into the woods. Jake’s face is solemn, which worries me. He bends and gently sweeps me into his arms, careful not to jostle my leg or put too much pressure on the bend of my left knee. “We need to get you out of here.”

I’m not panicking. Mainly, I’d say, because my leg hurts so badly it’s hard to think of much else. I just want the pain to stop.

“Copperheads are poisonous, right?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you supposed to cut it and suck the poison out or something like that?”

Jake grins, but it doesn’t completely erase the look of concern on his face. “Do you
want
me to cut you and suck the poison out?”

“Well, if that’s what you’re supposed to do . . .”

“With some venomous snakebites, that might be the case, but with a copperhead, fortunately their strike is their warning, so they don’t often inject very much venom. I’m going to get the first aid kit and clean it then we’ll head down the mountain.”

I consider this new information, feeling somewhat relieved. But still, my leg is hurting so bad!

“What about all your stuff? The camp?”

“I don’t care about all that shit. My main concern is getting you to the hospital so they can give you some antivenom and something for the pain.”

Jake sets me in one of the chairs in front of what used to be the fire. I watch him dig through a metal box in the back of his Jeep and produce a small white square. As he walks back, I notice the fresh blood on his arm and one thigh. When I twist my leg and look down at it, I see the blood running from the wound at my knee.

“Bleeding is a good thing, right? To clean out the bite or something?”

“Copperhead bites bleed quite a bit. It has something to do with the way the venom affects your blood cells.” Jake kneels in front of me, opens the white box and sets it on the ground at my feet. “This is gonna sting, but I need to clean it before I put some gauze on it, okay?”

I nod.

Whatever Jake pours onto a cotton ball is liquid hell. I’m sure of it when he presses it to my already hurting leg and it makes it hurt even more.

“Almost done,” he says, dabbing gingerly.

I glance down and see the blood trickling even as he swipes at it. Nausea creeps over me like a swell of unbearable heat. Sweat beads on my forehead. “Jake, I feel sick.”

“Slow deep breaths. We’ll be on the road in a minute.”

With quick-yet-competent movements, Jake folds a few squares of gauze into a thick pad and presses it lightly to the snakebite. He then winds a roll of gauze loosely around my knee and fastens it with tape. It’s just enough pressure to keep the gauze in place.

“Not the best job, but it’ll do,” he says, closing the white box and then standing to his feet. “Let’s blow this joint.”

Before he can scoop me up into his arms, I have a moment of clarity. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

He’s still naked. And I’m still mostly naked.

Jake looks down at this body then back up at me. “Well, you’re wearing my shirt. How ’bout we settle on a pair of shorts for both of us?”

I nod. “Sounds good.”

Jake ducks into the tent and, after a few seconds, emerges wearing shorts and tennis shoes, carrying my shorts from last night. “Here,” he says, holding the shorts open at my feet, “step into these and then I’ll carry you to the Jeep.”

He pulls me slowly to my feet and I put my hand on his shoulder to steady myself as I step into my shorts. It’s so sweet that, before I can do it for myself, Jake pulls the shorts up and fastens them at my waist.

When he meets my eyes, he winks. “Strange. I never seem to fantasize about getting you
into
your shorts.”

His calm charm makes me feel more at ease. Careful to mind my leg, Jake reaches for me, swinging me up into his arms and heading for the Jeep. I lay my head on his chest. I know I should be afraid. Up here in the mountains, hurt. All alone with a bad boy, someone the whole town looks down on. But I’m not afraid. I’m in good hands. I have no doubt.

The drive back down the mountain seems twice as long, although, according to the dashboard clock, it’s actually shorter. Of course, I wasn’t in pain on the way up, either.

When we pass over the river at a spot I remember as being fairly close to the bottom, Jake takes out his phone and powers it up.

“I should have signal by now,” he says by way of explanation. He punches in a short couple of numbers and then holds the phone to his ear. “Yes, ma’am, I’m on my way down the mountain behind the Theopolis peach orchard. I have a friend with me who’s been bitten by a copperhead. Could you send the paramedics?”

Jake answers a few of her questions and then gives the woman his address. After a few seconds of listening, he thanks her and hangs up.

“Why did you do that? I can make it to the hospital.” I’m not sure how to take his actions, but I’m not feeling good about them. Should I be more worried? Is this bite more serious than I think? Or is Jake just trying to get rid of me?

“You need the antivenom as quickly as possible. The sooner you get it, the more effective it is. By calling it in now, the ambulance can be at the house by the time we get to the bottom of the mountain, giving you at least twenty minutes. And by calling it in
as a snakebite
, the hospital can make sure the ambulance has it on board when they come out.”

“Oh,” I say with a nod. That makes sense. False alarm.

We ride in silence the rest of the way down.

The paramedics are just coming down Jake’s driveway as we drive up from the field. They pull to a stop, we pull to a stop, and then Jake hops out and comes around to the passenger side to get me. He carries me to the back of the ambulance just as the EMTs are extending the legs on the stretcher. He sets me gently on the thin mattress and backs away.

The emergency techs are both older guys, which makes me feel at ease somehow. Maybe it just seems that the older they are, the more experience they should have. Or at least that’s my way of thinking.

“Where were you bitten?” This comes from paramedic number one, on my left.

“The back of my left knee.”

He nods to paramedic number two, who begins placing a cuff around my arm as paramedic number one lifts my leg to examine the bite.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” the one on my right asks as he starts placing stickers on my chest.

“Laney.”

“Is this your husband, Laney?” he asks, nodding to Jake.

“No, he’s, um, he’s a friend.”

I use Jake’s term. It feels just as cold and hopeless as it did when I heard him use it on the phone.

“Do you have family in the area, Laney?”

I feel a moment of dread. I gulp, feeling tears threaten. This is not the end I had thought our wonderful camping trip would have. Not at all. And now my parents will be involved.

“Yes, I do.”

“What are their names?”

“Graham Holt is my father and—”

“Graham Holt, the preacher?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, all right then, Laney, we’ll get a hold of your father and have him meet us at the hospital.”

“I’d prefer you not, actually. Can’t Jake just come with me?”

The men look at one another across me, and then the one on my left clears his throat and answers. “Sure he can, but we’ll need some family member present in case something should happen.”

My stomach sinks and I nod. “Okay.”

I look to Jake. His smile is tight and his hands are shoved down into his shorts pockets. “I’ll meet you at the hospital, Laney.”

I nod and smile, knowing that it’s a pathetic one, what with my chin trembling.

“Laney, are you allergic to any medications?” EMT number one asks.

“No, sir.”

“Good. When we get you in the back here, I’m going to start an IV and give you some pain medication. Then I’ll be giving you some medicine to help neutralize the snake venom, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s important that you tell me how you’re feeling, all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

With a jolt, the two men collapse the legs of the stretcher and stuff me in the back of the ambulance. I lift my head and my eyes meet Jake’s as one of the guys closes the doors. He looks pale. And upset. And it’s all because of me. I’ve ruined what was supposed to be a fun weekend. What could quite possibly be our
last
weekend.

When I can no longer see him, I don’t hold back the tears. I let them flow.

“I’ll have that pain controlled in just a few minutes. You hang in there, Laney,” he says as he unwraps tubing and punctures a bag of fluid.

I give him a watery smile. I don’t think he can numb the pain I’m feeling right now. It has nothing to do with a snakebite.

* * *

I know I’ve looked at the doorway a dozen times. Where is Jake?

In my stomach, there’s a sinking feeling that he just won’t come, that this will be the end of us. This isn’t the fun he was looking for. This isn’t the kind of rush he enjoys. And I’m probably not the kind of girl that he’d ever give more than a few weekends to.

The doctor finishes examining my leg. He’s tall and gaunt with a head full of wild salt-and-pepper hair, but he has a warm smile. “Well, Ms. Holt, you’re one very lucky young woman. You’re not out of the woods yet, but based on the reaction of the tissue surrounding the site, I’d say you were only very lightly envenomated. What that means for you is minimal tissue destruction, no systemic effects like nausea, vomiting—”

“Sorry to interrupt, but she said she was nauseous right after she was bitten.”

My heart swells inside my chest. He came.

“Jake,” I say, unable to keep the silly smile off my face. He winks at me quickly then turns his attention back to the doctor.