Page List


Font:  

He and Caleb had warned the organizers of the camping trips that they were fucking dangerous, and at every single turn they were thwarted. Not this time. This woman could have died out there, and no one had even sent out an alert of a missing woman.

“Call the doctor. Get him out here. I don’t want to risk moving her in case she’s taken a fall or something more.” Caleb reached out and slowly moved some of her hair off her face, which covered a large cut against her forehead.

“That doesn’t look good.”

“I have a feeling she tripped, fell against the rock, and hurt her ankle in the process. Anyone who’s not used to these forests can hurt themselves pretty easily.” Caleb cursed. “I’m making some tea.”

Grabbing the phone, Damon sat on the wooden coffee table, watching her as he waited for the doctor to answer his call. He gave him a rundown of what happened and hung up.

Without waiting for instructions from Caleb, he dialed the camping trip organizer, and didn’t give a fuck that it was nearly eleven at night. The moment Rich answered, Damon quizzed him.

“Do you have any fucking idea that you left a woman up in the forest? She’s fallen, you asshole, and was so far off the trail she could have died if it wasn’t for my dog!” His anger began to build as he thought about this poor woman out there all alone. They didn’t live in the suburbs. Their cabin was nestled in the most rugged wilderness one could find, thousands of acres of old-growth forest.

He held her hand tightly, knowing he wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her. As he did this, he also wondered where his possessive feelings had come from.

Chapter Two

Caleb strained out the tea leaves from the pot and filled a mug with the homemade concoction. He couldn’t help but remember when their father used to make tea for their mother every evening. He’d never seen a couple more in love, even after decades of marriage. He aspired to have that kind of love. Something he’d lost hope of achieving once he celebrated his fortieth birthday earlier in the year.

At least he had enough good memories to carry him through the rest of his life. He was big on tradition and hoped his parents were proud when they looked down on their sons. They’d done everything right … except carry on the family blood line.

The doctor had arrived a few minutes earlier, busy examining their sleeping beauty. He didn’t dare voice his feelings because he could already see the glint in his brother’s eyes. Damon was so damn desperate for a woman, he couldn’t think straight.

As Caleb entered the room, the doctor was finishing up, adjusting his stethoscope around his neck. His patient attempted to peek open her eyes, then she’d drift away again.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked, setting Opal’s tea on the coffee table.

The doc tidied up his medical bag, the same old one he used when they were kids. “She’ll live,” he said. “Just a sprain and mild concussion. Nothing some rest won’t cure.”

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” said Damon, shaking his hand.

“You’re lucky. I was nearby checking on Blackwoods’s pregnant wife, otherwise it would have taken me hours to get way out here.”

“Everything okay with them?”

He nodded. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

They walked the doctor out to his truck in front. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, the cloud cover nearly blocking it out completely. At least the rain had settled.

“Drive safely,” said Caleb.

The doctor put his black bag in the passenger seat, then turned and placed a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “You want me to call the authorities, have someone come out and get the girl?”

He immediately shook his head. “No, we’ll handle everything. Like you said, she needs rest.”

“Just a few days and she should be good to walk on that ankle.”

“Yes, sir.”

They watched him drive off, the cones of light disappearing into the forest. The roads were only roughly carved out between the trees, barely wide enough for their truck. When they’d moved back home after decades away, it had taken weeks of brush removal and clean-up just to reach their cabin.

“Now what?” asked Damon, once they were alone on the front porch.

He shrugged. “It’s only a few days. We have enough supplies to feed another mouth.”

Damon exhaled, leaning against one of the support beams. “That’s not what I’m fucking talking about and you know it.”

“Don’t start,” he said.


Tags: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Breeding Season Erotic