Strung (23 page)

“How did that glass not break?” asks Grace.

“The wood frame and the soft putty holding it, I suppose.  They were fitted that way to allow the glass to flex.  I had hoped we would never have to test the theory, but hey.  It works!”  Savannah sounds as relieved as I feel.

The return of Chayton, Morgan in tow, provides a welcome distraction and the pups go nuts when the two men open the glass door, bolting outside.  Chayton lets them go.

“They won’t go far,” he states with confidence, seeing our concerned faces.

“Well, everyone seams fine, the worst is over.  We won’t be able to assess the damage properly till daylight, but Edward is in his element.  Apparently we have a brand new fountain in the middle of the glen,” he beams.

“No!” chorus Grace and Savannah together, rushing to the door to peer into the dark.  I’m a little more nervous about approaching the glass.

“Morgan, will you stay in the room next to Savannahs tonight?  Her room is far too isolated from ours if the aftershocks get too rough,” he asks.

“You don’t have to ask twice,” grins Morgan, pleased with this new development.  I get the feeling he is now secretly praying for lots of scary aftershocks.

“Good.  And how are you missy?” Chayton asks, slipping his arms around me and studying my face.

“Good,” I start, “But if we’re going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow, then perhaps we should try and get some sleep,” I suggest, breathing in the heady scent of Eau de Chayton.

“I can live with that.  Your place or mine?”

“Yours.”

“Your wish is my command.  Let’s go,” he pulls me in the direction of his suite as we both murmur our good nights to our smiling audience.

~.~

We are taking it slow.  Very, deliciously, delightfully, delectably, delovely slow.  Still hot and tingly from a very energetic shared shower, I stand in the soft light of a small wood stove, basking in fusion of exotic sensations and smells.  Chayton is on his knees, spreading warm body oil over every inch of my skin and I'm torn between the desire for him to continue forever and my need to return the favour.  There is so much of his body, I still need to explore.

He has already worked his way up the back of
my body, from my heels to my neck, kneading and massaging where the muscles are tense.  Now his is working his way up my thighs with small circling motions.  I gasp as his mouth plants a kiss on my belly, right below my navel and starts suckling the spot tenderly.  My legs start to quiver and I tangle my fingers in his hair for support as his fingers finally reach my hips. 

"What?  No!"
I mewl.  I feel is grin as his hands bypass the needy stuff and carry on along my waist, to find my breasts.

"What's the matter Ms. Ward?" he grins rising to stand in front of me, his hands kneading my tender and heavy breasts.

"You know what, Mr. Donavan."

"Do I?" he kisses the tip of my nose, smiling darkly.

He takes both my nipples between his nimble fingers and rolls them, tugging gently.  It's almost too much to bear.  I promised not to move, but he didn't object when I wove my fingers through his hair, so maybe fingers are exempt from this promise.  Greedily my hand finds his impressive length, curling around his girth, squeezing. 

"No, Ms. Ward, hands off.  This is my game," he says hoarsely, removing my hand. 

"But..."  Chayton's mouth silences me as a hand cups me intimately.

Okay!  Your game is good!

I squirm as his hand gently squeezes me, the heel of his hand rubbing a desperate little button through its protective mound of flesh, while his fingertips tease, with gentle pressure, at the entrance to my sex.  All the while, his tongue possesses me, devouring me whole, as our mouths worship each other.

For all that is...
Arrrrgh...

My legs start to quiver and my head swims.  I feel as if I'm about to erupt.  I pull my head away, panting for air, my hips gyrating rudely, my eyes squeezed closed to stop the spinning. 

"Now!" he whispers urgently into my ear. 

Like I can...fucking...Oh shit...help it! 

I come wetly, groaning his name through clenched teeth and collapsing into his arms.

I'm vaguely aware of being carried to the bed, vaguely aware of a low noise and vaguely aware of Chayton, climbing onto the bed next to me, singing softly.

Singing? 
I shake my head back to reality.

Chayton is grinning down at be, humming an old tune.  He reaches a particular line and adds the words...  "I feel the earth move, under my feet."

"Was that a well timed aftershock, or did you just do that?" I ask in awe.

"What if I told you I had the
planet at my command and ordered the ground to move at just the right moment?"

"I'd believe you," I whisper.  "
But only after asking for a repeat performance to verify your claim."  I pull his lips back down to mine and he pushes a welcome leg between mine.

"More than happy to oblige Ms. Ward.  I have the world, and you have me."

He hovers over me and I tilt my hips up, ready for him.

"I love you, Angel," he whispers, pushing into me with painful slowness.

"And I, you."  I urge him on with greedy fingers and tortured hips, my muscles squeezing and holding him, drawing him deeper as I start to tense and quiver again and finally he starts to move, long hard pounding thrusts slamming me to oblivion.  My nails scrap across his shoulders as the tension coils to breaking point – then snaps. 

Chayton shudders and stills, breathing my name.

Chapter 12

9th April

I stretch, groaning with sadistic pleasure.  My muscles ache.  My limbs feel disjointed and my breasts feel thoroughly and deliciously abused.  Pure, sated, bliss.  Light is streaming through my eyelids, coaxing me to consciousness.  My brain makes the decision to open my eyes, and I wait for the message to reach my eyelids.  A fraction of a moment before the gears start grinding, the darkness is blotted out and butterfly soft kisses flutter across my face.

"Morning Angel."

"Morning...ooh...to you too.
Mmmm!"

Wow.  And I haven't even opened my eyes yet!

~.~

"Can I try?"
I ask sweetly.

"You want to ride the quad bike?"
Chayton looks at me in surprise.  "Do you know how to ride a bike?"

"No, but..."
I chill slightly, remembering the lesson my father
didn't
give me the same weekend he died.  "There is a first time for everything.  Besides, it might be novel being between your legs for a change," I end with a syrupy smile, chewing on my lip contritely.

Chayton stands watching me, a finger running across his lips, looking serious.  "You are incredibly persuasive.  Should I be scared?"

"Oh, be afraid, Mr. Donavan.  Be very afraid." I tease.

"Okay then Angel.  I offer you my life!"
He grins widely, and lifts me easily onto the forward seat of the large quad bike.  He slides on behind me, shifting up real close. 

I try my best to pay attention as he talks me through the controls, step by step, his hands guiding me through each one before allowing me to switch on the engine.  With a small
jolt, we ease forward and I make a few circuits of the drive to get the hang of it.  It doesn't manoeuvre as easily as I imagined, but still; it's fun!

Chayton guides me on my first proper tour of the property and he takes the opportunity to inspect all the cabins, a small machine shop, the garages, the dining hall, the equipment shed and the small power plant.  So far, everything looks to have escaped the mountain's hiccoughs without too much damage.  We did find one broken bowl, which after much playful pleading from me, Chayton promised to give a proper burial.

We pull up to the reservoir supplying the drinking water and I switch off the engine.

"Yuk!  Is the water always this brown?"

"No."  Chayton looks at the water thoughtfully.  Leaning down, he cups a handful, sniffing it.  "I think the sediment has just been shaken up a bit.  Hopefully it will settle.  The Staff are back tonight.  I'll have the caretaker test the water before we use it.  There is enough bottled water for a few days and the gravity tank will have enough for washing."

"Okay.  So where to now?"  I ask eager to ride the quad bike again.

"Want to check out the glen?"

"Sure.  What's this about a fountain?"

"Just some water that started oozing up from the ground during the earthquake and got Edward seriously turned on.  Liquefaction or something.  It's probably stopped.  You think you handle this thing on mud?"

"Hell yeah.  Let's go," I urge.

He shakes his head at my enthusiasm and climbs up behind me, kissing and nuzzling my neck as I get the engine started.

"Stop or we'll crash," I moan.

"Then concentrate," he murmurs, but doesn't stop.

I spin the bike around awkwardly and head in the direction of the glen.  Distractions are making me ride a lot slower than I would like.  Chayton's mouth has found an earlobe and he's tugging it with his teeth, sending shivers down my spine.

"I'm serious - stop!"

"Okay."  His mouth stops teasing and his hands take over, starting at my knees and working up the inside of my thighs.

"You're not playing fair," I whine.

"And you are?" he protests as his hands, slowly move over my crotch, pausing for a squeeze then
squirreling under my layers of clothing to caress the bare skin of my stomach. 

"What do you mean?  I'm not flirting with you
."
Aarrrgh!
"Or molesting you..." 
Oh hell!
  His hands have found their way under the fabric of my bra.  I stop the quad bike and switch it off.

"Yes, you are.  You've been waggling your delectable derriere for me all morning," he murmurs into my neck again and squeezes my nipples.  "
And...  I know you're not wearing panties.  That does things to me."

"What?  How the hell do you know I'm not wearing panties?"
And
please
tell me what things it does to you!

"I can tell.  These jeans are really tight."

"I could be wearing a thong!”  I frown over my shoulder, pouting.

"But you're not.  I would see them above your waist band when you sit."  His lips graze my neck from one earlobe to the next, making me shiver.

"Smart arse!"

"Do you have any idea how hot you look, straddling my saddle?"

"I bet not as hot as you on the Rocket," I purr.  His fingers twist both nipples sharply and the pain connects in my groin.

"You really like my bike, don't you?"

"The bike, is awesome, but you on it...makes me wet."  I tilt my head to the side to give him better access to the skin below my ear.

"I've created a monster!" he growls.  "To the Shag Shack!  Now!"
And he's not to be argued with.  I'm only too happy to comply as exploration of the glen is forgotten.

~.~

I hang up the Blackberry, rubbing my temples.  This morning's playful detour to the cabin, feels like weeks ago.  Work had to be done eventually.  While we were out this morning, Savannah had Morgan bring a desk into my room and set up a computer, phone and Internet connection for me.  It's comfy and quiet; just what I need and until we get a proper little office set up, Grace will be using it as well.  Might as well turn my whole room into an office, given the fact that I don't appear to need it for sleeping in.  I run through my diary and dial Grant.

"Hey."

"Hi Acacia.  How's mountain life?  You're not converting to hillbilly are you?  I mean, I don't think Banjo Boogie is quite your style."

"Somehow, I can't imagine you watching Deliverance, Grant.  So the fact that you are familiar with Banjo
-Boogie-playing-Hillbillies, concerns me."

"My past is catching up to me.  Please don't tell," he pleads playfully.

I laugh, then get serious, still not sure how much I can trust him after recent revelations.  "What's the progress with Edward's latest drama?"

"Well, I've spoken to him already.  The restraining order is in effect.  Her council has advised that she will not be contesting the divorce and I believe she is leaving Washington State."

"Well that's good news."

"Yes it is.  Oh and Victoria rang earlier.  She wanted me to get a police clearance on a potential
counsellor.  Have you spoken to Grace about where she would rather be based?"

"No I haven't, but I have a fairly good idea what her answer will be."

"That good in the woods, huh?"

"Heavenly," I smile.  An idea forms slowly and I run with it.  "Grant?  Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Did you know Robert?  I mean from before.  Before you met me?"  The silence stretches out tellingly.

"Sorry, just scratching my memory cells.  I don't think so.  I mean I knew of him.  He is in the public eye, you know."

"What about earlier, at school maybe, or at
Uni?"

"Let me think...  You know, I may have done.  I think I remember an obnoxious jock.  It could have been him.  I hung with the intellectuals though, so we wouldn't have mixed.  Why?"

"Just wondering.  You are the same age and from the same part of Seattle."

"I get it...Yes it is highly likely that
we shared space at some point, but it would have been in parallel universes."

"Okay."

"Sure?"

"Yes.  I should go, there's a lot to catch up on.  Let me know how it goes with the
counsellor, and don't promise her time at Donavan's Pass.  Grace might grow fangs and pay you a midnight visit."

"No problem.  Cheers then."

"Bye."

I hang up and stare out the window. 
Curious.
  I hadn't meant to ask about Robert.  I hadn't even thought about the potential connection since Chayton mentioned it the night of our fight.  It just came out.  In retrospect, I would have preferred to ask Grant the question face to face.  His body language would have told me more.

Oh well.  I spend the next two hours, prioritising the bills and checking through the accounts before emailing instructions to the accountant.  Reluctantly, I admit that it will be a relief, when our agreement with Seattle's Men-in-tights is official, at the end of the month. 

A startling mental image of Chayton, in green tights and tunic, flits before me and I burst into gales of laughter.  Hearing a scrape at the door, I turn to catch Chayton staring at me in amusement and I laugh even harder.  Eventually the tears are streaming down my reddened face and my lungs are screaming for air.

"Are you laughing at my expense?" he says in mock horror.  He combs his hair back with one hand as he saunters over in bare feet.  His initial amusement has been replaced by burning curiosity.

"No...  Yes..."  I snicker, spinning my swivel chair to face him properly.

"And what exactly is it about me, that you are finding so amusing, Ms. Ward?"  He leans over me, placing his hands on the
armrests of my chair, caging me in.

"I imagined you dressed like Robin Hood.  The tights are a very good touch by the way.  Very sexy."

"I'm not sure pond sludge green is my colour," he comments dryly, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"No.  You're right.  That's it.  Take the tights off!"  I tilt my head up to kiss him.

"Maybe I will, but not just yet.  I still have a world of work to do."

"Are you sure?  I'm almost finished here," I plead.

"Don't," he moans against my forehead.  "The permanent Staff are here.  I thought you might want to meet them."

"Oh yes, okay.  Rain check on the tights?"

"Rain check on the tights," he nods.  "Come on Ms. Ward."

I take Chayton's offered hand and let him lead me through the house to the kitchen. 

A gritty looking man, with a sour face, stands stiffly in the kitchen entrance, giving the pups’ dirty looks as they sniff around his work boots.  Leaning casually against a counter top is a young girl, no older that nineteen.  She has a good figure and a really pretty face, with sparkling blue eyes that don't miss a thing.

She certainly doesn't miss my hand in Chayton's and I sense her disappointment.  I
don't blame her really.  He is quite the catch.

"This is Bruce, our caretaker.  This is his daughter Tracy.  She works as housekeeper in the winter and doubles up as camp guide in the summer.  She is an excellent cook."  Tracy's cheeks flush at the praise.

"Bruce, Tracy, this is Acacia.  Her shelter will be using some of the cabins when we don't have the usual groups of kids here.  Cabins one and two are currently occupied." 

"Nice to meet you," says Tracy, offering her hand with a winning smile.  If she is still jealous, she hides it well.

"Likewise," I reply shaking her hand.

Bruce just offers a small dismissive wave and grumbles something that might be a greeting, then turns and tramps out of the door.

"Don't mind daddy.  He suffers from MOPSH."

"MOPSH?
”  I ask confused.  "I haven't heard of that one."

"Probably because he invented it.  Malfunction of Polite Social Humour," she grins.

"Oh.  Right," I smile.  Whatever polite social traits her father lacks, Tracy appears to have in bucket loads.

"I have to get back to work.  I'll be a couple of hours," Chayton says, giving me a peck on the lips.

"If you must," I pout and watch him saunter off, his bare feet reminding me of what we are missing.

"I've never seen C.J. with a girlfriend before," says Tracy.

"Oh?"  That's right.  The press call him C.J.  I wonder what the J stands for.  It's weird thinking of him as anything other than Chayton.

"Well I did see him caught with a few girls on the celeb news a long time ago, but that was before I started working here.  He doesn't bring girlfriends up here.  Want some tea of coffee before I start clearing up all the dust?"

"Coffee, please.  Sorry about the dust.  It was the earthquake."

"I know, isn't it ironic?"

"Isn't what ironic?"

"Well I spend three weeks in the earthquake capital and the earthquake happens here.  Dad and I have been visiting family in L.A." she explains.