Wicked Demons (2 page)

“I was taking a walk, not wandering.” As they
turned with the bend in the road, Michael pointed. “There’s my
campsite.”

The dusty gravel circle in the middle of
nowhere had a one-man tent, an old Ford, a fallen tree he’d been
using as a chair, a modest fire pit, and a small stream that
babbled and blubbed into the darkness.

“Now let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“Excuse you?” Andi gasped. “What did you just
say?”

“You’re covered in mud. We can wash them in
the stream.”

“Is this the part where you offer to let me
borrow your clothes and then take advantage of me?”

Michael liked her attitude. He found her
peculiar and alluring.

Crossing that unspoken boundary of personal
space, a flush rushed through Andi’s complexion as his cheek swept
the side of her wispy locks.

“Why would I do that? I don’t want to take
your clothes off twice.”

She could have moved. Could have screamed.
Could have done something.

Shouldn’t I do something?

Do me
, a strange voice echoed in the
far recesses of her mind.

Pretending that she wasn’t losing her mind,
Andi asked, “So where’s that phone?”

“Here.” Michael jogged to his truck and
reached through the open window, grabbing a black smart phone off
the seat. Jogging back, he held it out to her. “See, ‘Experiment
Number Nine’ comes prepared.”

“Thanks.” The moment the weight of the phone
reached her palm, she froze. Who was she going to call? Her
coworker’s number was in her contact list. She didn’t know it by
memory. And her sister would have to drag the kids out of bed to
pick her up.

Sensing her malaise, Michael offered, “I
don’t mind driving you home. The pickup isn’t pretty, but it does
the job.”

Sighing, Andi forced a smile that never made
it to the creases of her eyes and shook her head. “It’s
just…everyone I know is busy. I’ll just call a tow truck. I still
need my car and you can’t help with that.”

“I guess not.”

After the nice man on the phone said that he
would get there when he got there, Andi returned the phone—useless
as it had been—and sat on the fallen tree trunk.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes! Thank you. What do you have?” Andi was
starving and the walk left her feeling completely deflated.

“Fresh deer meat.”

Her face paled. “I’m vegan.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she asserted. “I don’t exploit fellow
animals.”

Trying his best to maintain a straight face,
Michael mused, “I always thought I’d meet The Tooth Fairy or Big
Foot before I’d find myself in the company of a vegan.”

Not following suit, Andi refused to laugh or
smile. “You can make fun of me, but I am what I am.” She was used
to the persecution.

Michael suddenly lost his humor. “Aren’t we
all?” Lifting a bowl from a red cooler, he pulled back the
cellophane and handed it to Andi.

“I won’t eat it,” she balked.

“It’s fruit.” He held it out so she could see
pieces of diced watermelon and cantaloupe mixed with red grapes.
“Take it.”

“Thank you.” She almost felt like
apologizing, but didn’t.

Michael sat down beside her and broke the bad
news. “I don’t think the tow is coming tonight.”

“What makes you say that?”

He shrugged, taking a moment to search the
stars. Such a long distance their light traveled. And why? Nobody
needed
a star. Technology and electricity had rendered them
useless. Most people didn’t even bother learning the constellations
anymore. A GPS was the way to go. And yet…nothing could replace
their brilliance. The chilly fall air wouldn’t be the same without
a halo of stars.

Remembering Andi’s question, he returned his
attention to her lean face, watching her catch a drip of watermelon
juice with her palm as it ran down her chin.

“They don’t like coming all the way out here.
And you made the mistake of telling him that you weren’t
stranded.”

“But I am.”

“No, you said you were at my campsite.”

“That’s stranded.”

“But not lost. Not helpless. Not alone.”

“Do I need to call back and tell him that
‘Experiment Number Nine’ is acting creepy again?”

He did laugh, then. “Sorry. I don’t mean to
be. And not to make it worse, but you really do need to get out of
those clothes.”

The grungy clothes had started to harden over
her body like a chocolate shell. Andi was enjoying the act of not
starving so much she’d forgotten entirely about her dire
appearance.

“My blouse did start the day off white.”

They stood at the same moment, awkwardly
trying not to bump into one another. With a budding smile curling
one side of his mouth, Michael ordered, “Put the bowl down and step
away from the fruit, Ma’am.”

“Yes, Sir,” she bantered back.

Michael started to turn, but Andi chastised
him.

“It’s not like we’re under the bleachers
ditching gym and you’re about to see a boobie for the first time.
We’re both adults.”
And I do a lot of pilates
, she finished
in her mind.

“I just thought-“

“Well don’t think on my behalf.”

He liked her assertive mannerism. Something
about it encouraged him to push for more.

“You do nothing but make me think.”

Her blouse hung partially open as she met his
eager expression with doubt. “About what? Sex? Dates? Blow jobs?
None, of which, are very original,” she spat, fiddling with the
caught zipper on the back of her skirt.

Stalking straight towards her, Andi sucked in
a sharp breathe as his developed arms wrapped around her torso.
Freeing the catch in her zipper, the sound it made as he pulled it
down slowly taunted her.

He took a deep breath, filling his senses
with her pomegranate shampoo and fresh face wash, confessing into
her loose hair, “I think about those things. The way your skin
might taste against my tongue. The position you most want me to
take you in. How you would feel around me, silky and warm.” The
zipper met material and Michael’s hands slid between her skirt and
undies. The black pencil skirt dropped to the ground. His hands
cupped her curvy backside. Burying his face to her neck, he
continued, “But I also watch the way you chew your food and listen
to the cheer you’ve practiced so much to mask a melancholy just
below the surface. I think about what causes it. I wonder who’s
really lurking in there as you tell me off every chance you get.
And I like thinking about every part of you, from your dewy, muddy
flesh to the heart hiding within. Should I stop?”

Andi was struck mute. No one had ever talked
to her like that, so open and bare, driven by such need.

“I…” Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I
think you’ve been out here by yourself too long.” Oh God, that
wasn’t at all what she wanted to say.

He laughed into her neck. She wanted to say
more, but the feel of his lips brushing in a rhythm from the base
of her neck to just this side of her ear threatened to drive every
ounce of common sense right out of her foggy head.

Before she could respond in any way, his hand
snaked up and unhooked her bra. Michael pressed against her, the
mud ruining his shirt, though he hadn’t a care.

“You’re lost in the woods with a madman,” he
whispered. “Take advantage of me.”

Daring to speak, even as she wondered if she
still could, Andi shook her head. “You said it yourself. I’m not
lost. And I don’t know you.”

“You know I want you.”

His hand, still under her blouse, played with
the teardrop shape of her breast, running a rough finger back and
forth like a pendulum. Her body tightened.

“You don’t know much about women, do you?”
She shook her head.

“I want to know
you
. I want to know
what your hard nipple feels like between my lips. I want to know
what makes you scream my name.”

Bordering on fantasy and nightmare, Andi
withdrew from his charms.

“You’re right; you are mad.”

Standing his ground, not risking the chance
of scaring her off, his lip curled into a half-smile. “Want to know
what that feels like? To be mad, without a second thought to the
world. To not care what people think. Give in to your impulses.
Walk on the dark side.”

“Or what? Are you even giving me a choice or
am I going to have to teach you a lesson?”

Michael dropped to his knees in front of her,
reaching outward, palms up. “Never. If anything, teach me of
love.”

Andi wanted to discount his efforts, but they
felt so sincere. “You are so odd,” she muttered. Inhaling one final
breath of courage, she released all doubt, eliminated the space
between them, and grabbed his shirt, sliding it over his head and
arms. “Okay,” was all she said before their lips collided, ending
the standoff.

A heat ignited so strong she could have sworn
her flesh was in danger of melting. Her entire body vibrated and
hummed with a delicious awakening of lust. It was unreal. Never had
Andi experienced a physical reaction so strong to a kiss. Just a
kiss.

His hands caused goosebumps across her flesh.
In a matter of seconds, she was picking up each foot as Michael
pulled her underwear off.

Is this a dream?
She thought.

This is my undoing
, the strange voice
replied in her head.

Rather than stand, Michael pulled her down to
his level, forcing her to straddle his lap. And when she felt him
hard for her, even through the material of his pants, she gave in
to the lust, letting it ride her like she was about to ride
him.

Her hands fiddled with his pant zipper for a
second before the material surrendered. It would have been easier
if he hadn’t been grinding on her and biting the tender area at the
curve of her neck.

Lifting to his knees, Andi slid his pants to
his thighs as his hands held a firm grip on her ass, not letting
her go for any reason.

He was warm and large, pressing against her
silky skin. Parting her legs farther, he brushed himself in a
tender motion between her folds. It was that pendulum rhythm again.
Time was an empty concept as his tip glided over each intimate
centimeter of pink flesh.

Michael wanted to tantalize her until she
could stand no more, until she screamed for him to fill her, but it
was he who had to stop the torture. He couldn’t wait a moment
longer. As if reading his mind, Andi grabbed his ass and forced him
inside her, stretched around him, tight and warm.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” she asked,
voice coarse with desire.

The question shocked him. He would have to
rethink his first impression of Andi. She was a woman of many
dimensions, yes. That he gathered. But he suspected her levels of
need were untapped.

He hoped.

The mud from Andi’s shirt was everywhere. It
camouflaged Michael’s chest and biceps. She enjoyed the feel of it
between them and the way it left her handprints across his body
like an art canvas.

An archaic rhythm formed. She pumped her body
back and forth over his. Sweat laced Michael’s brow at the sight of
her riding him. God, there was a force about her that was
unstoppable.

The intensity almost crescendoed, tipping
them both, until Michael turned the tables.

Pinning her to the fallen tree with little
effort, he slid her blouse down her arms, twisting the material
until it bound her wrists behind her back. The moon lit her full
breasts. Watching them jiggle from the wake he created with his
thighs between hers made him even harder, if that were
possible.

Andi’s hips circled and rocked, experimenting
with the way the movements drove Michael inside her. Rocking to the
side, it felt like his staff brushed the length of her insides.
Sliding forward drove him to her darkest depths until she felt the
pressure in her belly. And pulling him out, just allowing his tip a
frenzied entry and exit created a light flutter of pressure,
accompanied by a growing want.

Their breathing was ragged, laboring ever
faster. When her moans filled the surrounding woods, Michael pinned
her to the log, ramming her harder and harder until their flesh on
flesh created a repetitive
slapping
noise.

Andi’s back bowed forward, partly from their
hands at the base of her spine and partly from spasms beginning to
wrack her body to her core. She cried out when Michael stood,
holding her between his arms, and impaled her one last time.
Slumping forward, her breasts spilling onto his chest, she closed
her eyes and focused on the way her muscles squeezed him, cradled
him.

“We need a shower,” she mumbled.

They washed in the icy stream as fast as
humanly possible. Andi opted to spot clean her clothes as best she
could rather than fully submerge them, and then hung them on a
makeshift clothesline by the truck.

The fire had died in the meantime, so it
didn’t take much coaxing to get her nuzzled into the undersized
tent.

“Is this okay?” Michael dared ask.

“No, this is completely bizarre.” Andi hugged
her half of the sleeping bag to her body.

“But you like it. You’re relaxed.”

She was. Shagging a complete stranger in the
woods and then sharing a sleeping bag with him should have been
awkward. Though, as she snuggled into the soft cotton, her leg
brushing his in the secretive depths of the sleeping bag, something
actually felt…right. But damn if she was going to admit something
so personal.

“Of course I’m relaxed. I’m always relaxed
after sex.”

Leave it to Andi to ruin the moment. No
wonder Kirk From the Second Floor bolted right into the arms of Amy
From Reception.

Michael let it go. Instead, he focused on
running his fingers up her leg, from the back of her knee to the
inside of her thigh.