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Jet black waves fall over chiseled features and dark eyes focus on me under brows that are drawn down as he scrutinizes me. The thick beard that covers the lower part of his face is long enough to brush the collar of a t-shirt that peeks out under a classic red plaid flannel shirt.
Maybe I should tell him my boyfriend is out gathering firewood or something but, honestly? My insides are screaming at me to make sure this guy knows I'm one hundred percent single.
"What's wrong with being out here alone?"
He shakes his head like he can't believe what he's hearing and shrugs the rucksack off his broad shoulders.
"This forest isn't safe for--"
"Women. Yeah, I know the story."
Checking the camera I've been working to secure into the tree, I decide it's good and pull another of the small cameras out of my pocket, heading toward another tree.
"It's no joke. Women have been going missing in the weeping wilderness for as long humans have inhabited the area. Why the hell would you risk coming up here alone if you know the history of the area?"
There was a period in history when several people-- supposedly all women-- went missing from this section of forest. The area was eventually abandoned, and the mountain pass road rerouted, due to the disappearances. For nearly a hundred years now, there's been almost no human traffic through this area based entirely on superstition; making it a perfect location for my project.
I have to laugh, he looks so serious, like he actually buys into the myths.
He's does not laugh with me.
His eyes narrow and deep crease forms between his brows. Under the mustache, I can see full lips set in a grim scowl.
"It's just folklore," I assure him, but he looks anything but reassured.
Glen
"What are you doing?"
The little songbird squawks when he sees me starting to set up my minimalist camp just a few feet from her own tent.
"If you're staying, so am I." I grumble at her while I string my camping hammock between a couple of trees.
My songbird turns out to be a curvy little siren, and she just might be calling me to my doom; because she's got me setting up camp in a place I swore I'd never stay another night in.
There's no way I'm going to let her stay here alone. I don't give a fuck if she believes in the legends surrounding these woods or not. Legends exist for a reason, and I've seen enough with my own eyes to know some of those reasons.
"How long are you going to stay?" She doesn't sound mad, exactly, but there's definitely a tone in her voice that suggests that having me camped so close to her is inconvenient.
Well, tough.
"As long as you are."
There's a good-sized rock that gives me a place to sit with a great view-- of the woods surrounding us, sure, but mostly of the luscious ass in the khaki cargo pants a few feet away from me as it flexes with her efforts to reach the lower branches of an old growth cedar.
"If you're staying, you're helping," she twists her torso so I get a look at those magnificent tits to go along with her round butt, not to mention the heart-shaped face with the pouty lips that have my mind full of obscene ideas.
I haven't even asked her what her name is, let alone why the hell she's stringing a bunch of cameras up in a haunted fucking forest, but I'm already obsessed.
"Sure thing," I stand up and yank at my pants, trying not make it obvious that what I'm really doing is relieving the pressure that's choking my dick since it insists on being ready to slip between those thick thighs of hers at a moment's notice.
"What am I helping you do, Sugar?"
Shit, what the fuck is wrong with me? I expect her to snap at me, give me a lecture about respect for giving her a pet name she didn't earn-- yet. She's just so fucking sweet, I can practically taste her already. I'll be happy to give her a chance to earn that pet name.
To my surprise, instead of shutting me down, her cheeks brighten with a rosy blush and she can't quite hide the twitch that fights to turn those pretty lips into a full smile.
Shit, if my dick was ready to claim her before, it's straining for the chance now.
