Chapter 2

Everlee

Iswipe my fingers over my chin and the corners of my mouth, checking to make sure no drool has pooled out between my lips.

Never in all my twenty-seven years, out of all the guys I've dated or the ones I've met, or even the men in the few pornos I've watched, have I ever seen a more gorgeous man.

Handsome is too tame a word. Attractive pales in comparison. Sexy comes close, but it's still not strong enough. Outrageously, devastatingly gorgeous is the only way to describe the man fifty feet away from me.

Wild Man.

It took me years, but I finally found him.

And holy mother of everything, it was well worth the wait.

He's currently bathing in one of the springs the area is known to have. One end has a pool of crystal clear water with thick green foliage surrounding the sides. There's a small path between a section of the foliage that invites a person to dip into the cool water. The other end has a small waterfall that has just enough of a trickle that it perfectly mimics a shower.

Wild Man runs a thick green leaf up and down his muscular arm, using it like a washcloth. He does the same to the other. When he switches to running it over his deeply chiseled chest, my eyes are helpless but to follow the movement.

He's not built like a linebacker. More like a surfer. He's stacked with muscles, but they aren't bulky and excessive. Instead of a six pack, there are eight sharply-cut ridges running down his stomach until they meet a V that I've always found ridiculously sexy on men. His pecs flex with each movement of his arms. Other than a small scattering of dark hair on his pecs that travels down his abs, his chest appears smooth and flawless. His skin is deeply tanned, which is expected since he lives outdoors.

My eyes slowly move down the line of muscles and stop where the water gently laps at his waist. Just a small portion of his cock sticks out of the surface. Disappointment is the first thing I feel at not being able to see the full package. If I were a little closer, I'd be able to see through the crystal clear water. Then I feel like a pervert for spying on an unsuspecting man and shame coats my cheeks. Even so, no matter how much guilt I feel, I can't tear my eyes away from him.

He's just too damn beautiful to not look at.

His dark hair, which reaches his shoulder blades, is wet and glistens in the sun peeking through the heavy canopy of trees. His cheeks and chin are covered in a thick layer of hair. It's shorter than what I would have expected, considering the man has lived in the wilderness for most of his life. How does he keep it trimmed? I can't imagine him having a razor or even know how to use one.

He starts moving toward the edge of the water, and my breath catches. I no longer have to worry about drooling because my mouth dries of moisture. I'm pretty sure every bit of it went between my legs.

I have the perfect profile view of him. And sweet Lord have mercy, if I thought from the waist up he looked good, the view below is damn near perfection.

A tapered waist and a round ass with luscious muscular globes are just as tanned as the rest of his body. But it's not that part that has my stomach clenching and my legs scissoring back and forth to relieve a needy ache.

With the leaf still in his hand, he wraps his fingers around a dick so thick and long that I can tell all the way from here it would be difficult for any woman to accommodate. I thought I had seen big dicks before, but good God, this one is mammoth. It has to be as thick as my wrist and nearly the length of my forearm.

A shudder ripples down my spine, and I send out imaginary sympathy to any woman who encounters that thing.

As intimidating as it is though, I can't stop staring at it. Or the way he carelessly strokes his hand up and down. From root to the tip, he twists his wrist. He drops the leaf and fists it bare-handed. He jerks his hand back and forth, the muscles in his arm bulging, moving slowly at first but picking up speed. He looks like he's squeezing that thing to death.

I move my gaze to his face. His head is tipped back, a sliver of sun shining down on him. It's hard for me to see from where I am and the beard covering his cheeks, but I can imagine his jaw is clenched.

My panties grow wet. The temptation to reach inside my shorts and swirl the tip of my finger over my clit is nearly too strong to ignore. I want to play just as he's doing. To flick that sensitive bundle of nerves just as he's stroking his hard shaft. I'm so damn turned on, it wouldn't take me long to come.

My eyes travel down his body just in time to see his asscheeks clench. I know that reflex. He's getting ready to come. Not wanting to miss it, I ignore my mind's demand that I look away and jerk my eyes back to his cock. Seconds later, a rope of cum spurts from the tip, splashing into the water. Three more arcs of clear-ish liquid squirts out as Wild Man's hand slows on his cock.

My cheeks must be the color of cherries and sweat dots my forehead. I suck in a sharp breath, trying to regulate my breathing and heart rate. I can't believe I just watched this man ejaculate. Watched him like a pervert while he was none the wiser.

You are a fucking creepy freak, Everlee.I admonish myself.

Even with that thought in my head, the camera hanging around my neck taunts me. A little teasing voice in the back of my mind whispers for me to take a picture of Wild Man and all his gorgeous glory. I bring the camera to my face, focus the lens, and press the shutter button. I take a couple more for good measure because, you know, just in case the first was blurry.

I disregard my conscience telling me this is for my own pleasure and not for the public's eyes. Obviously, I can't put these images in the article I'm writing. I tell myself it's normal for journalists to document things that never actually make it to the public. It's strictly for research purposes.

I almost snort out loud at the thought.

Wild Man releases his dick and it flops forward. It bounces to and fro as he exits the water. His legs are toned, tanned, and covered in a dark layer of hair. Water drips down his body, and for a miniscule of a moment, I'm jealous of the drops.

What in the hell is wrong with you, Ever?I reprimand myself. Your job is to witness and document, not ogle the subject.

Wild Man shakes his head like wild animals do and water flies everywhere. The movement also has his dick flapping about so hard it looks painful. Picking up a cloth, he roughly drags it up and down his arms and across his chest.

The shutter on my camera is silent as I take picture after picture.

The cloth gets dropped on a nearby bush. I hold my breath, wondering what he'll do next. He does nothing. He just stands there, so still he looks like a statue.

After several moments, he walks out of view, leaving the drying cloth behind. I wait and wait and wait for him to reappear. I found Wild Man and where he bathes, but that's it. I don't know where he went or where he came from. This part of the forest is thick and spans thousands of acres on all sides. I've been wandering around this part since the sun came up this morning. Who knows how long it'll take me to find him again.

My next move is to get closer to the pool of water and try to track his movements from there, hoping he's left a trail behind to follow.

A loud buzzing sound fills my ear seconds before there's a sharp sting on my arm. I slap my bicep, feeling the squish of the bug beneath my palm. So much for the bug spray I used earlier. I scrub my hand on my shorts, wiping away the bug guts.

Rika wasn't lying when she said I don't like the outdoors. Well, I do like it. I just hate the inconveniences that come with it; like bugs. I hate bugs.

Making sure the straps of my backpack are secure on my shoulders, I turn to make my way to Wild Man's bathing pool. I don't get fully turned around before I'm smacking into a solid wall.

A solid wall that has firm muscles and smells like pure male. A delicious scent that has moisture pooling back into my mouth.

What does one do when they bump into something? They throw their hands up to catch themselves. And of course, that's exactly what I do.

My nails dig into the tanned and firm muscles that my hands rest against. The muscles twitch, and I swear my heart lurches at the same time.

My eyes are pinpointed on the center of Wild Man's bare chest, right between the delicious dip of his very defined pecs.

I should probably look up, but I'm finding it difficult to do so. I'm still very much enjoying where my eyes are currently pointed.

I'm in big fucking trouble here. If his chest is this mesmerizing and looking at him from fifty feet away had me drooling like an idiot, there's no telling what condition I'll be in when I look him directly in the eyes.

I give myself a firm mental talking to and an imaginary slap on the side of my head.

Act professional, Ever. This is no more and no less than a job. You've got this. Be cool.

I search for and locate my proverbial big girl panties and pull them up. Taking a deep fortifying breath, I tilt my head back. Way back, because the man towers over me by at least a foot. My eyes clash with a pair so black, it's like looking into an empty void. Thick lashes frame the black orbs. I can't tell if he feels nothing, or if he's just damn good at hiding it.

He just stares at me with no indication of what he's thinking. No curiosity. No animosity. No intrigue. Absolutely nothing.

I clear my throat, briefly wondering if I should have taken better heed of Dad's and Rika's warnings.

Did I make a mistake coming out here? Did my foolish curiosity of learning more about Wild Man earn me a one-way ticket to my deathbed?

My brothers always said my innate need to know things was going to get me in big trouble one day. It's going to suck if I have to hear I told you so for the rest of my life.

That is, if I'm around for them to taunt me with it.

Something tells me the gun and taser on my hip may not do me any good with Wild Man so close.

"Hi." I mentally wince when the word comes out a squeak.

Wild Man says nothing. He doesn't even so much as twitch a single muscle.

He's so close that I feel the hot air of his breath fanning across my face. Surprisingly, his breath doesn't stink. Considering he's lived on his own in the wild since he was a young child, I assumed dental hygiene isn't something he remembers or even has the means to keep up with. If I'm not mistaken, I believe I smell a hint of mint.

With his head tilted down, his eerie dark eyes bore into me. They leave chills popping up on my arms and cause my heart to race an uneven beat. His lips, behind the scruff of his beard, are full and a deep shade of red. I didn't notice before because he was so far away, but his hair isn't just black, it almost has a hint of blue in it.

I blink away my mesmerized state and bring my attention back to the reason I'm here. To get information. To learn this man's story. To uncover the secrets surrounding Wild Man.

I open my mouth to introduce myself, but the words get stuck in my throat. They literally get stuck, because Wild Man wraps one of his big hands around my neck and tightens his fingers so much that I barely manage to draw in air to breathe, let alone speak.

I'm pushed backward until I'm forced against a tree, my backpack digging into my skin. I arch my spine when Wild Man dips his face closer to mine. My hand twitches to reach for my gun, but I hold off for the moment. He's not fully cutting off my air supply, just merely holding me in place.

He may have not shown his interest, but he's got to be just as curious about me as I am about him.

Even so, I slowly bring my hand up and wrap my fingers around his wrist. His eyes slightly narrow and he tightens his hold even more. I barely refrain from pulling at his hand. I get the feeling if I struggle, it'll agitate him, and that's the last thing I want to do.

I slowly drop my hand, keeping my eyes on him for his reaction. He gives none, except to loosen his hold a fraction.

Then, all of a sudden, he drops his head and his face goes to my neck. I don't know why, but I tilt my head to the side, which stupidly gives him easier access to whatever he's doing.

What in the hell is he doing?

It only takes me a moment to figure it out. The touch of his nose slides along the column of my neck and he breathes in deeply. He does it a couple more times.

He's… sniffing me?

For some reason, that has the hairs on my arms rising and the back of my neck prickles.

He keeps his face buried in my neck and steps closer. Something hard pokes into my stomach. My eyes widen, and my body stiffens at the realization of what it is. He's still fucking naked and he's pushing his humongous dick against me.

My instincts kick in, and I reach for his wrist with one hand while going for my taser with the other. I don't get to either before my neck is released and both of my hands are captured in his. He transfers them to one of his and lifts them above my head.

His lips are a flat line as he stares down at me with his unfeeling black eyes. His hair, still damp from his bath, partially hides his face as it falls forward. The hand not holding mine goes back around my throat. The heat of his fingers is scalding.

I straighten my spine as much as I can and stare back at him.

"No," I say, adding strength into my voice that I don't actually feel.

The only response I get in return is a deep grunt.

His face goes back into my neck and he continues sniffing me. With my arms raised, it limits his access, so using his grip around my neck, he tilts my head to the side.

Another grunt comes at the same time he pushes his hips forward, digging his abnormally large dick into my stomach.

"Stop!" I say louder.

When he doesn't even acknowledge my demand and continues his ministrations, I try to raise my knee, but it's no use. Wild Man has effectively trapped me. The only thing I can do is wait for him to finish and hope like hell this is as far as he'll take it.

I don't believe his intent is to get off while dry humping me. I think he's simply using the movement to keep me in place while he takes his fill of my scent.

Something wet touches my neck, and it only takes a second to comprehend that it's his tongue. He's fucking licking me, and from the deep rumble that vibrates in his chest, he's not displeased with the way I taste.

As he continues to rub his nose and tongue up and down my neck, the prickles of his beard abrading my skin, I open my eyes and stare up at the blue slivers of sky through the thick layer of trees. Birds chirp in the distance, along with the buzz of insects. Off to the right, in the direction of the spring, the whoosh of the waterfall fills the air. Sweat trickles down my temples, between my breasts, and down my back. It's hot as blazes out here. Why does mother nature have to pick now to be unseasonably hot for the beginning of fall? I bet that spring would feel heavenly right about now.

My eyes widen and my breath hitches when Wild Man leaves my neck and pushes his face against my chest. His nose pokes into the space between my breasts just above the line of my T-shirt and he inhales deep. I ball my hands into fists, the bark cutting into my flesh. I pull against his hold to test his grip, but it's locked tight.

A gruff groan reverberates from his chest and he digs his face deeper, stretching my shirt down until my breasts almost fall out. I wiggle against his hold, but he keeps me in place with his hands and groin tucked against me.

Then, before panic can set in, I'm released. It happens so fast, I stagger forward and nearly fall. My gaze shoots to Wild Man standing a few feet away, his body rigid with his nostrils flaring. Before I can stop myself, my eyes lower. Down and down they go until they fall on the rock hard appendage hanging between his legs. I thought it was big from fifty feet away. This close… I had no idea they were made that fat and long. Dark hair surrounds the root. The twin balls just below hang low.

I don't get a chance to look at it for long before Wild Man turns around and walks away, giving me a close up view of the backside of him. I'm not ashamed to admit, the back is just as appealing as the front.

I stand there for several seconds, watching him get further away from me as I contemplate following him or getting the hell out of there. The smart thing to do would be to leave and maybe bring one of my brothers back with me. Just one look at Wild Man, and I know he's more than I can handle, should things get out of hand, even with my gun and taser.

But I'm impatient. I've been curious about this man for years. And the magazine I work for is depending on this article. I promised Dillon I would have something for him no later than a couple of weeks. I won't let him and Linzi down. It's just not an option.

Call me na?ve, and maybe I'm making the biggest mistake of my life, but I really don't think this man will hurt me. Not truly.

So, with a deep breath of courage and a prayer to the big man upstairs asking Him to watch over me, and ignoring all the blaringly obvious warning signs, I take the first step toward uncertainty.