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I cut Indigo off before she can finish her intro speech, grab the check-in paperwork, and head out the front door a lot faster than I came through it. The journey from my Beamer to my room is mercifully short, although I’m not thrilled to be staying so close to the epicenter of this “quiet mountainside retreat.”

I send up a tiny prayer of thanks that at least the room delivers. It’s all as advertised—clean, cozy, and spacious. After a quick tour of the room’s amenities, I peek out the window to see what or who is making the noise. A stream of apparently eager “residents” are filing into the main building. Yoga pants and head bands seem to be the uniform. I stare down at my outfit—torn jeans, a tight V-neck, and a pair of well-loved Chucks.

Decidedly out of my element, I grab my key and the map of the property that I’d all but torn out of Indigo’s hand and head out. I walk briskly past the small crowd and keep moving until they are only a quiet murmur of activity behind me.

The landscape here is different than anything I’m used to. I’d been an East Coast girl all my life, always working on my career, and—once we came out west—his career, so I rarely made it to the more scenic places in California.

As I follow a wide, worn path that weaves into denser areas, my thoughts are loud. Doubt. Regret. Hopelessness. They shout and cling to me. If I walked into that orientation right now, I’d be wearing it all over me. I’d be a beacon of not belonging. That lost woman whose husband left her because she wasn’t the quintessential arm candy he needed her to be. The rejection and the pain feel like a big, ugly tattoo that no amount of time will ever be able to wear off.

I push myself farther, vaguely noting the incline and the fine sheen of perspiration that beads on my skin as I go. Maybe Avalon Springs isn’t the haven I truly need. But I’ve come this far…

Tears burn behind my eyes because I’m alone. So utterly alone.

Clusters of pines hug the trail. Above the treetops, the sky is a majestic shade of purple. My thoughts quiet enough for me to realize that despite being well away from the retreat center now, night is coming on and I have no idea where I am or where I’m going. But the faint sound of water lures me forward.

Beyond the trees is a clearing, a well of water at its center. Despite the cooler temperature at this elevation, steam swirls off the vibrant turquoise pool. I scale a smooth, round rock and test the temperature of the water with my fingertips. Perfect, like a freshly drawn bath.

This must be the Avalon Springs. The retreat’s namesake promises healing properties from the mineral deposits that run off the nearby mountains. Rivulets of water trail off higher rocks and down into nature’s most perfect bath tub.

After taking a quick glance around, I act. I strip my clothes and dip my naked toes into the water. Then, with care, I submerge my body. I let my head slip underwater, and my hair swirls like a thousand strands of silk around my bare shoulders. I groan with relief and bubbles float through the clear water to the surface. I take turns swimming and sinking my whole body deep into the water. The heat and the water, being unburdened of my clothes and all those heavy thoughts… Nothing has ever felt so good.

My toes find the bottom, and I launch myself back to the surface when I need air. After a while I wade to a place where I can easily stand. My breasts hover just above the surface of the water. I pull myself onto a wide, flat rock that frames the pool and lie on it, unbothered that it’s both hard and cool against my skin. I’m warm and relaxed from my swim in the springs.

I close my eyes, enjoying the simple sounds of water and birds and the isolation that I’d hiked all this way to find. I skim my hands over my skin, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I notice a faint pulse between my thighs. God, I’m strung so tight lately. So in need of release. Encouraged that my body is still paying attention to some of my basic needs, I touch and tease myself to a higher point of arousal.

Getting close, I spread my thighs and dip a finger into my pussy while the other plays my clit like a record. Minutes pass as I deftly manipulate the places that ache for the attention of a man. And not just any man. One who won’t break me all over again. I don’t have one of those, so for now, my touch will have to do.

My breathing ticks up with my pace. I’ve brought myself to this point a thousand times. I know just what to do. More times than not, though, the act leaves me feeling empty. Physically satisfied, but never emotionally. I don’t care. After the five-hour drive from the city, I need a release. I curve my fingers deeper into my pussy and graze the tips rhythmically across the rough pad of skin inside. The soft head of a man’s engorged cock would feel better there, but whatever.

I lick my lips and imagine a man is pleasing me right now. Thick and brawny, passion in his eyes, he’s filling me with every inch of his silky cock. He’s telling me I’m beautiful, that I feel better than anyone he’s ever had. He’s grazing over that magic spot, over…and over…and…

With a sharp inhale, I bow off the rock, so close, so ready. My heels and shoulder blades press hard against the rock. I release a cry that’s half arousal and half frustration, because the orgasm is just beyond reach.

I open my eyes. Stars puncture the navy sky with tiny pinpricks of light. I glance back to the trail and push down a flash of worry that I might not be able to find my way back.

Then I see him through the tre

es. And I scream.

LUKE

I’m not sure what possessed me to stop and watch her. She’d been loud enough marching up the path. Another city girl passing through the retreat at the base of the mountain, no doubt. I’d come here tonight to enjoy the springs because Saturday is their turnover day and the new residents rarely venture up past sunset.

But the second this woman’s clothes hit the ground, I couldn’t move. I should have made my way back to my cabin up the mountainside, but instead I watched her swim and float like a goddess through the water. She had long brown hair that clung in a straight slick v down her back when she rose above the water, revealing possibly the most perfect set of breasts I’d ever seen on a woman.

And then, with only a little guilt, I watched her slide up on that rock and plunge her slender fingers into her pussy until her cries echoed off the rocks and rendered the forest and my breathing silent. Now I’m hard, in absolutely no condition to comfortably return home. And I can’t in good conscience leave her up here as night quickly falls around us.

When our eyes lock, she screams and slips back into the water to hide her nakedness. I adjust myself enough to disguise how her little display has affected me and walk closer.

“Who are you?” Her voice is shaky with panic. She stares at me wide-eyed, probably contemplating if I’m going to do her any harm.

At this hour, this far from the retreat, she is wise to worry. Nothing could protect her from someone of my size and skillset if I had malicious intentions.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I offer gently, hoping to ease her fears. “You’re out here pretty late. Do you know your way back?”

She folds her arms over her chest, even though I can’t see anything under the water anyway.

“I have a map.”

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