Page 6
Story: Ferocious Mountain Man
Had I misheard him? “You asked what was in this for you. I’m not sure…”
I let my voice drift off then, hoping he’d get the point. But he continued to stare at me, saying nothing.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he said. “One date. Tomorrow night. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I know you’re sleeping in a tent. You can get ready here if you want. You’re always welcome to stay here if you don’t want to sleep outside.”
I shook my head. “I actually enjoy camping out. If you’ll help me get my tent set up, I’ll be fine. But yeah, I mean, if you want to buy me dinner…”
I gave him a smile and tried for a casual expression. Something that would keep him from knowing just how much his words were affecting me inside.
My heart was pounding. My breaths were coming fast.
It was all business. That was why I was excited by the prospect of going to dinner with him. That was all.
If I told myself that enough, maybe I’d start to believe it.
4
RAFE
Was it hot in here, or was it just me?
I kicked off the covers and stared up at the ceiling. I’d been fooling myself if I thought I could go to sleep after thirty minutes of hauling Sahara’s stuff and getting it all set up.
We’d introduced ourselves at some point during the process. I gave her my first and last name, hoping she’d do the same. I only had her first name, and I had no idea why that wasn’t enough.
Actually, I did know why. I was getting attached. And that was why I was lying here, staring up at the ceiling instead of sleeping. It had nothing to do with the endorphins still flowing through my body from the physical activity. No, this was all mental. Any endorphins were the undeniable buzz of my attraction to her.
With a groan, I finally threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood. So much for sleep. At least it was a Saturday night, so I could sleep in—if I could ever get her out of my mind.
Maybe a cold shower was what I needed. Or maybe I should grab a box of tissues, get back in that bed, and take care of things myself. It wouldn’t take long, and it would probably relax me.
I was heading for the bathroom in search of what I’d need for a good jerk-off session when a scream pierced the silence that surrounded me. A female scream. There was only one person who could be making that noise this time of night.
I bolted to the door, not even bothering to throw on clothes, and rushed across the massive distance between us. She was farther than a football field away. Because of the trees, it took most of that distance to catch a glimpse of her tent.
I had no idea what I expected to see, but a closed, still tent brought a sigh of relief between quick breaths. So it was probably just a nightmare. Or maybe she found a bug in her tent. She seemed like a strong, courageous person, but I’d seen some pretty tough soldiers freak out over a cockroach.
My footsteps slowed as I neared the tent. I never took my eyes off it. I winced at the noise I was making, even though I wasn’t sure why I was concerned. Maybe I felt a little like I was sneaking a peek.
But that brought me to my next question. Did I just unzip the tent flap and see what was going on? Or was I supposed to do some sort of canvas-based version of knocking?
“Sahara?” I called out.
“Rafe, is that you?”
In those last three words, her shaky voice gave away her fear. She might have seen a bug, but that sounded like something else. Besides, if it had been a bug, she probably would’ve been outside the tent. The flap would be open, if only to evict the insect that had broken in.
“It’s me,” I said. “Is everything okay in there?”
“Someone was outside my tent. Or something.”
That was all I needed to hear. I immediately kicked into protector mode. And that was when I became aware that I wore nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs. I just hoped the massive bulge from a few minutes ago was gone. If not, it would be gone soon enough.
I saw absolutely nothing around the tent. Nowhere near it. Not a sign of anything. I even headed into the woods, barefoot and mostly naked. Nothing came of that but sore feet.
By the time I returned to Sahara’s tent, I expected to find her waiting outside. But no sign of her—just the tent. I hoped like hell she was still inside it.
“You okay in there?” I called out once I was closer.
I let my voice drift off then, hoping he’d get the point. But he continued to stare at me, saying nothing.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he said. “One date. Tomorrow night. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I know you’re sleeping in a tent. You can get ready here if you want. You’re always welcome to stay here if you don’t want to sleep outside.”
I shook my head. “I actually enjoy camping out. If you’ll help me get my tent set up, I’ll be fine. But yeah, I mean, if you want to buy me dinner…”
I gave him a smile and tried for a casual expression. Something that would keep him from knowing just how much his words were affecting me inside.
My heart was pounding. My breaths were coming fast.
It was all business. That was why I was excited by the prospect of going to dinner with him. That was all.
If I told myself that enough, maybe I’d start to believe it.
4
RAFE
Was it hot in here, or was it just me?
I kicked off the covers and stared up at the ceiling. I’d been fooling myself if I thought I could go to sleep after thirty minutes of hauling Sahara’s stuff and getting it all set up.
We’d introduced ourselves at some point during the process. I gave her my first and last name, hoping she’d do the same. I only had her first name, and I had no idea why that wasn’t enough.
Actually, I did know why. I was getting attached. And that was why I was lying here, staring up at the ceiling instead of sleeping. It had nothing to do with the endorphins still flowing through my body from the physical activity. No, this was all mental. Any endorphins were the undeniable buzz of my attraction to her.
With a groan, I finally threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood. So much for sleep. At least it was a Saturday night, so I could sleep in—if I could ever get her out of my mind.
Maybe a cold shower was what I needed. Or maybe I should grab a box of tissues, get back in that bed, and take care of things myself. It wouldn’t take long, and it would probably relax me.
I was heading for the bathroom in search of what I’d need for a good jerk-off session when a scream pierced the silence that surrounded me. A female scream. There was only one person who could be making that noise this time of night.
I bolted to the door, not even bothering to throw on clothes, and rushed across the massive distance between us. She was farther than a football field away. Because of the trees, it took most of that distance to catch a glimpse of her tent.
I had no idea what I expected to see, but a closed, still tent brought a sigh of relief between quick breaths. So it was probably just a nightmare. Or maybe she found a bug in her tent. She seemed like a strong, courageous person, but I’d seen some pretty tough soldiers freak out over a cockroach.
My footsteps slowed as I neared the tent. I never took my eyes off it. I winced at the noise I was making, even though I wasn’t sure why I was concerned. Maybe I felt a little like I was sneaking a peek.
But that brought me to my next question. Did I just unzip the tent flap and see what was going on? Or was I supposed to do some sort of canvas-based version of knocking?
“Sahara?” I called out.
“Rafe, is that you?”
In those last three words, her shaky voice gave away her fear. She might have seen a bug, but that sounded like something else. Besides, if it had been a bug, she probably would’ve been outside the tent. The flap would be open, if only to evict the insect that had broken in.
“It’s me,” I said. “Is everything okay in there?”
“Someone was outside my tent. Or something.”
That was all I needed to hear. I immediately kicked into protector mode. And that was when I became aware that I wore nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs. I just hoped the massive bulge from a few minutes ago was gone. If not, it would be gone soon enough.
I saw absolutely nothing around the tent. Nowhere near it. Not a sign of anything. I even headed into the woods, barefoot and mostly naked. Nothing came of that but sore feet.
By the time I returned to Sahara’s tent, I expected to find her waiting outside. But no sign of her—just the tent. I hoped like hell she was still inside it.
“You okay in there?” I called out once I was closer.