Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

of her size. As Logan's mountains echo with her voice long after she's gone, he realizes she's taken his heart with her. But when he arrives in the city to reclaim her, Rebecca's phone has been disconnected and her apartment is empty…

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and content, exhibitionism.

* Excerpt *

Why the hell hadn‘t Jake returned from San Francisco? Logan wondered, grinding his teeth at the constant magpielike chattering of the people on the trail. Two more miles to Rainbow Lake. A shame he couldn‘t get them to jog, but maybe if he sped up some, they wouldn‘t have the breath to talk.

Usually Jake handled the social crap, while Logan did repairs and maintenance. People in individual packages could be enjoyable, but crowds? He‘d rather get shot in the head. He ran a finger down the scar on his face and snorted. Again.

Stepping up on an outcropping of granite, he eyed the line of people trudging up the switchbacks. No stragglers. The group appeared in pretty good shape. Even fancy Rebecca in her designer jeans and shapeless top had kept up.

In fact, she did more than keep up. As she walked beside her boyfriend, her green eyes sparkled with pleasure, alert to everything the forest offered. Logan had seen her spot a mule deer frozen in place, a hawk in a dive, and a tiny deer mouse. Each time her face lit with wonder.

Her open enjoyment added to his, and he found himself checking the line more often than normal just to catch her reactions.

The sun was high overhead and unseasonably hot by the time the trail descended, leaving the pines behind. He led the group across a grass-and wildflower-filled meadow to the tiny mountain lake, clear and blue and damned cold. Granite slabs poked up through the wildflowers, glimmering in the sun. With yells of delight, people dropped their backpacks and stripped.

Logan enjoyed the show of bare asses and breasts as the swingers splashed into the water like a herd of lemmings, screaming at the cold. As he leaned on a boulder, he noticed one person still completely dressed with wide eyes and open mouth. The city girl. Considering she and Matt bunked together, Rebecca couldn‘t be a virgin, but from her reaction, she was pretty innocent when it came to kink.

"C‘mon, babe," her boyfriend yelled, already buck naked in the lake. "The water‘s great."

Not waiting for her response, he waded out deeper, heading for a blonde who looked as if she had substituted bouncy breasts for cheerleading pom-poms.

Rebecca glanced from the water to the trail, back to the water, where Matt wrestled with Ashley, and back to the trail again.

Logan could see the exact moment she decided to leave. He walked over to block her way.

"Excuse me," she said politely.

"No."

Red surged into her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. Red-gold hair.

Freckles. Big bones. Looked like she had Irish ancestry and the temper to go with it. Stepping sideways to block her again, Logan tucked his thumbs into his front pockets and waited for the explosion.

"Listen, Mr. Hunt—"

"It‘s Logan," he interrupted and tried not to grin as her mouth compressed.

"Whatever. I‘m going back to my cabin. Please move your… Please move."

"Sorry, sugar, but no one hikes alone. That‘s one safety rule I take seriously." He glanced at the swingers. "I can‘t leave them, and you can‘t walk alone, so you‘re stuck here."

Her eyes closed, and he saw the iron control she exerted over her emotions.

The Dom in him wondered how quickly he could break through that control to the woman underneath. Tie her up, tease her a bit, and watch her struggle not to give in to her need and…

Hell, talk about inappropriate thoughts.

He pulled in a breath to cool off. No use. It was blistering hot, and not just from his visions of steamy sex. Nothing like global warming in the mountains. He frowned when he noted her damp face and the sweat soaking her long-sleeved, heavy shirt. Not good. The woman needed to get her temperature down.

At the far end of the meadow, the forest would provide shade. He could send her there to sit and cool off, but she‘d be out of sight, and from the obstinate set of that pretty, pink mouth, she‘d head right back down the trail in spite of his orders.

Shoulders straight, chin up, feet planted. Definitely a rebellious one, the type that brought his dominant nature to the fore. He‘d love to give her an order and have her disobey, so he could enjoy the hell out of paddling that soft ass. But she wasn‘t his to discipline, more‘s the pity, since a woman like this was wasted on that pretty boy.

And he‘d gotten sidetracked.

With a sigh, he returned to the problem at hand. She needed to stay here where he could keep an eye on her, and she needed to cool off.

"Even if you don‘t strip down completely, at least take some clothes off and wade in the water," he said. "You‘re getting overheated."

"Thank you, but I‘m fine," she said stiffly.

"No, you‘re not." When he stepped closer, he felt the warmth radiating off her body. Being from San Francisco, she wouldn‘t be accustomed to the dryness or the heat. "Either strip down, little rebel, or I‘ll toss you in with your clothes on."

Her mouth dropped open.

He wouldn‘t, would he? Rebecca stared up at the implacable, cold eyes, seeing the man‘s utter self-confidence. Definitely not bluffing.

Well, he could be as stern as he wanted. Damned if she‘d take her clothing off and display her chunky, scarred legs. She shook her head, backing away. If she needed to, she‘d run.

Faster than she could blink, he grabbed her arm.

She tugged and got nowhere. "Listen, you can‘t—"

With one hand, he unbuttoned her heavy shirt, not at all hindered by her efforts to shove his hand away. After a minute,