Chapter 9
Sex with McKenna had been the best he’d ever had.
Which said a lot since he’d just turned thirty last month and had engaged in his fair share of intimacy.
He ran his hand down her back, following the curve of her spine, then rested his palm on the rise of her backside and inhaled a deep breath of her hair.
A low exhale reached his ears, and he stilled his hand. The crevice between her legs called him, and his fingers twitched with the need to bring her to orgasm again.
McKenna snuggled deeper into the pillow, which caused her butt to wiggle beneath the blanket he’d tucked over them when he stirred a while ago.
He closed his eyes. He’d never get back to sleep.
Maybe another round and he’d get out the last of his lust for the day.
After all, he’d promised McKenna one night.
Not one round. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.
The skies could break open and the sun could melt the snow.
The power could come back on and snap them back to reality—and possibly hit them with regret, as McKenna had mentioned earlier.
Not for him. Hell fucking no. For as long as he lived, he’d never regret a single moment with McKenna.
Even knowing the cougar attack was what led him to her door.
He’d do it all again—preferably with a shotgun in hand as opposed to bear spray—if it meant he’d have this moment with her .
. . and the rest of the hours that were left in the day.
One thing was certain: he’d make sure McKenna regretted the one-night promise more than the sex. Another sigh came from her lips, and he took that as his cue. He slowly inched his fingers to the valley between her thighs. Warmth followed her creamy wetness.
Christ almighty.
He touched her slick slit with his fingertips. All the moisture left his mouth. Her body tensed against his chest. He paused, waiting for a sign that she wanted him to continue. Her butt pushed back into his palm.
He delved his finger inside her and she moaned. Then he slid his middle finger in to join his index and invaded her with both. Her sharp little cries sent his arousal through the roof. It took all of his willpower not to take her from behind again.
Her hips rocked against his fingers, and throaty moans broke the still air. Her slick cushions throbbed around his fingers, squeezing them. More wetness coated his skin. She stopped moving and her breath came out with a little cry. She rolled onto her back and stared at him through the darkness.
She rested her hand on his cheek. “What was that, some kind of encore?” Fatigue laced her voice, and for a second, he regretted waking her.
“Nah, it was a preview.” He nodded to the window at the foot of the bed. “If I’m not mistaken, we’ve got a whole night ahead of us.”
She propped herself onto her elbow. “I’m pretty sure we agreed on—”
“One night,” he said, and he didn’t try to keep the laughter out of his voice. “You’ll be surprised how many times I can get it up in a night.”
She giggled. “Oh please. You know what I meant.”
“We said one night, and I plan to make use of it. Besides,” he said, trailing his fingers over the top of her shoulder and across her cheek. “You’ve made me a slave to that pussy.”
She guffawed and slapped his chest. “Such a gentleman,” she said, amusement dripping from the sarcasm.
“I’d say three orgasms in a couple of hours is very gentlemanly.”
“Well—”
The yellow glow of headlights hit the window.
McKenna shot into a sitting position and pressed the blankets to her chest. “Someone’s here.”
He rolled out of bed, pulled on his briefs, and stumbled to the window, hitting his big toe on the footboard on the way. “Shit,” he mumbled, as he pried open the blinds.
“Who is it?” McKenna lurched off the end of the bed, the sheets swathed around her body.
He studied the vehicle beyond the headlights, and his brain worked at warp speed. Beside him, McKenna inhaled sharply. She spun away from the window and shoved her legs into her pants then tossed her sweater over her head. “Get the shotgun.”
* * *
McKenna weaved through the house, Jaxon behind her. She grabbed the shotgun at the back door. Footsteps crunched on the porch, all the more audible with the lack of electricity coursing through the house.
“Dammit, McKenna. Tell me who the hell it is.” Jaxon blocked her path at the living room.
She swallowed, and tears filled her eyes. He’d come back, just as he’d said he would. He’d done all this—killed her generator, leaked her fuel, watched Jaxon and her kiss. And now he was back to finish the job.
Not this time. This time she was ready. She’d pull the trigger. Jaxon vibrated on the spot.
“It’s Trevor.”
Knock, knock, knock
“That fucking cocksucker.” Jaxon stormed across the cabin’s short distance. McKenna trailed in his wake, grabbing the flashlight from the table in the living room on the way. He yanked open the door.
Trevor jerked backward, his fist hovering in the air, poised for another knock.
McKenna flicked on the flashlight. Trevor blinked, and she moved the globe to his chest.
“Uh—hey, Jaxon.” Confusion puckered Trevor’s dark features. He wore a beanie over his short dark hair. His winter coat was zipped up practically over his chin.
Jaxon pulled back his arm and sucker punched him in his wide, thick, red nose.
McKenna let out a tight scream and tightened her hold on the handle of the gun.
Trevor grasped the doorframe and clamped his free hand over his face. His skin flushed and he locked eyes with Jaxon. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“You’ve been stalking her. We know you’ve been lurking around the house, fucking with her property.”
Trevor’s gaze flew to McKenna, and he blinked rapidly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear to god.” He pulled his hand away. Blood coated his fingers. He wiped his face on the sleeve of his jacket.
A small weight of doubt stuck to the lining of her stomach like a burr. She rolled her tongue inside her mouth to stop the accusations that wanted to hit Trevor as fast as Jaxon’s fist had.
Jaxon’s wide shoulders filled most of the doorway. “Get the hell out of here, Trevor. If I find you near McKenna’s property again, I’ll throw your ass in the wood chipper.”
McKenna cringed. God, he couldn’t be serious. “Ah, he doesn’t mean that,” she called out.
“Yes, I—”
“Jaxon,” she hissed, jabbing her fingers into his side. He flinched and rubbed the wounded area but didn’t tear his gaze from Trevor.
“If you come around here again, McKenna will press charges.” He turned to face her. “Better?”
She rolled her eyes.
A muscle in Trevor’s jaw jumped as he stared at her, but he didn’t back away, nor did rage fizzle from his pores as it had on his last visit.
“You don’t really think I did that, do you? That I creeped your place and damaged your property? I know we had a misunderstanding before—”
McKenna drew up to her full height and elbowed Jaxon out of the way. “There was no misunderstanding, Trevor. You pushed yourself inside my house and refused to leave. You groped me. You kissed me. You violated me.” Anger shook her words, and it took all of her strength not to point the gun at him.
Jaxon’s arm looped around her waist and he pulled her to his side, taking the shotgun from her hand. The tension radiating up and down her body dissipated.
Trevor opened and closed his mouth. He dragged his palm over his face.
“Look, I misread your signals. I get that. I was drunk, and . . .” He turned from the door and paced in a wide circle, then stopped.
“You have every reason not to believe me. But please, come take a look at what’s in my truck before accusing me.
” He gestured to his vehicle, whose headlights beamed across the snow.
McKenna lifted her chin to read Jaxon’s face. The sharp line of his jaw moved back and forth. He kept his stare on Trevor.
“Why?” Jaxon barked. “What’s in your truck?”
Trevor motioned with his arm and stormed off the porch steps. Jaxon’s arm steeled itself against her side. “You stay here.” He grabbed his boots and shoved his feet inside. “If anything happens, lock the door,” he said, exiting the cabin.
Indecision weighed on her. She wasn’t going to sit in the house. Not when this whole fiasco was about her. She had a right to read Trevor, to gauge his reaction and judge whatever his claim was for being at her door. She couldn’t do so from inside.
She pulled on her coat, shoved her feet in her boots, strapped on the snowshoes as fast as she could—thankfully she’d become an expert over the years—and followed Jaxon into the snow.
The throttling sound of the diesel truck grew louder, shocking her senses.
And the sight of Jaxon’s deep footprints made her cringe.
This wouldn’t help his cough, although he’d improved drastically since that morning.
She kept her attention on Trevor as he made his way to the back of the truck. Jaxon plodded a few paces ahead of her. If he sensed her approach, he didn’t react.
Jaxon lifted the gun and pointed it at Trevor.
“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” Trevor drawled. “You really gonna aim that thing at me?”
McKenna stopped next to Jaxon and shoved her free hand in her pocket. Her hand holding the flashlight shook, creating a strobe effect. Her feet were dry, but her bare hands were freezing.
“Just until I see what you have to show us.” Jaxon’s nonchalant tone made her suck down a chuckle.
Trevor huffed and pulled open the tailgate.
“I’ll have you know I’ve been taking necessities to everyone stranded out of town.
Mr. Miller from Miller’s Market donated bottles of water, canned goods, and a bunch of other stuff.
Me and a few others volunteered. I’ve been at it all day making deliveries.
” He shrugged and swung his gaze to McKenna.
“Sorry I made it here so late. I figured you wouldn’t want to see me, but I sure as shit didn’t expect that welcome.
” Trevor extended his hand and pushed on the barrel of the shotgun.
Jaxon lowered it, stepped closer to the cab, and surveyed the inside. His brows pinched together as he dropped the gun to his side. “Take a look,” he said, nodding at McKenna.
McKenna stepped forward and shone the light inside. Sure enough, several cases of water were piled up in the back of the truck, all the way to the bed cover. There were also boxes full of canned soup, loaves of bread, jars of peanut butter, and even packages of batteries.
“See,” Trevor said. “You can ask everyone in the backcountry. I’ve made stops all day.
No way I would’ve had time to traipse around your property.
” He scratched his head. “Actually, I saw Dr. Lots a couple hours ago. I think he said there was some suspicious activity on his land too. You might want to check with him when the roads clear. I’m pretty sure your land meets his. ”
“And the Watsons? Did you see them too?” The Watsons were closest to her property to the west.
Jaxon swung his attention to her. “Who’s that?”
She nodded in the direction of their property. “They’re about a mile that way. You’d know them around town. They have twin eighteen-year-old boys.”
“Andy and Clay are good kids,” Trevor piped up. “They’ve been helping all day with their four-wheeler. I think they just got home for the night. I volunteered to make the last few stops so they could get a break from the cold.”
McKenna nodded slowly. The burr of doubt turned into a tumbleweed.
The man who’d stared through her window, messed with her generator, and leaked her fuel hadn’t been Trevor.
And as Trevor had said, the Watson boys were good kids.
They were the last ones she’d suspect, which was why she hadn’t mentioned them to Jaxon.
She should have been relieved. She should have been happy that Trevor, the man she’d pegged as a predator, was no longer obsessed with her—or at least not enough to continue stalking her. Instead, terror turned the fire of her fear into a river of ice. She shivered.
Someone wanted to hurt her, and not having a suspect was more terrifying than having one.