Chapter 42 - August #2
She glances at the ceiling. “God, Hell Prince, can I please trade him in for a morally gray stalker? You know, the one who takes me on a romantic hike chases me through the woods, hunts me, catches me, and ravages my gorgeous curves against a tree?”
I whip her ass again, and she squeaks. “I’m not the kind of man that plays house and bakes cookies while the threat still breathes.”
Her eyes trail appreciatively down my body. “Shame. You look hot in my apron and make delicious pancakes.”
I roll the towel into a rope. “Just pancakes?”
She pretends to think, lips twitching with the start of a mischievous smile. I get her with another snap to the side of her thigh.
She shrieks and flicks a palmful of bubbles at me. “You’re incapable of chill. Can’t we have a few days off and relax like normal people?”
She needs this slice of normal to discourage her nervous system from bracing for war.
Time to pretend the world isn’t sharpening knives with our names etched into them.
Mornings like this filled with coffee and breakfast, her dog cradled in her lap, feeding him pieces of bacon.
After everything she went through these last few days, she deserves the illusion of peace, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let down my guard.
Before I give her that, I need her to understand this can’t last. “We’re out of the city, but not out of the storm. We need to be ready if they come.”
My job used to be to protect her. Now we do it as a team, cutting off the new heads of the hydra.
She leans into me, warm, soft, and everything I didn’t think I’d get to keep. “You’re a buzz kill, Hell Daddy.” I want to erase the worry lines that haven’t faded.
I snuggle up behind her and wrap my arms around her. “Help me set this up, so you know where the landmines and weapons go, just in case, and then you can have as many baking days as you need.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head, then to her temple, savoring the way she melts and closes her eyes.
She smiles, and I hate that it’s not her sunshine one. “Fine. We execute your plan. Then you’re all mine. Naked and in my apron, baking me cookies, and feeding them to me.”
A fair exchange.
“Then I’ll tie you to the chair, feed you, and ride you,” I growl into her ear, and massage her rigid shoulders to release some of her tension.
Her mouth lifts into a smile. “Threaten me with a good time anytime you want, Daddy.”
After the dishes, we spend the morning packing waterproof plastic bags with supplies, spare medical kits, fire starters, water purification tablets, weapons, and non-perishable food.
Then we pack some sandwiches, water bottles, and doggy treats.
When I clip PJ3’s leash, the terrier dances in circles.
Late morning sun filters through the thick cedar canopy as we commence our wild trail. I let PJ3 free, and he sprints for the tree line, taking the lead of our expedition.
“Tell your son to behave,” I tease, linking our hands.
“He’s your son now too, Daddy,” she counters with a playful smile not hiding anything behind it.
I’m fucking glad it’s just her and me, no secrets or barriers between us.
For a long time, I told myself control mattered.
Plans, backups, protocols for escape routes and survival.
My transmission to the city wasn’t planned, it was risky and impulsive.
But it saved her. She said if it wasn’t for me, she might never have gotten the upper hand and escaped.
That wasn’t the only thing that didn’t go according to plan. Loving her, letting her in, that was the only plan that ever mattered. I’ll gladly make another sacrifice for her to live… hence the business and pleasure hike this afternoon.
Kate’s gorgeous in her sweatpants and sweatshirt with a thick overcoat and glittery boots crunching on twigs and soggy leaves. I slow my pace for her, since she’s not used to the strenuous exercise.
“Is this training?” she pants, pushing sweaty hair from her face. “Or are you trying to kill me on a scenic route?”
I squeeze her hand. “I’ll make a hiker out of you if you’re going to become a Kelly.”
She stops, clutching the straps of her pack. “Is that Grumpy Daddy’s way of asking me to marry him?”
I pause mid-step and turn slowly. “We’re talking in the third person about me now?”
“I just want to be clear before I collapse from romantic hypothermia, Grumpy Daddy.” She’s gone back to that name since I’m punishing her by making her hike, instead of playing naked Scrabble.
I adjust the weight of the bag on my shoulder. “Consider this proposal prep. If you can hike six miles with weapons and sass, you’re eligible to enter the Kelly Dynasty.”
She pinches my puffy jacket and twists my nipple, making me grunt. “You do not offer a Book Girlie a survival badge in lieu of a ring!”
I smirk. “One step at a time, Glitter Bomb. First, we stash the machete, then we talk about matching toothbrushes.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “I don’t do slow burns!”
I spank her on the ass to get her moving. “Keep it up, Glitter Bomb, and I’ll up your drills.”
We’re three clicks into the forest, high enough that the air’s thinner, and quiet enough to hear her heartbeat if I stop walking. Josh leaves a trail of footprints ahead of us, occasionally disappearing into the snow to sniff and pee.
“How far away from the cabin do you want to stash the weapons?” she pants behind me, crunching over the fine layer of snow, her cheeks and nose red with exertion.
I scan the terrain ahead and choose a hollowed stump by the ridge. “We’ll stash the first one there.” I point to it, and she squints, following my fingers.
At that location, I drop the canvas duffel to the ground.
Next, we navigate in a circle to the next drop, winding up a narrow ridge marked with discreet orange flagging.
I dig a shallow cache pit, while she unwraps the lockbox and checks the contents.
Steel knives, two spare pistols, loaded mags, painkillers, flares, two burner phones, all sealed in plastic. And a special bag of jerky for PJ3.
She nudges my shoulder. “You forgot the candy, Daddy.”
“You’re sweet enough as it is.” I kiss her cheek.
“Tone down the charm.” She covers her eyes. “It’s too bright!”
“Keep walking, smartass.” I spank her crouched ass and relish her squeak.
We keep walking for another two miles, and I point to the places I know well. Camping spots where we lay outside to watch the stars. The stream that always flooded every summer. Best vantage points to take in the mountains.
“I used to race my brother up that slope.” I point to the narrow track carved into the hillside. “Loser carried firewood back to camp. Spoiler alert: I lost a lot.”
“I can’t imagine you losing.” Kate swings my arms.
She tugs me, and the memory fades, swapped for recollections of scraped knees from climbing the steep terrain.
A quarter of a mile up, she starts to mutter, again, something about frostbite, evil ex-cops, and how glittery hiking boots aren’t made for tactical fairy warfare.
I chuckle at her and give her a quick kiss and cuddle to ease the burn in her legs.
At the crest, I point out a break in the tree line. “See that formation? The rock wall shaped like a wolf’s head?”
She squints into the distance. “Looks more like a sad dolphin.”
Whatever. She can pick her animal. “That’s our marker. Two hundred southeast of it, there’s a hollow in the rock. That’s where we’ll hide the rifle and med kit.”
She takes a long inhale to catch her breath. “What’s the plan if we get separated?”
“We don’t. I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight.”
She puts her hands on her hips and gives me one of those looks. “So you won’t lead them away from me and let me get to safety?”
“Nope,” I reply. “We both stick together. Follow the trail markers.”
Kate nods this time. “Okay, Daddy.”
I hand her the rifle. “And if all else fails, you shoot this.”
“I’m going to need lessons with the rifle,” she sasses me. “Harper only taught me to point and shoot handguns.”
“Lessons are for tomorrow,” I tease, knowing she’ll groan.
She does, loudly enough to chase half the forest away. “Such a drill sergeant.”
By the time we head back, the sun’s low. Shadows stretch long across the ground, making the trees look taller. The cabin comes into view, wood golden in the sunset. Wisps of smoke rise from the chimney, the fire almost out.
My muscles ache in a good way, and it’s an excuse to get my Glitter Bomb into the tub for another sensual bubble bath after what I have planned.
Time for my second plan to commence. A semi-primal play slash home-invasion fantasy. Start small and build from there. I stop and click buttons on my watch, setting a timer.
Josh sprints back, his tail high and swishing.
She stops and spins on her heels. “What’s wrong?”
I take a step toward her, curling my hand behind her neck. “You’ve been a very good girl, Glitter Bomb. And good girls get rewards.”
Her eyes widen. “What kind of rewards?”
I lift the watch to communicate my intentions. “You’ve got five minutes to run and hide in the cabin. Leave the door open for me. Then I’m going to give you the full fantasy. Gag, ropes, and fucking the glitter out of your brains. What’s your safe word?”
She’s trembling from the thrill. “Tree.”
Brave little menace. I’m starting to love that danger turns her on.
“Are you ready?” I activate the timer.
She bites her lip and smiles. “I’m ready, Daddy.”
I bend to whisper the last of it. “Get your ass moving and give me the perfect view.”
She forgets about blisters and cramping muscles and jogs away, and I love the way her bottom jiggles in her sweats. I’m going to fuck her from behind and enjoy the sweet bounce she’s giving me.