Starfire(42)

“You look like a sexy forest nymph. No, a forest nymphomaniac. Is that a real thing? Because maybe it should be.”

I giggled, covering my mouth with one hand.

He cupped his palms around the bottoms of my breasts and tilted them up. His voice deep and husky, he said, “I’m feeling greedy again.”

“You talk too much. Put my nips in your mouth.”

He flashed his eyes at me and took a delicious mouthful of breast, giving it a hard suck to send tingles all around my seat.

He licked and sucked my breasts for what felt like hours, until I felt like a tea kettle about to whistle. I unbuttoned my jeans, guided his fingers down, and after a few more minutes of fingers swirling, I was whistling, indeed. All the way to completion.

With my moans of pleasure still fresh on my lips, I moved back on the log, leaned forward, and unbuttoned his hiking shorts. Adrian’s wood came out to match the forest surrounding us, and I got to work making the most of the local natural resources.

This time, I didn’t ask him to say any dirty things. The serenity of the forest was too beautiful, plus I already felt dirty enough, with all the little birds and creatures watching.

When we were finished exchanging pleasantries, we celebrated by sharing a ginger-ale and a couple of granola bars.

The timer alarm on Adrian’s phone jarred us out of our reverie. Sundown was less than an hour away, and the walk back would take less than that, but only if we hurried.

I told Adrian to wait for me while I found somewhere semi-private to tinkle. I was embarrassed to be talking to him about bladder business, but wetting my pants on the walk or drive home would be worse.

“Go right here. I won’t look.” He shook his head at my modesty. “Fine, go wander off, but don’t go far, and take Cujo to watch out for bears.”

What I should have said was, “What bears?” Instead, however, I called the dog to come with me, and I stupidly blundered off into the bushes looking for somewhere semi-private.

I found a nice spot to wee, grumbling to myself about how much easier it is for boys, who don’t have to locate an incline so as to avoid muddying their shoes. After I was done, I stood up to button my jeans, and Cujo growled.

Cujo wasn’t growling at me, though, but at something behind me. Naturally, I assumed the shadowy shape was just Adrian, with his shirt pulled up over his head or something equally ridiculous.

“Oh, help,” I squealed. “Please don’t eat my toes, Mr. Scary Forest Folk Man!”

Cujo kept growling, his lips curled back in a snarl and his haunches up, his fur standing up.

I looked more carefully, and found a black bear less than forty feet away. The bear was still at first, then raised its snout up, sniffing the air. I could actually hear its breaths as it sniffed, then raised up slowly, standing on its back legs.

Cujo began barking, still holding his ground.

Adrian called out my name from nearby.

I didn’t answer, because the bear seemed focused on the dog, and I didn’t want to alarm it. I began slowly backing away.

Adrian seemed to be calling out my name, but I couldn’t hear him over the dog barking and the pulse rushing in my ears.

I kept backing up, until something grabbed me. A hand clapped over my mouth, stifling my scream.

“You’re okay,” Adrian whispered in my ear. “I’ve got you and you’re okay. We’re going to quietly back up. We’ll just back on out of here.”

He pulled his hand from my mouth. Cujo stood halfway between us and the bear, still barking and growling. The bear was bobbing from side to side in a way that was both cute and mind-blowingly terrifying.

We backed up, putting more distance between us and the bear. Adrian finally called out softly, “Cujo, down. Come. Come here. Heel.”

The dog turned to look our way, momentarily distracted, and the bear leapt forward, making its move.

I screamed. Adrian grabbed my arm tightly and commanded that we run.





CHAPTER 14


“No! Cujo!” I howled.

“He’s fine,” Adrian said through gritted teeth, and tugged my arm hard.

We ran through the woods, me with tears streaming down my face. We ran until I was out of breath and stumbling over branches.

Adrian stopped.

The woods were silent. No dog barks. Nothing.

Adrian whistled for Cujo.

No response.

He whistled again.

Nothing.

“I’m so sorry,” I blubbered. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Adrian held his finger to his lips.

I held my breath.

A dog barked, just one little bark.

Adrian whistled again.

The bushes nearby rustled.

After several painful minutes of waiting, the German Shepherd came limping toward us from the shadows.