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Sierra Seduction…the game!…and a Free read!

I admit it…I think camping love is the sexiest there is. Give me a starry sky or a heavy golden moon hanging overhead…a campfire shooting sparks into the cool air and a couple of sleeping bags zipped together and I’m yours…well, my sweetie’s, anyway…to do with as he will. And I try to write most of my stories in places that I can imagine having a romantic time in, like the mountains or a secluded island. Sierra Seduction is free this weekend, here
And it actually is hereSierra Mountains Bishop Area
This picture was taken for me where the story takes place so that I could use it for the cover!

I am interested in the locations you, the reader and my fellow authors find most romantic. I will take all the names from comments this weekend, shake them up in a big straw hat and draw one and I will write a short that takes place in that commenter’s dream location…and send her (or him, I am not prejudiced) a $25.00 Amazon gift card!

Ready, set, show me the romance!
And don’t forget to pick up your copy of Sierra Seduction, free…but only through Sunday!

Laying Down the Law by Celeste Jones

Last spring I was invited to participate in the School’s in Session Box Set with several authors I admire greatly…so I was thrilled! But I am only now finding time to read and enjoy my co-author’s contributions. Laying Down the Law captured my imagination immediately. The chemistry between the hero and heroine is immediate, a spark to a flame, and it has a fun and engrossing plot that had me carrying my kindle around the house, not wanting to put it down. I think oyou’ll agree that Ali and Griff are a formidable pairing.Laying Down the Law

Blurb: Newly divorced and returning to law school after a twenty year absence, Ali Stewart has just one class to complete before sitting for the bar exam, becoming a lawyer and moving on with her life. She feels out of place with her much younger classmates, but she’s determined to succeed and put her ex-husband far in the past.

When she is paired with Griff for the semester, she learns that he even though he is much younger, there is much he can teach her, in and out of the classroom.

Laying Down The Law is an erotic romance which includes spanking, anal sex and graphic sex.

Excerpt #1

Griff knelt between her legs rubbing his thumbs up and down the insides of her thighs. Quivers racked her body and her legs bounced gently against the mattress. Unrelenting, he stroked higher and touched the edge of her panties, then moved back to her thigh. The next time he teased about an inch inside her lingerie and then back. The third time he came close she clamped her legs around his hand. “Please don’t stop,” she begged, reaching for the waistband of her panties and tugging them downward.

“Oh no, Missy. That’s my job.” He gave a tug to her panties and they tore away easily. “I’m in charge here. Your job is to enjoy.”

“And if I don’t?” She wiggled her hips against him and wondered at her own sauciness.

He tweaked her clit. “I will have to find you in contempt.”

The nerve endings in her pussy were on heightened alert, but the added pressure on her clit sent everything into sensation overdrive.

“Oh…oh,” she said, then covered her mouth.

Griff pulled her hand away, kissed her lips then probed her mouth with his tongue. He pulled back and looked directly into her eyes. “There will be no stifling yourself. Do I make myself clear?”

His finger found the nub of her clit again and pinched it until she rolled her head from side to side panting, “Yes, oh god yes”.

“That’s my girl.” His warm breath in her ear sent more shivers through her body. Was there any nerve ending left that wasn’t on the verge of combustion?

His lips moved down the length of her body pleasuring first one taut nipple and then the other before moving slowly to lay a trail of kisses from her navel to the edge of the curls of her mound. All the while his fingers continued to explore the depths of her pussy. With an expertise born of vast experience, he slipped his hand behind her and unhooked her bra while still using the other hand to churn the juices of her sex.

Where her bra went she neither knew nor cared. His mouth covered one aching tit and she arched her body closer to his pleasuring mouth.
Laying down the law is available at Amazon.com or you can treat yourself to the entire box set, School’s in Session and save 50%!

school's in session

End of Summer Spanks Winner~

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And my winner for #summerspanks is….Tara Finnegan by popular acclaim! Email me at katerichards09@gmail.com Tara!

End of Summer Spanks!

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Welcome to the End of Summer Spanks Blog Hop! You can visit the main site here after you’re done visiting here but before you wander off…at the end of the blog will be a What Happens Next? and one random commenter who completes the challenge will receive a ten dollar Amazon gift card.

It’s a wonderful time, the start of the school year and I know for some of us that means more time while the kids are back to school and the urge is to slam the door, run the bubble bath and put the kindle and all its book boyfriend content in the Ziplock…safety first all!  What a great plan!

Having spent the summer in Corbin’s Bend with For Ben I am so excited to add Educating Marguerite to the play list. My first true historical, I learned a lot about the Silver Boom in Virginia City, Nevada in the process…and since my husband LOVES Virginia City and we go there often…it was doubly interesting. Here’s an excerpt….

Educating Marguerite

Joining Alice on her knees, she peered over the top of the seat to see the couple, apparently unaware, or maybe just uncaring, that they were no longer alone.
The woman, a blowsy redhead, shrieked a curse at her husband and drew back her hand to swing at him. He ducked aside and removed his black felt hat from his slicked-down salt-and-pepper hair, hanging it on a hook beside the window. As she flailed and called him names, he calmly unbuttoned his jacket and hung it as well then opened his sleeves and rolled them to his elbows.
“Alice,” she hissed, “what is he doing?”
The Irish girl giggled. “Just watch.”
The next time the woman swung, the man caught her wrist and twisted it around her back. She shrieked another volley of curses, but this time it might be pain and not rage. Her florid cheeks and wild eyes met the girls’ but she didn’t react or tell the man.
“We should go.” Marguerite felt as if they were interrupting something personal, but Alice put an arm about her waist and rested her heat on her shoulder as they knelt side by side.
“I don’t think they mind.”
But did she mind? Marguerite couldn’t decide but the man had not seemed to notice them and she feared that if they made a move, he would. As the redhead panted, he dropped into the seat sideways, legs out in the aisle and, with a jerk, pulled her over his lap, her belly on his trousers, her face toward the back of the car.
He murmured something and she answered in a strangled tone, but with their voices so low, she could not make out what was said. Then he murmured something else and the woman—his wife?—began to struggle, kicking her legs and flailing over his lap.
“Maybe we can go now….” She started to turn, but Alice tightened her hold.
“No, we can’t. Just hush.” At a glance, she saw her friend’s color heightened as well. What was the man going to do that had her in such a state?
Then it became clear. To her complete horror and embarrassment, he lifted his wife’s skirt and underskirt, then unfastened her bustle and dropped it to the floor. As she kicked and cried out, he continued to pull and push and unfasten until only her pantalets remained to cover her female parts and her bottom.
“What are they doing?”
“Shhhh.”
He rested his palm on her back and spoke in a low, calm voice for some minutes and after a bit, the redhead’s flailing slowed then stopped and, relieved, although still confused, she turned to speak to Alice when the first thud emerged above the rumbling of the train car. She jerked her head around to find him lifting his hand for another smack and another, peppering his wife’s cotton clad behind with firm smacks as she shuddered and sobbed. Marguerite began to count, under her breath, one, two, and including the first one she hadn’t seen, he spanked her twenty-five times before he stopped.

Educating Marguerite is available here

Okay, ready for the game? I am a product of 12 years of parochial education. And yes, back to school did mean…will I get a nun who swats? Luckily, only one classroom I was in was led by a yardstick wielding sadist, the rest were actually pretty nice and good educators. And none of the sexy professors at college did…but it’s not a bad fantasy at that level! Here’s a bit of a story starter: When I arrived in my first class of the morning, instead of the doddering Professor Balderdunks, I faced the sexiest professor ever to wear tweed. Made nervous by the instructor’s commanding presence, I dropped my pens with a clatter, fidgeted constantly, and my phone rang three times. When class ended, Professor Black eyed me from across the room with a steely glare and said, “Please stay after class. You’ve been quite disruptive today and I would like to speak to you about proper classroom behavior.” What happens next?

The Latest Calendar Men from Decadent Publishing: Spotlight on A Model Hero by Sara Daniel

A Model Hero_LG

Spotlight on A Model Hero

by Sara Daniel

 

It’s a new month! Time to pull out your Calendar Men calendars. While you’re doing that, I’ll give you some background on how they came into existence…

 

Leonidas Russo is a former US Marine-turned-fashion model. He uses his connections in the fashion world to put a call out for models to be featured in a charity calendar he’s put together to honor the memory of his brother, an Army soldier who died in the Afghan war. Proceeds for the calendar in the stories will benefit The Fallen Warriors Family Fund, a charity that gives scholarships and assistance to the families left behind.

 

All together now, flip the calendar page up and gaze in adoration and unabashed lust at the ripped physique and chiseled face of Mr. September. This is his story…

 

A Model Hero

Gretchen Meyers is a full-figured woman living in a model thin world. Desperate to end her mother’s constant, nagging stream of dieting and fashion “advice,” Gretchen tackles the challenge of reviving her mother’s faltering modeling agency. All she needs is to woo back Kyle Ramsey, once the hottest model in the country.

 

Making the preemptive choice to turn his back on his career seemed Kyle’s only option until Gretchen comes calling. He doesn’t care what she wants to offer him, the answer is no. Still, he’s intrigued by her refreshing personality and all her lovely, lush curves.

 

When tragedy strikes, Kyle finds comfort and healing in Gretchen’s arms. But he can’t trust her with his career-ending secret and she doesn’t believe their relationship will survive the long term. He’s perfect and she’s not even close. Can the fragile ties holding them together survive Kyle’s opportunity to become a true model hero?

 

Excerpt:

 

The restaurant scene, then, had done its job. Gretchen would have to send Jamie flowers. No, she’d send a box of fattening chocolates instead. “Did you enjoy your evening after I left?”

 

Kyle’s gaze narrowed, he pushed himself out of the chair. “Did you arrange with Jamie to drop by our table?”

 

“How could I, when I had no idea where we were going for dinner until we were there?” Not to mention, she’d have preferred to sever essential body parts than ask Jamie Feldman for anything. But her irrational possessiveness was her own problem. “The important thing is you had a good time, and you’re ready to make up for everything you’ve been missing over the past year.”

 

“Those things aren’t important at all.” He advanced on her slowly.

 

She took a step back and came up against the door she’d closed a moment before.

Kyle flashed a predatory smile. He took her purse and briefcase from her shoulder, setting them aside. Then he rested his forearms on either side of her head and stared into her eyes, his lips a scant inch from hers as he spoke. “I’m here for you. Our date deserves another shot.”

 

Her heart thundered. The thick eyelashes framing his gray-green eyes mesmerized her. He stood too near for her to formulate a coherent response. This much physical perfection and sex appeal should be outlawed. Her mind was not equipped to handle it.

 

“What do you say?” he asked.

 

Yes, take me. “I say, why me?” Her voice rose with an embarrassing squeak as she struggled to compose a rational argument and remind herself she was in her office, just feet away from her employees who’d never seen her anything less than one hundred percent professional. “I get why you went out with me on Saturday. You’d shut yourself away from the world, and I was the first woman to find you. But you’ve been reminded you can have Jamie or anyone else you crook your finger for. Why do you still want me?”

 

His gaze softened with a tenderness that pierced her heart. He brushed his thumb along her cheek. “How could I not want you, Gretchen? You’re smart and funny and beautiful and not afraid to let a guy who has no idea what you like order for you on a first date.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Model-Hero-Calendar-Men-ebook/dp/B00MYJPP5A/

Kobo http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/a-model-hero

iTunes https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-model-hero/id911835986?mt=11

Decadent Publishing http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=980&osCsid=ikh5q70apmn539c8aasam1tp61

 

Sara Daniel writes what she loves—irresistible romance, from sweet to erotic and everything in between. She lives her own happily-ever-after romance with her hero husband. Connect with her online at:

Subscribe to Sara’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/rx_AL

Website: http://www.SaraDaniel.com

Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/SaraDanielSaraShafer

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/SSaraDaniel

Blog: http://saradanielromance.blogspot.com

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/ssaradaniel/

 

To celebrate A Model Hero’s release, I’m giving away a $20 Amazon gift card. Fill out the Rafflecopter form on my Facebook page to enter. http://tinyurl.com/nn757av

SaraDaniels

 

 

 

For Ben…Teri’s Recipes

For Ben Final LG

Dear Office People,

It’s me again! Writing to you from beautiful Corbin’s Bend in Colorado. Boy people are really battening down the hatches here for winter. I gather it comes on faster than in the City, where you’re all probably planning a few more beach weekends before fall. Labor Day is coming and in my continual quest to feed my husband and Bennie, I have been looking up barbecue recipes. After the incident a bit earlier in the summer where I set my hair a little bit on fire, Roy and I have agreed that anything involving actual flames is his job, and I promised to make
 the side dishes. I found this particular recipe in a box of papers I was sorting out. It’s my grandmother’s favorite version of potato salad and it looks pretty simple, so I thought I’d share it here before I give it a try.

Boil 2 lbs of potatoes or however many you need until done. Note to self: Ask Kristen how I can tell if they are done…and how many potatoes each person might eat

Fry 4 strips of bacon until crisp, then crumble and set aside a little bit of the grease as well

Cut potatoes into good-sized pieces and also three hard-boiled eggs Note 2 to self: boil eggs

Sprinkle some apple cider vinegar over the potatoes and add some chopped onion, the crumbled bacon, and the bacon grease Some? And bacon grease? If my family at bacon grease it may explain why Ben and I are the only two left.

Add mayo, salt and pepper to taste and toss. How much is to taste…of any of these things?

Hmm…I am sure a “real” cook could handle  so many variables…and it was always delicious when Grandma made it…but I think a trip to the deli is in order. I’m getting better in the kitchen, but it is a holiday weekend after all…and I could use the time to get a little work in and maybe if I’m lucky there will be a penalty for not making it myself? I can only hope.

Have an awesome Labor Day, all! Big hugs from,

Teri Far Away

You can buy For Ben Here

Sierra Seduction…A Free Chapter

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Chapter One

Val Epstein sank onto a granite outcropping and dropped his heavy pack next to him with a grunt. He’d climbed to the heights where patches of glacial ice remained even on a late summer afternoon, and where few hikers ventured. Instead of peace, his visit to the Sierra Nevadas brought a rush of memories and physical longing. But what had he expected? He rubbed at his cock, hardening in his shorts. Around every corner below the tree line, he’d half expected her to appear, flirting, toying with him, full of youthful sensuality and offering a gift he hadn’t had the courage to accept. Not then. So many years later he’d fall to his knees and beg for her touch.
He’d planned this journey to try to make some sense of a life that no longer offered the satisfaction it once had. But the memories of the woman he’d never been able to banish from his mind held his focus. The past distracted him from decisions about his future.
He squeezed a blob of sunscreen into his palm and the tropical scent revived an ache that never quite went away, lived deep in his bones, brought on a raging hard on every time he thought of her sparkling blue eyes and small, luscious tits. He’d broken into a cold sweat every time she held her ponytail aside so he could rub lotion into the back of her neck.
She’d be laughing at him. As she had when he chased her, offering to apply another layer of the cream one late summer afternoon thirty-five years before. Trying to get a peek into her shirt.
Her reddish-brown curls bobbed behind her as she raced ahead of him up the trail, that afternoon thirty-five years before, the sweet curves of her ass caressed by her worn cutoffs, long, tanned legs flying. She’d danced over the high, steep crags like she belonged there, which, of course, she did.
Each tree, rock, side trail held these images as if projected on the High Sierra itself. Gazing out over the view of the treetops below, from his perch where patches of glacier ice remained all summer and few hikers ventured, he pulled out his rock-hard dick. Closing his fist around it, Val began the slow stroking from root to tip that would ease his craving for a few moments. As he gripped his shaft the scene replayed as if it had been yesterday.

“Slow down, Mickie!” He cast a worried glance at the sun, already touching the top of the highest peaks. “I give up.”
She sped on, her laughter drifting back to him. “Catch me.”
Even at twenty, in excellent condition from his summer job building trails, he couldn’t keep up with her. But, determined to try, he increased his pace. The round curve of Mickie’s sweet ass disappeared from his view and he fought panic. What if she got lost? Even in the first week of September, the nights at ten thousand feet and more above sea level dipped into the twenties…or the teens. Unlike him, she didn’t ever carry any supplies when they hiked. Just a canteen tied to her belt. She acted as if the mountains held no dangers at all. Called him “Scout,” for being always prepared. His own pack slowed him down, which meant it would take him that much longer to get his hands on her. The impractical girl had led him a merry chase from June until the beginning of September.
She could die in these mountains on her own. Why didn’t she understand that? His heart thudded in his ears from the altitude or panic or both.
Driven to save her from her own foolishness, he charged around a corner in the path and crashed into her, sending them both flying to the ground. To prevent his greater mass from crushing her, he caught himself on his hands, stinging gravel digging into his palms. Her ass butted against his cock, which leapt to attention, nudging the crack of her denim-covered butt. Val stifled a groan when she bucked back against him, unaware she played with fire—or stoking the flames?
Shrugging the straps of his pack from his shoulders, he dropped it to the ground.
She shoved her ass against his groin again, and he jerked. “Dammit, Val-iant. Watch where you’re going.”
“Don’t call me that! You know I hate it.”
“It’s your name…Valiant.” Dropping flat on the ground, she rolled to her back.
Her breasts rose and fell with her panting breaths, nipples poking against the soft cotton of her T-shirt. She’d flirted the whole summer, teasing him without mercy, but he’d pretended not to notice. Mickie belonged in the California mountains and he’d be back on the East Coast soon. Beginning grad school. His focus couldn’t be anywhere but on his career. He ran from the choices made by his hippie mother. Eighteen years of commune dwelling cured him of the lifestyle. Success in business first, a personal life second.
But her flushed cheeks and wet lips drove him on. Her cherry-flavored gloss melted away. His dick bulged in his shorts and he licked the seam of her lips, urging her to open for his questing tongue.
“I prefer Scout.” Mickie met his with hers, sweet and tentative but so seductive he lost what little sense he had left, his rock hard cock doing most of his thinking for him. He’d worked his hands under her T-shirt—her lack of a bra—ever—had not escaped him. Lifting the garment over her head, he choked at the sight. Sweet pale globes topped with cherry red nipples. “Oh, Mickie.”
“They’re small,” she said.
“They’re perfect.” Mouth watering, he buried his face between her tits, closing his eyes and breathing in the soft scent of lavender and the coconut sunscreen from earlier. “I want to taste them.”
She shivered and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Go ahead.”
Val turned his head and blinked his eyes open. Cupping her breast, he licked his lips and closed them around her nipple. He laved the areola, taking in the bumpy texture, the salt of her sweat, and his cock surged against his fly.
When she made no protest, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, rewarded by a low moan. He moved to the other side and repeated his actions, loving her whimpers, her shaking limbs. Pinching the first tight bud between two fingers, he played with them both. She held his head to her chest, pulling his hair in her zeal.
Val couldn’t hold back anymore, about to shoot his wad in his shorts. He released her breast. “I want…I want to—”
She let go of him and pushed him back, grabbing at his shorts, pulling the zipper down and Hallelujah! He just hoped he didn’t come in her hand. That would be damned embarrassing. He just had to hold out long enough to get into her pussy. Then they heard it.
Singing.
“Oh no!” Shoving him away, Mickie scrambled to her feet. “Quick, where’s my top?” She took it from him, dragged it over her head and leaped to her feet.
As he struggled with his zipper, trying to remember who and where he was, a troop of little girls from the camp ambled around that same blind corner.
“Oh look, it’s Michaela!”
“And her friend that trail guy.”
What the hell were all these kids doing way up here?
The girls surrounded them. They carried packs hung with sleeping bags and were so excited, they didn’t seem to notice anything odd, just happy to see people they knew along the way. They chattered on about heading toward a campsite where some of the staff waited with fun activities planned.
The last one to arrive was their counselor.
Unlike Mickie who worked as a cook at the camp for inner city kids, and Val who built trails for the camp to earn money to supplement his scholarships and student loans, wealthy Julia volunteered her time. She had explained how good this would look on her résumé. Charity work always did.
Well groomed at all times, she never seemed to break a sweat. Her crisp, unwrinkled Camp Freshair polo clung to her high breasts and trim waist as if tailored for her. With her money, it probably was. Her dark, shoulder length hair danced in a perky ponytail in cadence with her words when she spoke.
“Hello, Michaela, Val.” One dark sculpted brow rose. “And what brings you two up here on this lovely afternoon. Isn’t it about time to start cooking dinner, Michaela?”
Mickie’s cheeks burned red, but she held the rich girl’s gaze. “It’s my day off, but thank you for your concern.” Spinning on a heel, she started back the way they came. “I think I’m done here for now. Coming, Scout?” She marched away while he stared after her.
“Yes, Scout…were you coming?” Julia’s gaze drifted to the front of his shorts.
He fought the urge to cover himself, cheeks heating. “Leaving, yes.” He hurried after Mickie, the moment broken but his twenty-year-old hormones in raging awareness. It only took a moment to catch up to her below the tree line and fall into step at her side.
“I hate her.” Mickie walked faster, a twig snapping under her feet like a firecracker in the quiet forest. “She knew too…and she’ll tell everyone, ruin everything.”
“What can she tell?” he asked. “She didn’t see anything.”
Mickie snorted, her back straight in her march downhill, her boobs proudly leading the way. “She saw everything. Don’t kid yourself. Or, at least, she figured it out.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to his side. “Who cares what she thinks anyway.”
She softened, resting against him. “Not me.” They walked on for a while, in silence, the scent of pine trees and sage tickling his nose. “Scout?”
“Hmm?”
“The summer is almost over.”
“Yep.”
“And you’ll be going home, three thousand miles away in a few weeks.” Resting a hand on his arm, she stopped and faced him. “Before you go, I want to do it with you.”
His head spun as all the blood ran south at the image of that creamy flesh beneath him, her pussy clenching around his dick when he drove her to orgasm. If he took that step with her, it would mean more. Even with his cock bobbing in agreement with her idea, insisting he take her into the bushes that moment and fuck her, his brain managed to sort out something it hadn’t before. This was not a woman to screw and leave. Not like the easy girls at school who went from dorm room to dorm room. “Mickie, I can’t do that and just leave.” He was already dreading leaving her—
“Sure you can. I want you to be my first.”

At this point in the fantasy, he always changed it. Said yes. His clenching fist tightened on his cock, friction and the image in his mind driving him toward orgasm. Her parted legs inviting him to be her first, to fuck her into oblivion. To hear her cry out “Yes!” He spurted into his hand, white cum dripping between his fingers, and he sagged back onto the rock and wiped his hand and his dick on the bandana tucked in his belt. He’d need to rinse it out first chance he got.
Alone again.
A movement below captured his eyes and he rustled in his pack for binoculars. A hiker appeared on a trail above the lake. Long legged, fairly slim, but not the ghost of his nineteen-year-old Michaela. He watched the gap in the treetops to see who followed her, but the woman seemed to be alone. Even up here, where crime was a rarity, plenty of other dangers existed— bears and cougars, avalanches and sudden storms—and he didn’t like to see any woman alone. The binoculars made him feel like a peeping Tom, but he couldn’t seem to look away. The woman he worried about had long, . tanned limbs that drew his admiring gaze. Her curly hair stuck out of the back of the baseball cap she wore, hanging down her back in a gray-streaked auburn ponytail.
How idiotic. Some of his friends had girlfriends half their age, all enhanced tits and tight asses, but he’d never gone in for that. Midlife crises were for fat, balding guys who didn’t care about anything but their dicks and had to take something to make them usable. He’d chosen to lavish his passion on the mountains, conquering them instead of silly twenty-somethings. But that didn’t make his dick any less rigid.
He’d never had to worry about little blue pills. Thank god.
His dick hardened at the mere memory of the girl he’d met the summer between college and grad school. But he hadn’t counted on a lifetime passion for the mountains that had him adding the top peaks to his 100 North American Peaks checklist until only McKinley remained—the tallest in the lower 48 states and the one in the Sierras, the range that reminded him of her. As his marriage fell apart, his love of the outdoors grew until it replaced sex and intimacy. He understood conquest, the thrill of standing on a peak and surveying the land far below. Of making business deals involving hundreds of millions of dollars. But he’d failed at Relationships 101.
The woman below him disappeared from view around a bend and he leaned back, allowing the sun-warmed stone to ease the tight muscles in his lower back while the cool, late afternoon breeze dried the perspiration on his face. He cleaned up and tucked his dick back in his pants.
Biting into an apple from his pack, he savored the sweet crunch. Everything tasted better up here, a simple fruit better than the gourmet lunches he shared with clients. Tomorrow, he’d be on a plane back to the East Coast and another six months of seventy-hour workweeks before he could break away again. Wouldn’t it be nice if he had a companion for his trips? A soft, willing body to warm his blood on cold nights.
But then he was used to hiking alone. He only hiked with her in his dreams.

Michaela Vanz shifted her pack higher on her shoulders and tilted her phone forward and back, fighting the urge to toss the useless thing over the cliff edge. Disgust colored her mood. Nobody depended on GPS to find their way this high in the backcountry. At least nobody who wanted to find her way back in one piece. Nobody who knew better.
And Miss Michaela knew better.
She didn’t get to fifty-four, hiking the mighty Sierras and many of the other great ranges of the world, without being smarter than her current behavior indicated. Of course she’d always been the camp cook, able to make a gourmet meal out of a handful of freeze-dried ingredients and some wildcrafted herbs. Silas, may he rest in peace, had been in charge of maps and location. Six months on her own hadn’t improved her abilities to navigate her way out of a paper bag.
And she’d avoided this particular area for a long time, unsure of why she approached it today. Trail of unfulfilled needs and heartache.
She glanced at the lowering sun. Another hour of light before it sank behind the frosted peaks and, once it did, the temperature would plummet. Not that she couldn’t keep warm, but she’d planned to return to her car by evening and was running pretty low on food. Scraps of beef jerky and one small apple wouldn’t do much to keep her company on an early September evening. A photo shoot location search shouldn’t have led to her being lost in the backcountry. Not with the hundreds, maybe thousands of hours she’d spent in the High Sierra. But not very many alone.
She’d managed to make it through the summer by sticking to existing trails. Her moderate successes had made her overconfident. But a memory of a particular one path drew her, maybe her loneliness added to the desire. Also she’d heard of a lake deep in the mountains that sounded like a perfect backdrop for her latest photo shoot.
She’d promised Silas, sort-of, to try to find a new hiking companion, but hadn’t made the effort. They’d been partners for over thirty years; who could replace him? Most of the mountaineers she knew were so much younger, she didn’t get their campfire humor or know any of the songs she liked to sing and that took the fun out of the whole thing. That and the fact that she had this naughty love of camping sex. Some happy-go-lucky kids were not her choice for “hiking companions.” Maybe she could sign up for some matchmaking site.
Fifty-four year old photographer seeks hot alpha hiker for long nights in the mountain fucking our brains out. Limp dicks need not apply.
Right.
Wrong.
Did Val still hike? Did he ever think of her, with fondness or regret? Lust?
The shadows lengthened, covering the trail ahead of her as she descended toward the lake—well, a lake. Whether the one she sought or another of the many other jewels scattered throughout the Sierras, this side of the glacier, she couldn’t be sure until she got closer. Everything in her demanded she stop, set up camp, and ensure she didn’t freeze during the night. If the glimmer of sunlight on the breeze-ripped whitecaps represented the wrong body of water, heading into the valley, where cold air lay stagnant, she could be sealing her fate.
Drama! Of course she’d be nervous when she rarely overnighted alone…having someone at her side made her feel safer, more able to handle a crisis. She stumbled over a tree root at the edge of the path and cursed. If she’d fallen and hit her head, she could have bled to death and nobody would have known—since she’d have been dragged off by wild beasts and devoured.
Twenty years from now, thirty maybe, someone hiking through here would find her white, polished skull, a lurid testament to what the bears like for dinner. Shreds of worn fabric tangled in the branches of a tree then much taller than when she’d been murdered, maybe a faint stain of rusty red on the rock where she’d suffered her mortal injury.
They’d all be sorry…they’d…but who would?
In a fit of self-pity, Michaela sank to the rock, an innocent hunk of granite holding no bloodstains whatsoever. Truth was nobody would miss her. Oh, her assistant might be a little sad and she had some dear friends, but nobody who would be heartbroken, whose life would be left with a gaping hole if she never returned from her foolish journey. Sometimes she missed Silas a lot. With him at her side, she’d never worried about anything.
But not as much as…well, no point in trying to relive a past so long ago she’d no doubt changed the details to suit her. And Silas had been a great and noble companion, trailing her on her adventures without complaint, even if their relationship had been best friends first, lovers second. But why was his face not the most vivid in her imagination as she knelt to brush aside some branches and twigs and make a place to spread her bedroll?
Why?
How many years could she hold the visage close to her heart…the face of a man who left her before they even had the chance to find out if they had a future together? Who’d rejected her offer in such a brusque way?
Michaela hung her pack on a high branch about fifteen feet away from her camp spot, then moved back, unzipped the bag, and slipped inside, removing her shoes once she’d closed it around her. She’d be warm enough and, with her pack out of easy reach and not right next to her, she’d be less likely to attract wild animals.
Fires were a no go at this season, too easy to start a wildfire, but it wouldn’t be her first night without one.
As she fell toward sleep, her imagination conjured him there with her. Not Silas, but her old crush. Odd but she could still remember his arms tight around her, how masculine and enticing he smelled when she buried her nose in his neck. How exciting when she’d first felt his rock-hard appendage pressing against her belly. And her ass.
She remembered everything.
But he wouldn’t remember. She’d made an ass of herself, and probably a cock-tease for an entire summer, throwing herself at him in the awkward way of an untried nineteen year old, and he’d never taken her up on it. He couldn’t have made his disinterest—barring of course the natural reaction of a healthy male to a girl in his arms—any more clear.
He’d married that bitch Julia. She’d learned that from an old camp friend, but asked not to be told any more. Her imagination was cruel enough.. They’d probably had several children, each as beautiful as the one before. While she scrambled over scree slopes, laden with camera equipment, he’d be having dinner at his country club, hitting a tiny ball on a manicured verdant course, attending the local philharmonic with his wife decked out in jewels and furs.
Shoving the thought of anyone else in his life aside, she snuggled into the sleeping bag. Her fingers moved under the waistband of her pants and into her panties, wet even now with the memory of the hard-bodied guy she’d craved. Stroking through the silky cream, she let one digit slip inside and moaned. The same fantasy, embellished over the years….

“Come on, what are we waiting for?” Michaela snuggled close to his warmth, wishing she could stay there forever. “You’re flying out, who knows if we’ll ever even see each other again.” She played her fingers down the warm curve of his neck and over his chest. One chance to get him into her wet panties, to learn what it would feel like to have him inside her. Would it hurt, like some of the girls claimed? Val wouldn’t want to hurt her, but if that was the only way?
But after that, him pulsing inside her. Filling her, stretching her.
Val rested his cheek on the top of her head and sighed. “I don’t want our first time to be our last.”
“Let tomorrow take care of itself. You’ll be back, won’t you?” Her heart beat in her throat. “Next summer. Or are you saying tonight is it…no matter what?” Why did it hurt so much? She struggled to pull away, but he tightened his arms.
“I never said that. You know I care for you, Mickie.” Nobody else got away with calling her that. Like she was a mouse or something. It was bad enough to have a boy’s name.
She tried again, pressing kisses against his warm chest, bare where she’d managed to slip a few buttons from their holes, and thrust her breasts against him, hoping her hard nipples would entice him to lick her there again. Her fingers rubbed the hard ridge tenting his pants. “Then why don’t you want to…to do it with me? You don’t want me that way, don’t think I’m enough woman for you.”
He chuckled, his skin vibrating under her cheek. “I think you’re enough woman for anyone. I don’t want to start something we can’t finish.” As she parted her lips to protest, he continued. “I don’t even have any protection with me. What if you got pregnant?”
“I don’t see a downside to having your child. Aren’t we going to be together anyway?”
Now he struggled, managing to leave a few inches between them in the down bag. As if she might get pregnant from cuddling. “I’m just starting my master’s program. Then at least five years of career building before I can even consider marriage and a family, Mickie. If you got pregnant, it would be a disaster!”
Up to the disaster comment they weren’t in trouble, but the moment that evil word passed his lips, she made use of the space between them to punch him in the gut. Hard.
“I’m so sorry the idea of my having your baby is comparable to the Titanic. Let me out of here.” Michaela jerked the zipper down and struggled to her feet, reaching back into the bottom of the bag to fetch her boots.
She laced them sitting on the ground, the cold air chilling her to the bone and making her nipples ache almost as much as her heart. Sobs shook her shoulders and her heart broke.
So Julia told the truth. “You have big plans, Val, and I don’t fit into them. You won’t even make love with me one time before you leave.”
I can’t believe he’d rather fuck that frigid rich bitch than me. Can’t he see how much I care for him?
“Julia is probably a better fit for you anyway.”
Shut up! Shut up! Don’t throw him at her.
But hurt pride filled her mouth with stupid words. “I am sure her daddy’s connections will be what you need to make those five years count. Of course, once you’re married you won’t have to ever worry about career problems, will you?”
She’d fled down the trail toward the distant lights of the camp, too upset to care if she ever saw him again. So independent at that age. All black or white, no shades of gray.
No stopping to wait for explanations.
All or nothing.
No matter how wet he made her, how needy, she’d find a way to live without him. She’d never see him again.

Shaking off the past, Michaela pulled her head into the bag and prepared to wait out the darkness. She’d gotten good at wishing. Wishing for Val to realize his mistake before it was too late, for her career as a photographer to take off, for the pregnancy that Val considered a disaster but Silas longed for, for morning. At least half those things were guarantees.

You may find the rest of Sierra Seduction Here
Have a wonderful weekend!

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