Alphas in the Wild (39 page)

“’Fraid I lured you in here under false pretenses,” he murmured. “You can get all the sleep in the world, but not until after I’ve undressed you and made love to you properly.”

She gazed at him in the flickering stove light. “What we did by the river was proper. Hell, it was damned hot.”

“Yeah, it was all those things, but I want to look at all of you at the same time.”

Sara wanted to look at him too. Not just glimpses of him in form fitting long underwear as he slipped into his sleeping bag. “Two can play that game.” She unzipped his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Next came his vest and stretchy top. She traced the line of his nipples with their sprinkle of tawny hairs around them.

“Pretty man.”

“Not as pretty as you.” His breath hitched, and he pulled off her jacket and two layers of tops. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and he filled his hands with her breasts while a feral, possessive sound flowed from deep in his throat.

She arched into his touch and undid her pants, pushing them down her hips and freeing her legs.

“Hey,” he protested. “That’s my job.”

“What about being partners?” She grinned impishly and unfastened his belt and the button and zipper holding his pants in place.

He let go of her breasts long enough to stand and step out of his pants after they pooled around his feet. His shorts followed.

Sara let her gaze linger over the hard planes of his body. He was lean with muscled shoulders, arms, thighs, and calves. His cock rose from a mat of copper curls between his legs, a drop of semen glistening on its tip.

“Not just pretty.” Her throat was dry with needing him. “Gorgeous. I could look at you forever and die a happy woman.”

“Keep talking, sweetheart. I’m not cheap, but I can be bought.”

“Get down here.”

“Your wish is my command.”

He lay next to her and wove his hands into her hair before he kissed her. Feeling him next to her naked, skin-to-skin, was electrifying. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait. Never mind they’d just made love a few hours ago. Throwing a leg over his hip, she opened herself and reached to guide him inside her.

He thrust hard, sinking himself to the hilt, and she squirmed at the delicious sensations cascading through her. With his lips still glued to hers and her breasts squashed against his chest, she rocked against the cock buried in her sensitive places. When he reached between her legs and teased her swollen nub, she came, bucking and shrieking against him.

He turned her until she was beneath him and drove into her, his gaze never leaving hers. Color highlighted his chest and face, and his nipples were hard buds.

“Yes. Oh God yes, now. Come with me, Sara darling.” He ground his pubes against her clit and held it there as his cock shuddered inside her.

The spasms of his release shot her over the edge a second time, and she clung to him, wanting nothing more than the man in her arms and for the moment to last forever.

“That was even better than the first time.” His voice rumbled against her hair, and he kneaded her back with strong fingers.

“Flattery will get you—”

“All it needs to get me is more of the same. I’m falling in love with you sweetheart.” He smoothed hairs away from her face. “Sleep. Tomorrow’s soon enough to face whatever’s left of the world.”

“World aside, I’m falling in love with you too. It’s hard to believe, though.”

“For me too, so we’ll just have to write the script as we go.”

“Sounds good to me.” She smiled and he grinned back.

Trusting, really trusting, another person for the first time in a long time, Sara relaxed in his arms. They’d face whatever they had to together. It felt right in a way nothing had in years. With her heart full of hope for their future, she dozed against him.

“One more thing.” His voice roused her.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s no pressing reason for either of us to go back right away, maybe you and Jake could walk out to Whitney Portal with me.”

A giggle started deep in her chest. Minutes later, it turned into a full-blown laugh. “You want to finish the Muir Trail. After everything that’s happened, you still want to finish the trail.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

She nodded. “Of course. I understand perfectly. The logistics are wonky since we can’t leave the chopper in here all winter, but we’ll figure something out. Maybe we could fastpack up to Trail Crest, snag Whitney’s summit, and then return to LeConte.”

“There’s my girl.” He kissed her eyelids and mouth just before they both fell asleep.

The End

––––––––

A
bout the Author:

Ann Gimpel is a national bestselling author. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. Once upon a time, she nurtured clients, now she nurtures dark, gritty fantasy stories that push hard against reality. When she’s not writing, she’s in the backcountry getting down and dirty with her camera. She’s published over 30 books to date, with several more planned for 2015 and beyond. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.

Keep up with her at
www.anngimpel.com
or
http://anngimpel.blogspot.com

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If you enjoyed my backcountry adventure romance stories, you might like
Winning Glory
. It’s the first of three action adventure romances with a scifi edge in the GenTech Rebellion Series. Eventually, there will be two more to finish out that series. Read on for a description and sample.

Book Description for Winning Glory:

After years as a black ops CIA agent, nothing surprises Roy Kincaid, yet his current assignment is close to a bust. How could his target—renegade genetic freaks—drop off the radar as if they never existed? Burnt out and discouraged, he hunches over a meal in a backwater diner when a half-frozen woman with the look of an abused runaway staggers through the door. On his feet in an instant, Roy kicks himself. His first instinct is to help her, make certain she stays long enough for the bluish cast to leave her lips. His second is to finish his meal and leave. The world is full of broken women. It’s not his job to fix them, but he can’t take his eyes off her. 

Glory’s telepathic ability blares a harsh warning. Roy hunts those like her, but damn if he didn’t buy her dinner. Maybe she can fool him, just for tonight. Add a dry motel room to the meal. If she plays it very cool, he’ll never find out she’s on the run from the same group he’s targeted for death.

Enhanced genetics only go so far. A roadblock and her face on a 
Most Wanted
 flyer shatter her fragile truce with Roy. If her Handlers find her, they’ll kill her. If Roy finds out what she is, she’ll be worse than dead. 

Series Backstory:

Sometime between the interminable wars in the Middle East and 9/11, the United States moved forward breeding a race of super humans. Clandestine labs formed, armed with eager scientists who’d always yearned to manipulate human DNA. At first the clones looked promising, growing to fighting size in as little as a dozen years, but V1 had design flaws.

Seven years ago, a rogue group turned on their creators, blew up the lab, and hit all the other breeding farms, freeing whomever they could find. In the intervening time, they’ve retreated to hidden compounds and created a society run by men. Women are kept on a tight leash because the men fear if they discover their innate power, they’d launch their own rebellion.

Chapter One

Shadows surrounded Glory. The darkness provided some shielding, but she wanted more—lots more. Too bad invisibility wasn’t an option. Her pulse thudded against her eardrums. Sweat formed a banner across her forehead and dripped into her eyes. They stung, and she cursed her human genetic base. When she’d been designed, why the hell hadn’t they deep-sixed the annoying things like sweat and fear?

“Get moving!”
Her Handler’s voice pounded through her head, projected telepathically.

She started. In the midst of her ambivalence, she’d forgotten about the Handlers—also called Nameless Ones—lurking just outside her work area. This was her first real assignment, and they didn’t trust her by herself. She blew out a wry breath. They’d probably never trust her, but she was useful.

A low growl followed the Handler’s terse words. She scowled as the noise scraped across her preternaturally sharp senses. Glory wanted to balk, make a break for freedom, but it’d be pointless. They’d be on her so fast, she’d be lucky to buy herself an hour.

She gazed straight ahead, assessing her objective. The large office building in downtown Seattle’s business district wasn’t as deserted as she’d hoped. Lights shone from about a quarter of its windows. If she were fortunate, her target would be unoccupied, but she knew what to say if it wasn’t.

No, I know what to do...
Talking wasn’t exactly on the table.

She sucked in a ragged breath, blew it out, and did it again. Her hair was pulled into a bun, its weight heavy on her neck, but at least it wouldn’t come loose and obscure her vision if she had to move quickly.

The growl came again, and she shot forward, trying to walk as if she had every right to be on Pine Street at eleven at night. Unfamiliar high heels lent her an awkward rolling gait, and she pulled her skirt a little higher, so she could adjust her stride. When she’d complained about the black wool business suit and heels, she’d been told she had to look the part if she ran into anyone. She’d have practiced walking in the unfamiliar shoes, but the entire outfit had materialized—dropped in her dorm by a Handler—half an hour before she left her compound.

She fumbled a key card from her suit pocket with damp fingers and swiped it through a reader next to huge, double glass doors that opened onto a lavishly furnished lobby. Pink, white, and purple orchids, plush leather furniture, and glistening gray marble floors felt overwhelming after her spartan existence.  After a pause that felt far too long, the scanner’s red lights shifted to green, and the door’s locking mechanism snicked softly.

Glory darted forward and felt a rush of air as the door swooshed shut behind her. She’d have to use the card to get out too, so she glanced sidelong to identify the reader’s location on the lobby side. For long moments, she didn’t see a thing, and her already rapid heart rate escalated, making her dizzy.

Doesn’t matter. Head for the elevators. I can turn and look better from there.

A creaky grating stopped her cold, until an older, dark-skinned man dressed in a navy blue uniform came into view. He pushed a wheeled bucket with a mop sticking out of it. “Evening, ma’am.” He dipped his chin toward her. “Late to be working, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “I, uh, I forgot something I needed.”

He nodded back. “Always something, eh?” His smile displayed several missing teeth; grizzled gray hair lay flat against his head.

Because she was too keyed up to talk, and finding words was hard, she trotted toward the elevator, nearly twisting an ankle in the process from her sleek, black pumps. She still had the electronic card in hand. The Nameless Ones had done reconnaissance and funneled needed data into her processing unit. It was how she knew she’d need the key card to call the elevator after hours—and everything else about this assignment.

She swiped the card and pushed the up button. Somewhere above her, machinery whirred. She wanted to look back at the front door, but self-preservation and not attracting attention trumped everything.

The housekeeper whistled as he drew his mop across the shiny floor. She listened, trying to make out the tune, but it wasn’t familiar. The elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside, turning as she did to catch a glimpse of the electronic scanner that had to be near the front door.

Breath rattled from her constricted lungs. There it was. About a foot to the right of the door, which was why she hadn’t noticed it before. Excellent. Her egress—assuming she made it that far—would be smooth, rather than awkward. It’d look suspicious if she had no idea how to exit the building. Floors whooshed past, and she got out on the fourteenth. Squaring her shoulders, she took advantage of her almost six-foot height to project the illusion she belonged here, in the center of corporate America late at night.

This building in the heart of Seattle was as close to the Silicon Valley as the Northwest got. Many major hardware and software manufacturers had offices here, but she was only focused on one of them—Dynamic Solutions. DS was deeply involved in government contracting for classified genetic research. The Handlers told her that much, but nothing further, and she’d known better than to ask.

Her heels beat a staccato on green-veined, creamy marble as she made her way to the end of the hall. She traded the key card still clutched in her sweaty hand for a different one, swiped it, and slipped on transparent latex gloves before letting herself into a mercifully dark suite of offices.

Get what I came for and leave,
ran through her mind like a mantra. The cleanup person had seen her, but he wouldn’t be a problem, not so long as everything else went smoothly. Her heart still beat too fast, and she was sweating despite the cool November evening and the sixty degree temperature in the building, but so far so good.

The office layout was exactly what she’d seen in schematics. She strode purposively toward a corner office. The door was shut and she twisted the latch.

It didn’t turn.

Goddammit! Locked. What do I do now?
A perverse part of her thrilled because the Nameless Ones’ intel had flaws. She hated them so much, any evidence of their weakness meant maybe she could escape someday.

Her practical side intruded, and she looked for a keycard slot in the door. Picking locks was easy; it wouldn’t slow her down much. When she didn’t find one, she hunted for an electronic device and groaned when she saw a retinal scanner. She could defeat it, but she needed permission to break protocol, plus she didn’t want to kick off the building’s alarm system if there was a way around it.