18. Please Do Not Run
Bailey
I follow Sacha along a narrow dirt trail, through some muddy woods, and down a hill to something that could only generously be called a river. The water is narrow and shallow, but moving fast over uneven rocks, it’s easily traversable by foot. The summer air is heavy with the cool spray of water. I give a small shiver, and for a moment, wish I’d dressed warmer, but the look that Sacha gave me when I revealed my bathing suit is worth being chilly for a little while. If I’m going to spend the entire weekend with him, I may as well soak up a little of his admiration. The sun filters through the branches of the cedar trees high above us; it’s a truly perfect day.
Sacha really looks like he belongs here. He seems more relaxed, at ease in his own skin, happier. He rolls up the legs of his pants above his knee, revealing hairy but muscular legs. He pauses, giving me a long pointed look.
“Are you sure you are ready to see this?” He asks.
“What could you possibly do here that would make me upset?” I settle onto a large rock sitting on the riverbank. “Honestly, the suspense is killing me.”
He gives a bemoaned sigh and then reaches over his head to his back, grips his shirt, and pulls it over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a broad muscular chest. It’s everything I imagined and still steals my breath for a moment. His hair thins out along his chest and stomach, displaying deep orange skin, and a stretch of rippling muscles that appear to have been sculpted by the finest personal trainers. He looks good enough to eat off of, certainly good enough to lick.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sacha interrupts my daydream, seeming to mistake my silence for trepidation.
“If I hate it that much, then I get half a million dollars!” I announce loudly over the sound of running water. “Let’s get this over with! Catch me some dinner!”
He shrugs, but tosses me his shirt, the fabric still warm as I clutch it between my hungry fingers. He steps into the water, wading aimlessly through the rapids while staring at his feet. Eventually, he reaches a spot, which doesn’t look any different than the others from my vantage point, but he finally seems satisfied with his position and he stops moving.
He stands completely still, watching the water rush between his legs.
“Did you just realize that you forgot your fishing rod?” I call to him.
He doesn’t look up, but I do see a smile creep across his face.
And then one large hand shoots out, slapping into the water, and comes back up with a large fish wiggling in his grip.
I shout gleefully as he approaches.
“That’s amazing!” I announce when he brings his catch over to me. “How do you do that?”
“You aren’t—weirded out by it?” He shakes his head and drops the fish into the bucket he brought along.
“No, it’s cool! I don’t know anyone who can do anything like that!” I say with a laugh. “It’s impressive.”
“You don’t think it’s—monstrous?”
I shift in my seat. “Maybe? But, I think it’s kind of hot.”
Something in his smile changes as he looks at me. Water drips down his chest, begging for me to chase it with my tongue. I wait for him to tip in and kiss me, instead he turns back to the river and catches two more salmon to join the first. I get to enjoy the smooth and confident way that he moves, the way that his powerful muscles flex while he works. He smiles at me, all shiny white teeth, and runs his hand back across his damp chest.
“I want to try it,” I announce as he drops the third fish into the bucket.
He gives me a questioning look. “I think we have enough. I should clean these and get dinner started.”
“Show me how?” I ask, watching his face as I stand. I pull off my bathing suit coverup and relish the way his eyes drink in my chest and soft stomach.
He lets me use his powerful arm for support as I gingerly step into the moving water with him. He shows me how to keep my balance in the rushing water, points out the path of the fish, shows me how to shape my hand, and how to strike into the water as quickly as possible.
I do not resist the urge to lean back and press my body into the shell of his, letting his chest make contact with my exposed skin.
He points to a shimmering fish and gives me an encouraging nudge. I twist, trying to keep my ass at a flattering angle to Sacha as I move in the fish’s path, only to immediately lose my footing on the slippery rocks.
I fall onto my butt in the shallow water.
Large hands circle my waist and effortlessly lift me, setting me back on my feet.
“Are you alright?” Sacha’s face is full of concern.
“Fine, fine,” I assure him, the only thing truly bruised is my dignity, “Just a little wet.”
His face breaks into a grin. “Maybe you should leave the fishing to me?”
“Excuse me! That was my first time!” I exclaim. “I only have the opportunity to improve from here. Were you this good at fishing the first time that you tried it?”
“Well, I didn’t fall on my ass…”
“You are an ass!” I announce, splashing a small amount of water in his direction.
“You are a beast!” He laughs, and I send another splash in his direction before he skirts his large arm across the surface of the water, creating a tidal wave that douses me. I screech and duck away, before running for the river bed with a laugh as he sends another large wave of water toward my back.
“Just try and get me on dry land!” I challenge, sticking my tongue out at him.
“Bay, do not run from me.” He growls, the noise sending a little shiver down my spine. “You do not want me to chase you.”
“I think I might.” I laugh.
His eyes darken, the threat in his voice holds an exciting promise that has me gasping before I turn and dart up the path we followed to the river.
He lets out a roar. The noise that echoes through the trees makes my heart beat faster and sends a thrilling pulse straight to my pussy.
I laugh, but run a little faster, leaping off the little dirt trail and into the tree line.
Behind me, large feet crash through the undergrowth.
I duck behind a tree, putting my back to the trunk. I’ve stopped for less than a breath when a strong arm circles me, pulling me sideways and pressing my back against a wide flat chest. He heaves me off the ground so that my feet dangle uselessly in the air. His arms splay over my front, spreading heat across my body, one arm crosses my waist as the other creeps up my chest. Tilting my head back and up so large fingers can wrap gently around my neck, my hands grasp his hairy forearm and heavy breath tickles my ear.
“Fuck. You really are a beast, aren’t you? Running away from me, like frightened little prey.” His voice is almost pained.
He presses his nose to my hair, sucking in a long, deep breath before his lips press a light kiss to my hot skin. Desire shoots through my limbs. I’m at his mercy like this, completely trapped by his grip. My body shivers with need.
“You can’t do that, my beast. I like seeing you run from me. I like it too much,” He mutters against my skin. His grip squeezes me against his body, pressing my ass into a thick, hard rod that proves just how much he likes it. “Running makes me see you as prey, and there are only two things I do with prey.”
“What’s that?”
“Eat it, or fuck it.”
His dark voice sends a pulse through my clit, and something like a whimper escapes my tightly pressed lips.
“That noise isn’t helping. Run from me again, and I might not be able to stop myself. Do you understand, my beast? You treat me like a man, but I’m a monster, with urges and dark desires that you might not understand, and I don’t know if I can control it.”
His thumb traces back and forth across the sensitive column of my throat. I feel my pulse racing under his hand. He’s terrifying, and strong, and wonderful.
“Okay,” I give a shaky nod.
“I don’t want to act like an animal,” he growls, “but next time I catch you, the beast in me will have to fuck you against a tree until you are screaming for mercy. Please, do not run from me.”
Hell. Hell, and shit, and fuck. That sounds too good.
“I won”t run.” I promise him, finally wetting my dry mouth. I feel like all the moisture in my body is pooling somewhere else.
“Good girl.” His voice is serious as he slowly lets me slip down his body to the ground. “Now, let me take you home and make you dinner, like a gentleman would.”
He takes a step away from me, and my whole back grows cold. My feet are frozen in place, contemplating his promise, but also his plea. I’m not sure I want him to be a gentleman, but I don’t know if I am ready to tempt the monster inside him right now, not when he asked me not to. Sacha trudges back down the dirt trail back to the river, retrieving our clothing and our dinner. Without a word, he hands me my bathing suit cover-up, the bucket of fish in his other hand. He barely meets my eye as we walk back to the cabin. He seems embarrassed and ashamed, but every part of me feels highlighted. Alive with need.
“I need to change,” I announce loudly when we step into the cabin. I race to my bedroom, locking the door behind me.
The ache between my legs reminds me that it’s been a long time since I let anyone into my pants. I should just go back out there and fuck him, shouldn’t I?
The fact that I want to so badly means it”s a bad idea. I’m such a fool about men, males. He’s not a man, he’s a monster. He said as much himself. Even coming here with him was probably a mistake. A remote location with a male I barely know. A male with big warm hands and a big hard chest, and a big fat cock. My friends don’t even know where exactly I am. He could do anything to me, and I might let him.
I lean my back to the door and shove my hand down the waistband of my wet shorts. Creeping my fingers beneath my underwear and press between my thighs, down toward the needy heat of my core. I stroking my fingers between my lips and across my clit. I’m already so wet. It’s easy to indulge myself in a few fantasies of Sacha. Him bursting through my door, climbing on top of me, or taking me against the wall. Chasing me down the way he promised he would.
He’s always making promises, but what if I ran out there right now? Ran past him. Would he chase me into the woods? Push me down into the dirt? Shove his cock into me?
I grab a breast, rolling a nipple between two fingers, and bite back a groan. Wishing it was his hand on me, his mouth, his cock pleasuring me, using me for his own desires. I slip another finger inside myself and have to drop my breast and shove my knuckle into my mouth to stop a groan from escaping. I am sure that he would hear it, hear me. It only makes me want him more. The idea of him on the other side of the door only makes me clench around my fingers tighter. I whisper his name as I come.