Over seven months had passed since she’d had the pleasure of a real penis. Jamie Fields watched as rickety old Groundskeeper Jobe ambled across the lawn, and wondered if she should hit him up for a one-night stand. That’s how desperate she had become, because she couldn’t get anything else.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Jobe asked, and waved his liver-spotted hand out in front of him, gesturing toward the trees.
The leaves were beginning to change to the autumn hues of pale yellow and burnt orange in the deep woods of Northern Ontario. This was the time of year that fishermen loathed as the boating season would soon be at an end.
“It sure is,” she called back, and released a disgruntled breath as he hobbled away. Ol’ Jobe probably got lucky more than she did. He was a horny old man and smooth with the widows that often vacationed here. She shuddered, recalling a time she’d accidentally caught him massaging the back of a woman’s neck while whispering something in her ear. That woman looked as if she was about to have an orgasm, and it was extremely uncomfortable to watch.
Jamie glanced across the grounds and sighed. She both loved and hated this time of year. While she loved the beautiful fall colors, the hot days, and cool evenings at the beginning of September, she hated having to leave the wilderness and return to her apartment in the city. One month to go before the fun ended and real life returned.
Back to real life and real problems.
Every May she left home to return to Sharp Ridge Lodge, three hours north of the city—as their housekeeper. While Jamie didn’t enjoy the daily routine of cleaning up after people, summer life in the middle of nowhere had many rewards. After supper she could do as she pleased. Swim. Fish. Hike across the terrain that spanned for miles on end. Go for a leisure boat ride. Sit by a campfire. Have a sauna and jump off the dock. Enjoy a few drinks in the rustic lounge in the main lodge, and play cards with the staff and guests on rainy days. All of these things were a wonderful and relaxing experience, and she met hundreds of people throughout the season.
Sharp Ridge Lodge was famous for its rustic setting and world-class fishing. It came as no surprise to staff if a customer returned with a forty-pound pike or a ten-pound pickerel. The guests may be awestruck, overexcited, and eager to bring their prize home, but to everyone who worked here, those catches were just another day in the bush.
In total they had a dozen cabins of various sizes for the guests, neatly situated behind the main lodge which stood on the ridge overlooking the bay. Each of the staff had their own tiny cabin nestled in the back on the hill overlooking the main grounds. Other buildings scattered over the property consisted of a fish cleaning hut, generator and pump house, mechanic shop, laundry building, and a sauna. Sharp Ridge Lodge had everything a person could want for a wilderness retreat. Although the lodge had that rustic, in-the-middle-of-nowhere vibe, guests were still treated with as much luxury as they wanted. All with running water, thanks to a screened hose running from the lake to the pump house, where it snaked off to each cabin underneath the lawn.
But the end of the season was fast approaching. Another group of guests would arrive by plane this afternoon, and next week the last group would arrive. Guest accommodations usually shut down during the last week of September, and the staff would winterize the buildings during the first week of October. In another month Jamie would be back at home, desperately searching for a new winter job.
She eyed the list of guests from her clipboard and which cabin needed preparing before their arrival. One cabin with two queen beds for two elderly couples on a three-week stay; a single honeymoon retreat for two newlyweds for one week; and a single cabin for one man on an indefinite stay.
She stared at the last name, Jack Daniels, and chuckled. That was her last foster father’s favorite whiskey. How she missed his funny anecdotes when he got plastered. He had been one of the decent ones. So many homes she had been taken from and dropped off to over her younger years, only to live in fear of either being abused or of liking them too much. Her favorite “father” had died of liver failure when she was seventeen. A year after that his wife passed away after a botched operation, and since then Jamie had been on her own. She’d never known her real parents, only that they had been too young to care for a child, and when too much time had passed without an offer of adoption, the foster system took her into its clutch.
Jamie wouldn’t allow herself to love anyone ever again. The good ones always ended up dying, and the bad ones never seemed to learn from their mistakes. More than once she had been sexually abused by an adult who was supposed to care and provide for her—not treat her as a toy or a pet. She’d been beaten to the point of not being able to go to school for risk of bruises being noticed, and she’d gone without a proper meal on many occasions. Those days were hard, but they hardened her as a person. When her final foster folks came into the picture, Jamie was a damaged girl, yet they loved her and provided for her, made her feel like she was a part of a family. When they died, her perfect world had vanished, replaced, once again, by an uncertain future. The only certain thing in Jamie’s life now was her resolve to continue pushing forward.
Maybe one day she could make her dream into reality and be loved by somebody who wouldn’t leave her behind. Fame and fortune had never been a part of that dream, only the certainty of having a loving home.
Never give up. Never give in.
“Hey.”
From her perch on the top of a picnic table, she turned toward the familiar voice and smiled. Monty, the lodge cook, strolled toward her wearing an Iron Maiden T-shirt, a black bandana with skulls imprinted everywhere, and jeans with the knees completely ripped out. What set him off from every other man she’d met over the years was his sense of humor, and a ridiculous porn moustache. Monty was the typical metal man, and her best friend.
Jamie smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted. “Sure,” she said, before he had a chance to ask.
Monty chuckled. “Got me all figured out already, eh twit?”
She set her clipboard down and gave him her full attention. “If we didn’t do this routine every day, then I might wonder why you’re walking toward me after lunch ended.”
He unrolled his pack of smokes from the shoulder of his T-shirt and joined her on the picnic table. “The boss wants moose meat for our new guests tonight.”
Jamie eyeballed him. “Since when do we keep wild game off-season?”
“We don’t.”
She stared at him in confused silence as Monty lit his cigarette, closed his eyes, and took a deep drag. After a long moment of suspense he glanced back at her with a sly grin. “But we have lots of beef.”
“Ah.” Jamie laughed as she scammed one of his cigarettes. “And you expect to pull this off without suspicion?”
He shrugged and handed over his lighter. “I’ll just add some crazy seasoning. The city folk won’t know the difference. Besides, Valerie is to blame if I get caught. She told them they were getting a wild northern meal.”
Jamie shook her head. “You’re an ass, you know that? Why not just cook up some pickerel for your wild northern meal?”
The door to the lodge whipped open and the person in question stepped out, shielding her eyes from the glaring sun. “There you are,” the boss said, her face flushed, her voice rising with hysteria. Valerie stared past Jamie. Even though Monty tried his best to hide behind her, his huge frame allowed no such thing. “Monty! Mrs. Westwood would like another salad.”
Jamie pursed her lips to halt a burst of laughter. One might’ve thought the kitchen was on fire by Valerie’s horrified expression—over a salad.
“Ugh.” Monty stood and snubbed out his half smoke on the edge of the picnic table. “I don’t know why she can’t do it herself. Obviously she has no idea how frustrating it is cooking all summer for these people while she mingles and smiles.” He leaned closer to add, “But rumor has it she’s losing money, you know. I’ve noticed she’s been drinking more than usual lately. I think she’s getting ready to sell.”
Jamie’s stomach flipped and she sucked in a sharp breath. Valerie promised to give her a loan to catch up on some hefty bills as long as Jamie promised to work off that debt. Rent was past due and her landlord had already threatened to evict her if she didn’t catch up when she returned at the end of the season. That wasn’t her only worry. She stared down at the lawn as another fear gripped her. The past had a terrible way of racing up to people and slapping them in the face. When you owe money to a dangerous person, well, either you catch up fast or you get broken. This had to be the worst year of her life, but she wouldn’t admit the truth to Monty. He’d call her more than a twit if he knew what shady deal she’d messed up back at home because of a dark past she wanted to forget.
She forced a tight smile. “I’m sure it’s just a rumor. You know Jobe is always causing shit.”
Monty nodded. “True. Want to switch jobs? I bet you could do a decent job whipping up a salad.”
Brushing off her personal worries, Jamie glanced up at him and arched a brow. “And I bet you could do a decent job wiping out a toilet.”
He grimaced as he rolled his smokes back up into his T-shirt. “Never mind. That’s a woman’s job.”
Monty retreated to the back door leading into the kitchen, but not quickly enough for her to shout back, “Kiss my womanly ass!” She continued staring as the screen door smacked behind him. Since day one working at Sharp Ridge Lodge five years ago, they hit it off as immediate friends, only to find out they lived right around the corner from each other in the city. Even though Monty was a good man with a big heart, not once did she ever think to strike up a relationship with him. Her love and appreciation for the man never went beyond friendship. Besides, the thought of kissing a man whose mustache curled over his lips made her cringe.
After a good stretch, Jamie hopped off the picnic table, grabbed the clipboard, and headed toward the laundry building to put her cleaning basket together and gather up the linens she needed.
A groundhog scurried across the lawn and disappeared underneath one of the guest quarters. Those little buggers were everywhere around here, but they caused no trouble to the staff or the guests. The skunks were another matter altogether. Groundskeeper Jobe was about to blow his wig if he had to catch another one of them black and white devils. Jamie loved to accompany him as he set his live trap boxes then brought the furry beasts out to an island to inhabit. The very island the yearly canoeists liked to camp on.
Bringing the skunks to the island was a funny little joke between the staff at Sharp Ridge Lodge. While they didn’t want to kill the skunks, they didn’t want them stinking up the lodge grounds either. Since the canoeists tended to get in the way of the fishermen, Jobe came up with the idea to let the skunks and the canoeists have their very own island. Every once in a while a scream could be heard echoing over the lake in the direction of Skunk Island.
Over the next two hours Jamie set up the cabins for the elderly guests and the honeymoon couple. The last cabin to prepare was for the mystery man with no leaving date. After the bathroom sparkled and the floors gleamed, she set out making the bed with hunter green cotton sheets and a floral comforter set in the same deep green. Even the window curtains had the same floral pattern—green being the color of all linen on site with pops of hot pink and yellow. Even though Jamie didn’t care for any type of floral pattern, she had to admit it gave the cabins a cozy, almost Hawaiian vibe.
She had just finished her final walk-through to make sure she hadn’t missed anything when the distinct rumble of the float plane soared over the lodge. Jamie grabbed her basket, closed the cabin door, and headed back to the laundry building to complete her washing.
Once her chores were completed for the day, she headed up the path that curved around a thicket of pine, poplar, and mountain ash, toward her cabin overlooking the grounds. She changed into her bathing suit, grabbed a towel, and headed down to the swimming hole next to the cliffs that lined the west side of the property. Sometimes she and Monty would jump or dive off those twenty-foot cliffs. Today, she decided on a leisure swim just beneath them.
The new arrivals would be in the dining lounge right now enjoying their wild northern meal, then mingle with other guests and staff before retiring to their cabins for the night. Tomorrow the fun of fishing expeditions, hiking trails, or games would begin. Valerie always had something fun planned for the guests. They could enjoy outings as a group if they chose, or just do whatever they desired on their own. They could even take a guide out with them if they weren’t comfortable navigating the twenty-thousand acre lake on their own.
She dove into the murky water, so dark she couldn’t see a foot past her face, and frog-swam beneath the surface as far as her lungs would take her. When she crested the top, she released a content, invigorated sigh from the cool water on such a hot day. She repeated this move several times, back and forth from shore—a ritual she performed as much as she could handle.
The distant hum of a boat motor echoed across the bay. A couple of ravens squawked at each other nearby. A tiny avalanche of pebbles skidded down the steep slope beside the cliffs. Jamie swung her body around in the water and glanced up at the cliff, her gaze halting on a man standing there watching her.
He withdrew one hand from the pocket of his jogging pants and waved. “Hey there. Sorry if I scared you. I came across a trail and found this spot.”
Something in his mouth glinted in the sunlight. “It’s okay. You must be one of the new guests. I’m Jamie, your housekeeper.”
“Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Jack.”
The mysterious Jack Daniels. “Nice to meet you, Jack. What brings you to our little paradise in the woods?” Jamie’s arms were beginning to tire from treading water for too long, but she had no plans to drag herself out and climb up that hill just to shake his hand. She could introduce herself properly later on in the lounge. Swimming after work was her private time.
His soft chuckle made goose bumps slip down her arms. “I thought everyone came to places like this for peace and quiet?”
“Depends if you’re fishing or hunting I suppose, although small game season doesn’t start for another couple of weeks.” From where she treaded water, he looked like he could be the bushman type. He stood strong and confident; wide shoulders tapered to a lean waist. A thick black beard concealed most of his face, and he wore a baseball cap. But from this distance, she couldn’t make out any fine details about his features.
“I’ll probably do some fishing, but no hunting for me anyway.”
Jamie laughed and stretched her arms out, moving in a fluid motion a short distance from where she had treaded water. It was getting harder and harder to keep her chin above the water. “Not the hunting type, Jack?” She wanted to end the conversation and get back to shore.
“I don’t believe in killing animals.”
“Good to know. It’s not hunting season anyway.” Despite her exhaustion, Jamie smiled when he laughed. “Well, maybe I’ll see you later. You’re more than welcome to join us all in the lounge this evening. It’s kind of a ritual around here.” She started swimming toward the low end of the shore while she still had enough strength not to drown in front of him.
“Sure,” he called out as she disappeared around the cliff face.
As soon as she reached the first flat boulder just beneath the surface of the water, she climbed on top and let out an exhausted groan. Every muscle in her arms screamed that she’d pushed herself too far, but she loved the water. In her eyes, drowning would probably be the best way to go.
Once she regained her breath and her strength, she made it to shore and wrapped the towel around her body. Something made her look over her shoulder toward the area of the cliffs at the dense brush hiding the walking path behind. She didn’t see him there, but she wondered if the stranger had watched her swim back, or if he stood there watching her now.
* * * *
Later that night a strong autumn breeze swished through the trees as twilight fell over Sharp Ridge Lodge. Jamie headed down the path from her cabin surrounded by darkness, yet she knew by heart exactly where to step, having walked these grounds many times over her five years working here. She knew everything by heart. Twenty-eight steps down the path until she reached the flat expanse of the lawn. Eight steps to the right she would reach the first of three woodsheds, then the guest cabins, and then the lodge just beyond. Although Valerie insisted that staff carry a flashlight at night, Jamie had no need for it. The mystery of the woods with the frogs croaking all around the path was just one intriguing part of working and living here.
The property of the camp itself would be equivalent to three football fields, and beyond the grounds stretched for hundreds of miles in every direction. This site could only be accessed by float plane, helicopter, or portaging from the nearest village.
Communication with the outside world consisted of a CB radio used to call in the weather report and to call the base post in town. Other than that, the only connection the staff had with family was by written letter. Every day a plane arrived either with guests or supplies, and sometimes both. It came as no surprise to Jamie at all if the plane was full of passengers and gear with a boat tied to each float. If she had a dollar for every time a plane barely crested the treetops, then maybe she wouldn’t be in debt.
A familiar sound carried along the wind. Jamie smiled as Valerie’s loud cackle blew every other sound out of the water. She must be regaling the guests with stories of past adventures to strumming every banjo tune she knew. Jamie didn’t mind her boss’s silly ways, as long as she didn’t force her to dance with some horny old man like Jobe. Then again, maybe she’d actually get laid if she did.
The cool air swished up her naked legs. She stopped on the path and looked back through the black void, wondering if she should change from shorts and tank top into something warmer. A storm must be brewing as it often did this time of year.
I’ll be warm inside the lodge anyway. She continued along the path. One of the staff would have a fire going on a chilly night like this.
As Jamie opened the main door, a haze of cigarette and cigar smoke filled the room. Most of the twelve guests on site were gathered around the massive stone fireplace, listening to Valerie repeat one of her famous stories.
“…and he almost hooked his nose when the fish spit out the Daredevil, that poor man. I think he learned pretty quickly not to stand up in the boat and yank too hard on his rod!”
The crowd erupted with laughter. Valerie’s cheeks were flushed with excitement and too much to drink. She waved her arms around, creating more hype for the story; booze swished over the rim of her glass, spattering on the floor beside her.
Jamie chuckled as she ambled up beside Monty, amazed to see him wearing a checkered button-down shirt and slacks instead of the usual skull-and-bones gear. Valerie must’ve dressed him tonight. She quirked an amused brow and leaned against a log post behind the guests. “How many has she had?”
“About half a dozen, I guess.”
“No wonder she’s so loud. That woman can’t handle her booze.”
Monty chuckled and glanced out over the crowd. “Yeah, but they love her.”
He was right. Everyone watched her in rapt fascination as she continued on with another story about a group of men who were lost on the lake during a storm. Everyone listened intently to every word. Except for one man. His attention was fixed on Jamie.
Jamie swallowed as her gaze met his and held. She’d always thought the saying “there was something about him that I couldn’t resist” was utterly pathetic, and yet, that was exactly how she felt right now as they stared at each other. It seemed like this Jack Daniels guy had a temporary spell over her. His dark eyes, glowing amber in the firelight, held her in their grip. A slow, sexy grin curved his full lips. An exciting thrill rushed through her at the sudden and unexpected urge to step outside into the darkness and let him kiss her under the stars.
Wow. She released a shuddering breath as her stomach cinched just from looking at him.
“Want a drink?”
“Hmm?”
Monty smacked her shoulder, ripping her away from her heated thoughts. She blinked up at him. “What?”
“I asked if you wanted a drink. But by the look on your face, maybe you’ve had a few already.”
Her cheeks burned as she elbowed him in the ribs. “Shut up.” She gathered her wits and walked away from him, making her way around the small counter they used for an open bar, made of hand-peeled logs from the property. Oddly enough, she chose Jack and Coke for her evening beverage. What she really needed was that wild encounter outside.
She drank the whole thing down in under a minute, ignoring the quizzical glance from Monty. As she poured a second, an intoxicating scent of vanilla and spice assaulted her senses.
“So we meet again.”
That voice did something to every tiny hair on her body. It rung smooth and deep like the narrator of a nature documentary—the kind with mating animals. Her heart thudded hard. When she looked up, Jamie knew it would be the mystery stud with a fake-sounding name. It had to be fake, or maybe she just watched too many suspense movies lately, having no cable out here.
“You’re not wet any more,” he murmured.
Is he talking dirty to me, or is he just being friendly? That sexy grin wreaked havoc on her nerves. She didn’t know how to respond. She’d had her flings in the past, but none of those men talked to her as if she should be petted and licked and plucked for hours. Or maybe she was too drunk or stoned back then to remember a man making her feel so flushed.
Now she saw him up close, and he had the kind of features that made women automatically feel good. His skin was light brown, his lips perfectly generous, framed by a thick and curly black beard. The tight black curls of his short hair spoke subtly of his mixed heritage as well. He had a sexy, hard-bodied look that could easily grace the cover of a sports magazine. His biceps practically ripped out of the sleeves of his blood-red T-shirt—the color accentuating his complexion as if a fashion guru had picked the shirt for that purpose.
Jamie sucked in a sharp breath. Her instant attraction could be sealed in an envelope. She blushed as his bold gaze swept over her. He studied her so intently it made a hot ache bloom between her legs. Embarrassed, she averted her gaze and looked back down at her drink as the corner of her mouth twitched. Maybe she should’ve made a double.
But she couldn’t help a flirty response of her own. As Jamie stirred her drink, she forced herself to look back up and reply, “Such a shame I’m not wet anymore.”
Her nerves skipped to life as he chuckled and eased against the counter on one elbow, his back facing the rest of the crowd. Apparently he didn’t care to be a part of the festivities. “Being wet is much more exciting than being dry.”
“It is.” That’s it? You can’t think of something better than that? She cleared her throat and tried to come up with something sexy to say, something to really grab him by the nuts, but her brain couldn’t think beyond gripping his collar and yanking him over the bar for a kiss. She seriously wanted to know how those lips would feel against hers. “Do you like to swim, Mr. Daniels?”
His hot gaze traveled down to her breasts, then back up. “Sometimes, but I prefer a steamy, naked sauna.”
Jesus Christ. Right to the point. “Well, you can use the sauna any time you’d like, naked or dressed.” She shrugged off her growing discomfort. “Whatever you’d like.”
“Whatever I’d like?”
Her wide gaze met his and held. Her panties were soaked. Her nipples were tight, and by the heat of his gaze as it lowered to her chest, she knew they must be noticeable. Jamie wanted nothing more than to have screaming, hot sex in the sauna with this man right now, but she couldn’t. They had rules here, and staff could not have flings with customers. Such a shame. She had a feeling he’d fuck her silly.
Jack seemed to catch on to her sudden withdraw, and gave a brief, almost disappointed nod. “So what should I do to pass the time? I’m getting a little bored of the old people in the room.”
She held her snort of laughter in check. “Not everyone is old.”
He looked over her body again, slowly, as if somebody had punched up the heat to a blistering degree. “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Thirty-one next month.”
His grin widened and she saw what that golden gleam was from earlier. The last time she’d seen a gold tooth was on a music video. But it suited Mr. Daniels to a T, in a sensual, reckless, I make my own rules, kind of way.
“You’re in your prime, then. That’s good,” he murmured.
Jamie’s eyes widened again. Apparently she couldn’t hide her shocked reaction to everything that came out of his mouth. He sure had a bold way with words. By rights the powder on her cheeks should melt they burned so hard. “How old are you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Thirty-nine last month.”
A warm sensation from the first drink—or maybe from the man in front of her—settled right between her legs. “I guess you’re in your prime, too,” she answered with as much sass as she could muster, and before she made a complete fool of herself, Jamie grabbed her glass and stepped around the bar. “Have a good evening, Mr. Daniels.” She left him standing there watching her, and went straight to Monty to pepper him with boring chat for the rest of the evening.
Breathe. Focus. Breathe. Stop creaming in your panties.
No man had ever been that brash with her before, and she’d never responded so easily like that either. She felt excited and nervous and more excited. Under the cover of her lashes, she watched as the sexy stranger poured himself a drink and returned to his seat. She stared, transfixed and soaking wet as her gaze swept over his backside. God, his body was built like Granite Island which was only a short boat ride away.
She looked away and chided herself. Since when did she react like a love swept dimwit to a man? Maybe it was the seven months spent in the grip of her vibrator that turned her into a desperate female. She hadn’t had a real man since Pete, and he was over a year ago.
“I’m going outside for a smoke. Want to come with me?”
Monty shook his head and laughed. “I just had one. I couldn’t bear to handle the corny steam at the bar a moment ago.” He plopped his arm across her shoulders, the weight of it pushing her down. “That’s exactly what you need though.”
Mortified by his obvious meaning, Jamie lifted the glass and took a sip before answering. “What are you talking about?”
He leaned down and whispered in a teasing tone, “I’m saying you should bang that guy. Hell, if I swung that way, I would. He’s pretty hot.”
Jamie was just taking another drink and choked on it. “You’re completely insane. Valerie would fire me, and you know it. I don’t even know him”—she looked around to make sure nobody heard their conversation—“and I’ve never fucked a stranger before.”
Monty pulled back and let out a loud bark of laughter. Valerie stopped talking, all heads turned toward them, and Jamie wanted to die. She stood there beside him, eyes wide, having no clue what to say.
Good thing Monty quickly corrected his sudden outburst and added, “Valerie always tells the best stories, doesn’t she?”
Even though Jamie and Monty had no idea what Valerie had been saying at the time, apparently the guests agreed with him. They all applauded the host and she basked in their attention.
Monty leaned down and whispered, “Remember that older woman last summer who had eyes for me?” Jamie nodded, curious yet unsure if she wanted to hear what crazy story he intended to brag about. “Let’s just say the pole struck bottom every single night she was here.”
Jamie blinked and stared up at him, knowing what he meant but not wanting to hear any more. He added, “What Val doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her, or anyone else. People fuck at work all the time.”
Monty straightened and stared out over the crowd, a knowing smile on his face. Jamie took the opportunity to escape for a smoke and get some much-needed fresh air. Maybe she should continue her little erotic sparring with Jack. It would definitely get her mind off of the bad things swirling in her head like a fatal disease. Just a few minutes to forget all that bad shit, please!
She discreetly moved back into the dim lamplight by the lodge entrance and stepped outside, gently closing the big wooden door behind her. The wind had picked up more since she left her cabin, but that didn’t stop her from heading down to the dock and appreciating the beauty of the darkness around her. A sliver of a moon reflected dancing crystals over the water. Waves lapped softly against the dock and the shoreline.
This was therapy right here. Sharp Ridge Lodge had a serenity yet thrill about it that she didn’t want to leave. Soon she would have no choice, just like the others. Everybody was bound to return to regular life.
The wind shifted and a familiar scent swept past her. She knew it was him from that spicy vanilla cologne. Knew it like the surety of the murky water beneath the dock.
She turned around. “Tired of the old people again, Jack?”
“Something like that.”
He was less than two feet away. She barely made out his features, and that was just fine for her. Nothing compared to the thrill and the mystery of the night.
She turned away from him and stared back out over the water. Every nerve jumped to life by his proximity. He was a stranger, and yet she couldn’t help her body’s response to his nearness. Until now she’d never believed in pure lust at first sight.
“Nothing compares to this, you know,” she said aloud.
He stepped closer, and she knew he was staring at her profile instead of the water. “Nope.”
Jamie swallowed. This was becoming hot and heavy right fast. She didn’t know this guy any more than her mailman in the city. Maybe he was just a player who’d bang any girl he met. Maybe she shouldn’t worry so much and just have fun, as long as she played safe. She didn’t really know what to do, or what to say to him. Sticking with idle chat seemed like the safest choice. “Why the open leaving date?”
A long moment passed before he answered. “It’s hard for me to plan time off with my schedule. I could leave next month, next week…who knows?”
Despite the humor in his tone, she suspected he told the truth, and that the rest of it wasn’t so simple. “Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it here, for however long that will be.”
“I’m sure I will.”
The sound of water lapping against the dock seemed to stretch on for long, awkward minutes. “So, how did you find out about Sharp Ridge?”
“I found a pamphlet for this place in a jacket pocket.”
She chuckled. “That sounds kind of strange, Jack. Did it fall out of some guy’s coat or something?”
He cleared his throat. “Something like that.”
Jamie jerked when he stepped closer and his shoulder brushed against hers. He was too close. Too much too soon. Her body screamed to touch him yet her mind shouted to behave at her place of work. “Well, I should head home. I have an early start. Have a good—”
“Do I scare you, Jamie?” He turned to her, his face expressionless in the dark. “I’m not a nutjob or anything. Just a man who happens to like what he sees.”
She swallowed. “I’m not afraid of you. Just…nervous.” How could she tell him she felt an immediate and thrilling attraction without sounding pathetic? She certainly wouldn’t tell him how long it had been since the last time she had sex. Somehow she knew a night under the sheets with him would be hot and sweaty and unforgettable.
“Being nervous is a good thing. It means you have passion for life.”
She didn’t know how to answer that other than a pitiful, “Maybe.”
When he leaned closer, she knew what he wanted. For the life of her she wouldn’t deny it, no matter how crazy it seemed. In a hot second his lips brushed over hers as his thumb skimmed softly under the curve of her jaw. Like the striking of a match, a flame flickered through her like fire through dry brush. It was as if they were meant to meet in this spot, on this dock, on this windy night.
Jamie felt weightless and heavy at the same time as he explored her, tasted her; made her thighs tremble and her hands shake at her sides. Wanting him closer, Jamie reached up and feathered her fingers through his tight curls. Her body formed against his as his hand snaked around her waist. He felt wonderful. His scent intoxicated her. The way he boldly held her made her feel weak and needy like the women in those corny romance novels.
Minutes ticked by as they moaned and ground against each other in the darkness. It was as if she had no control over herself, no thought of consequence as his hands curved over her bum, squeezing and gripping, pressing her harder against his erection.
They panted in unison. Their tongues sucked and swirled and mated.
“Jamie?”
Her eyes opened wide at the sound of Valerie’s voice calling out in the night. She stilled, pulled away from Jack, and glanced at the lodge. The boss woman hung out the door, probably needing her assistance for something, her body silhouetted by the interior lights behind her. Thank God Valerie couldn’t see them standing there in the dark.
The hard swell of Jack’s cock pressed hard and hot against her, a rampant reminder of what exactly transpired. She would’ve fucked him right there. Right on the dock without any protection, she was that desperate and horny. He hadn’t even spent a single night here yet and already the housekeeper would’ve rode him until the dock broke away from shore.
Embarrassed and beyond ashamed, Jamie pushed away and backed up. “I’m so sorry. I….” She clamped her lips shut, spun around, and ran up the dock steps to the second tier without looking back. How could she do that to herself? Did she have no control at all over her body? He must think her a total slut.
By the time she reached the lawn in front of the lodge, Valerie had already disappeared back inside. Hopefully she had forgotten about Jamie, or simply lost interest in finding her. Either way, Jamie was relieved that Valerie hadn’t seen what happened. Jamie glanced over her shoulder to see if Jack had followed, but only darkness surrounded her. Shaking hard and panting for air, she quickly composed herself and walked in, hoping to God she didn’t give away what she had almost done. Valerie would be furious.
“There you are. Outside smoking again?” Valerie asked, smiling like a Cheshire cat. She swayed on her feet, and Jamie realized she’d never seen her boss that drunk before. Maybe Monty had been right about her losing money, and that was a terrifying thought. A sudden chill that had nothing to do with the weather outside made her tremble. What if Jones sends somebody after me?
“Are you cold?” Monty asked, his voice laced with humor.
Jamie cleared her throat and forced a straight face. I wish my only problem was being cold. “Yeah. Sorry I took so long. I had my feet in the water.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” Valerie’s gaze seemed to be barely focused on Jamie’s shoulder.
Monty, standing behind Valerie yet towering over her, arched a high brow. “Did you fall onto the second tier of the dock? You look a little flushed and rumpled.”
Jamie avoided his probing stare, especially the teasing tone of his annoying voice, and focused on Valerie instead. “I’m fine, really.”
“But where’s Mr. Daniels? I saw him leave right after you,” Monty added and waggled his eyebrows.
Jamie glared at him, then turned her attention back to Valerie again. “I saw someone walking toward the guest quarters. I’m sure it was him.”
“Oh, he must be exhausted. That retail business will bring a man to an early grave,” Valerie slurred, completely clueless to the almost sex with a stranger that just happened on her dock.
“Yes. I’m sure you’re right.” Jamie patted Valerie’s shoulder. The poor woman was going to have a wicked hangover come morning. “Well, I’m calling it a night. See you bright and early.” Jamie glared at the grinning Monty and retreated back outside. When she returned to her cabin, she pulled out her vibrator from the nightstand and took him to bed. Within three minutes she shuddered hard on his buzzing shaft, her whole body tingling, vividly remembering the sensation of Jack’s stiff cock against her.
It was big.
As she drifted into a restless sleep, Jamie had a feeling that tonight wouldn’t be her last encounter with the mysterious Jack Daniels.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered in the darkness. “Tomorrow, I won’t be so afraid of you.”