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Her mouth opens and shuts closed. Her gaze shifts cagily, but at least she’s alert.
And she lets me take care of her wounds. I’ve seen worse damage in the military but touching her lends itself to a new kind of discomfiture. Her body is lithe and supple. So warm, so soft, even coated in sweat and dirt. She’s a natural beauty that has my cock hard and burdensome, straining against my zipper.
Her curious eyes search my face as I try to focus my hands. Christ, the girl is every man’s wet dream. That’s scary, and irritating as shit. No makeup, no jewelry, no pricey clothing—don’t matter. There’s nothing I want more than to pull this nymph into my arms and devour her sensuous little heart-shaped mouth.
“You can tell me things, you know, anything. You’re safe,” I say earnestly. “You’re safe now.”
“What was that noise?” my little fox asks.
“Noise?”
“Bang, Bang!,” she whisper-yells. “And then all these colors”—making a broad sweeping movement with her hands—“flashing. They were like fires in the clouds.”
“You’ve never seen fireworks before?”
Her mouth forms the shape of an o. “So they were…real fires?”
I stand up, procuring a brochure for the annual Summer Starlight Star Bright Festival. I deliver it to her. She studies it for a long beat, her expression betraying zilch. What is my mysterious little fox thinking? She turns it over in her hands, then again.
“What’s your name, honey?”
“My name? It’s uh”—her gaze cuts surreptitiously to the brochure in her lap, and then she drags her eyes back up to my face. “Summer. My name is Summer.”
“Pleasure meeting you, Summer. I’m Boyd.”
“Allo, Boyd.” She smiles. That perfect, youthful smile does nothing at all to abate my lust. I smile back, holding her presence with mine. She’s not so vulnerable; there’s a quiet strength in her look that drills a hole into me and fills it up with mad respect. At the same time my protective hackles are fully roused.
Whoever the fuck is after her, they can eat shit. She’s my little fox now. Mine.
All fucking mine.
I have at least ninety more questions but they all have to wait. The last thing I need is to spook her and have her running away from me. That will not happen.
“Do you know where you’re sleeping tonight, Summer?”
“Here?” Her voice is small and desperate, a scrape of a sound.
“You can’t stay here, unfortunately, the lodge is full.”
“Lodge?”
“Another new word?”
Summer bites into her lip. Her eyes implore me and I can’t stop looking at them. They’re an ocean. I’m drowning in their depths and don’t want to be saved.
I debate letting her sleep here—on the couch in my office.
Consider it, but no. Hail no.
“You can sleep at my cabin for a night. Can take a shower there too.” I get an image of her fresh from one now, her wet brown hair dripping down the back of one of my T-shirts, the shape of her braless tits, her luscious legs sticking out of it. I can practically feel my fingers sliding up underneath the fabric, filling my hands with her round juicy tits.
My molars grind together and I swallow a fist-sized lump in my throat, banishing that particular mental image I can return to later, alone, my thick cock buried inside my fist.
“Now?”
I chuckle but it comes out gruff, coarse-sounding. “Gimme a sec.”
I tie up the bare minimum of loose ends around here then lead her outside to my Harley parked at the far end of the lot. I put the helmet on her. She’s cute as fuck in it. I help her get on. Her sumptuous bottom flashes at me and I grit my teeth.
I straddle my bike, enjoying the purring between my legs as Summer circles her arms around my middle, holding onto me tight for dear life.
