Sex Retreat(32)

He sat on a lounger, kicked his feet out in front of him, and crossed his ankles. “Yes, indeed. I could get used to this kind of living.”

Several speedboats raced across the waters. The hard-hitting sounds of bows hammering against the wakes resounded.

“What a beautiful melody,” he said, returning to the preliminary stages of his killing plan.

Knock off Colony. Dispose of Colony’s buddies. Make the murders look like they were committed by Trixie and convince her that he’s the only man who can save her.

He narrowed his gaze on a fishing boat easing its way into the cove. The pink and orange hues parted the dark sky as the sun slowly made its way into the morning. The lone fisherman stood and tossed his pole over his shoulder, the silver shimmering against the water as the line was cast and disappeared into the lake.

Returning to his scheme, Cash realized there were a few flaws in his plan. For starters, he liked Mitch Colony. He was an odd guy, a real asshole at times, but he liked him. Mitch was a friend.

He revisited their last conversation. Mitch had told him to make himself at home. He’d even said he could hang around as long as he liked, so he had received an open invitation to stay on there.

If Cash found a way to make himself useful, perhaps he could live there forever. Then—he spread his arms wide and closed his eyes—all of this could be his. But that didn’t solve his problem—the real reason why he’d arrived at Cow Camp in the first place.

He’d gone there so he could figure out the best way to pursue Trixie Cartwell Sheldon. Somewhere along the way, his luck had greatly improved because Trixie had come to him. He wouldn’t have to begin a long search.

He dismissed the idea of his woman curled up in bed with two or three men. He would later decide what he wanted to do about her apparent obsession for other fellows.

First, he needed to arrange a face-to-face meeting. In fact, before he decided the fates of the other men there, he wanted to see if he could hold his own in a lineup with them.

Maybe she would find him attractive. If so, who could say what the future held? Perhaps she had room in her bed for one more.

There was only one way to find out. He would go to the lodge. It was time to meet the woman who held her lovers’ futures in her dainty hands.

“Ah yes, Trixie. Ready or not, lady, here I come.”





Chapter Fourteen




There was something about a Cow Camp sunrise that made all others pale in comparison. When Trixie had been a counselor there, she’d often set her alarm clock for the sole purpose of watching the sun come up. A few times, Brock had joined her there at the ski docks, but most of the time, she’d enjoyed the peace and quiet alone.

“You’ll hold this against me,” she said, sensing Brock behind her. “I know you’ll never forgive me. I saw it in your eyes when we were back there talking to Mitch.”

Brock locked his arms around her waist and drew her against him. He took a deep breath and nuzzled her hair. “I knew I’d find you here.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Let’s just enjoy this moment,” Brock whispered, nipping at her ear. “Do you remember how we used to watch the sunrise together?”

She laughed. “This was the only place you knew for sure you’d find me alone.”

“Hmm,” he muttered, holding her still tighter.

The hard length of his cock stretched his denim and rubbed against her bottom. She relaxed in his grip, letting him guide their movements as he casually swayed from side to side.

“I thought you were the prettiest woman I’d ever seen.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “No you did not. You thought I was spoiled, headstrong, and too innocent for you.”

“That, too,” he said, stilling behind her.

The quietness then spoke volumes and she wondered what he was thinking, what he and Mitch had said to one another, and what Rory and Mitch might be discussing now that she and Brock were nowhere to be found.

She folded her hands over his and stared across the lake. “Do you ever think about our first night together?”

“Of course I do.”

“Any regrets?”

“About being your first? No.”

She giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“What you said.”

“Just now?” Brock asked.

“No, back then,” she replied, turning to face him. Throwing her arms over his shoulders, she quickly added, “I remember I told you I wanted you to be my first and—”

“And I said, ‘What if you like it so much you want me to be your last.’”

“Yes you did,” she whispered. Framing his face, she left a peck on his lips and added, “What if I had taken you up on that proposition then. Where would we be now, Brock?”