Callie's Captors [Mountain Men(9)

“I guess fear put a little extra speed into me.” What did it matter, anyway?

Mr. Shaved Head went into a crouch, showing off the muscles in his arms as he rested them on his knees. Like his friends, he was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt along with worn boots.

They don’t carry any packs. That’s strange. Unless their campsite is nearby. But at least they aren’t carrying any weapons. At least not any I can see.

“I was trying to get far enough ahead that I could climb into a tree when I stopped to grab my bag. I didn’t see what was ahead in time and I fell.”

“Are you hurt? You didn’t seem injured.”

She studied the dark-haired man. “No. I’m fine. Physically speaking anyway.” Her pride, however, was another thing. But why had it sounded like he already knew the answer? Like he’d seen her before?

“Are you guys going to help me out or what?” On second thought, maybe it was better if she sent them for real help, like a forest ranger or a fireman or a cop. Someone with a uniform and identification so she could know she could trust them. “Maybe you could call the local rescue squad?”

“That would take too long.” The one crouching leaned his upper torso so far over the edge that she worried he might tumble in with her.

“No it wouldn’t. I can last until tomorrow.”

“That’s too dangerous.”

She suddenly wished he’d grin again. He was right, of course, especially after the creature she’d seen. Although the thing hadn’t threatened her, had, in fact, appeared more curious than dangerous. “Then what do you suggest?”

They frowned as one, each of them thrown by her question. She should’ve begged them to get her out, and instead, she was waiting for them to come up with ideas.

“We’ll get you out.” Mr. Shaved Head stood up.

She sighed, relieved, and shook off the suspicious thoughts racing through her head. “Okay. So how do we do that?”

“I’ll jump down then heft you up to my brothers.”

Of course they were related. At least two of them looked like brothers. “Sounds like a plan. Although I’m not thrilled at having you refer to me as something heavy enough to get hefted.”

There’s that tilt of the head again.

She put everything back into the backpack except for her knife. Trying to do so without them noticing, she slid the knife into the back of her jeans.

“We’ll get you out, but you have to promise us something.”

Uh-oh. Here it comes.

She tried not to appear miffed, but it was difficult. “You want me to make you a promise?”

What could they want? Recognition as heroes? Money? Or another, more personal type of payment, like submitting to group sex? She didn’t consider herself a prude, but she’d never had sex with more than one man and even then she could count the number of times on one hand that she’d gotten intimate.

“Yeah.” He cut off Grinner’s attempt to protest. “No promise, no help.”

Shit and more shit. “Are you really coercing me right now? And you’re not going to help me without getting whatever”—she whipped her arms outward in disgust—“you want? Some Boy Scouts you guys are.”

He looked surprised and even offended. “It’s not like you’re thinking. And just so you know, we’ve never been and never will be Boy Scouts.”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “Oh, really? Then tell me. What do I have to do to get you to pull me out of here? What is it you want? Cash? Fame?” She narrowed her eyes. “My gratitude?”

They slid their eyes over her body almost at the same time. She felt their lust, but she also felt another element to their perusal. They wanted her. That much was easy to see. But they wanted something else, something even more personal from her. But what could that be?

“There’s no reason to get suspicious.”

“Then tell me, King, what do I have to promise to do?”

“What the hell does ‘King’ mean?”

The dark-haired one answered, “I think she’s referring to a musical called The King and I.”

“Huh?”

“There was this bald king who kept ordering this woman around and—”

He waved off his brother’s explanation. “Never mind. You”—he pointed at her—“have to promise you won’t run off into the woods.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. Run off? Aren’t you taking me back down the mountain?”

She gasped when, in one smooth motion, he dropped into the hole. He was impressive, standing well over her five feet, six inches. Close up, his body was even better than before, with muscles rolling into muscles that went on for miles. She’d never liked a shaved-head look on men much, but it only added to his macho appearance. If she hadn’t stopped herself, she would’ve brushed her palm over his head to see how smooth it was. Half to keep from doing that and half out of alarm, she stepped back, plastering her body to the wall.