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I clear my throat and set her back on her feet then take a step back, doing my best to imagine a cold shower or anything else that might keep me from getting a full hard-on in front of her. That’s not an image I want this group to have seared into their minds. I can only imagine the stories that would make the rounds on social media followed by the inevitable lawsuits filed for the mental distress some of these people would undoubtedly feel by seeing me with a hard-on. The money from those lawsuits—which my attorney would, of course, settle out of court—would then, just as undoubtedly, go right up their noses or into their veins.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
She pats her hair down and nods then hitches her backpack up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for keeping me from cracking my head open.”
“Of course,” I say then turn to the rest of the small group. “Let’s push on. And for the love of Christ, watch your step out here, people. The last thing I want to do is have to carry your busted ass back to the compound.”
I say it in a teasing tone and get a laugh out of the group—even Barnes. Jordan’s cheeks flush again as she smiles, and I feel my body shudder as I recall the way her body, so firm and yet so soft, felt pressed to mine. I fall into line behind the group and can’t keep my eyes off Jordan’s round, perky ass, enjoying the way it strains and moves against her shorts as she walks. As if she can feel my eyes on her, she looks over her shoulder and I see her eyes widen slightly before she snaps her head forward again. I laugh softly to myself but can’t stop staring at it anyway.
The lead of my group has rounded a bend in the trail when I hear raised voices. Stepping off the trail, I race around the bend and find Barnes locked up with a guy about the same age as him. The newcomer has dark hair and eyes and is physically fit. He looks like an athlete—unlike Barnes—and I watch as he drives a fist into his gut. Barnes grunts as the air is driven from his lungs and goes down in a heap, curling into the fetal position as he gasps for breath. His mouth is opening and closing rapidly, making him look like a fish pulled out of thrown onto a dock.
I step around the group and put myself between the dark-haired guy and Barnes. Behind him is a cabin that looks newly built and half a dozen other guys who look like the one I’m squared off with. They’re all wearing t-shirts or hats bearing Greek letters, which tell me they’re frat boys. Great. Just what I fucking need. The woods out this way have slowly been getting more crowded as rich folk, looking for some peace and solitude away from the city, have been building havens out here. Unfortunately for us, they sometimes let their spoiled, obnoxious little pricks use those havens for their frat parties.
“Somebody get Barnes on his feet,” I call to my group without looking back, my eyes still firmly fixed on the guy standing before me.
“He asked for it,” the guy said. “He’s a mouthy little asshole.”
“Yeah, he is. But that doesn’t give you the right to lay hands on him.”
“The hell it doesn’t—”
“Then I guess I have every right to knock you the fuck out since you’re a mouthy little prick too, don’t I?” I growl.
I hear shuffling behind me as the rest of the group gets Barnes to his feet. The air around us though is quiet otherwise and is crackling with tension and the whispered promise of violence that drifts upon the air. The frat boys are cocky and are posturing like tough guys, not wanting to appear weak in front of my group. The guy in front of me gives me a lopsided grin and takes a step back.
“Look, man, we didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he says. “Just keep your people off my property and we’re good.”
“This path isn’t your property. Your property ends at your fence,” I say, pointing to the white picket fence that surrounds the cabin.
“Look, he popped off, I wasn’t—”
"Let me make this clear for you, bro," I say. "You see any of my people coming, you steer clear of them. You don't approach them. You don't talk to them. And if I see you putting your hands on any more of them, I'm going to beat your ass. Do you understand?"
“You lay a finger on me, and my parents will sue your ass—”
“I can afford it. And it’ll be worth every goddamn penny to beat you so bad, you cry in front of your boys there,” I growl. “Are we clear?”
The cockiness fades from his face and for the first time, I see real fear in his eyes. Good. That’s good. That’s exactly what I want him to be feeling right now. I want him to fear me. His eyes cut to his boys, and he licks his lips nervously. He’s the ringleader of this little circus and he doesn’t want to lose face in front of them. But faced with a real ass beating from somebody bigger and meaner than him, he can’t help but start to quiver like the little coward he is.
“I said, are we clear?” I press.
“Dude, relax,” he says, trying to regain some of his swagger. “It’s cool. No need to get all worked up about something this dumb. Just keep your people in line and it’s all good.”
I continue to stare at him, my teeth gritted so tight, I could probably crush stone. He swallows hard, still nervous. I finally turn to Barnes.
“Get moving,” I say. “Keep heading down the trail.”
Barnes opens his mouth like he’s about to object so I glare at him, and he instantly shuts his mouth and takes a shuffling step back.
“I said now. Get moving. We’re not done out here yet,” I say.
My group gets moving again and I turn to see one of the frat boys standing close to Jordan, chatting her up. He’s got a smarmy smile on his face and when he puts his hand on her shoulder, she recoils, a look of pure disgust on her face. But then he reaches out and grabs her again, harder this time, and her disgust turns to fear. My blood boiling, furious that this punk would dare lay a hand on what’s mine, I bolt over and quickly insert myself between them, breaking his grip on her shoulder. He stumbles back a step, startled by my sudden appearance.
“What the fuck, man?” he shouts, trying to recover his swagger.
“I just told you little shits that you’re not to lay a finger on any of my people, didn’t I?”
He cuts his eyes left and right, not wanting to back down in front of his boys, but I can see the fear in his eyes. These frat idiots are all the same. They’re all more concerned with what their bros are going to think of them than they are in not getting their asses beat.
