I chuckled quietly. “Yeah, except in this case, Winnie the Pooh is at least eight feet tall and weighs a thousand pounds.”
“What do we do?” she asked.
“We have two options—go back around the corner and wait for him to leave on his own, or try to make enough noise that he runs off.”
“Which is less likely to get us mauled?”
I laughed. “Hell if I know. For all we know, we could wait back around the bend, only to find him face to face with us again.”
She looked up at me. “What about your gun?”
I snorted. “Couple major issues there, sweetheart. Number one, he ain’t hurtin’ nothin’, just getting some honey in his belly. Number two, we’re in his home, so by rights, we’re the trespassers. Number three, a nine millimeter would barely even tickle a monster like that even if I was inclined to shoot, which I ain’t. And, yes, I own a pistol, and yes, I have a concealed carry permit, but I will never ever draw it unless my life is directly and immediately threatened to the point that I have no choice but to shoot to kill.”
“Oh,” she said. “I just meant scare him, but okay.”
“Easier ways to accomplish that.”
The wind shifted then, and a breeze blew up against our backs—and the bear immediately dropped to all fours, sniffing. He lumbered a few steps toward us, whuffling noisily, squinting at us nearsightedly. I felt Izzy trying to pull back as he neared us—he was twenty feet away now, and his true size was apparent. He wasn’t the tallest grizzly I’d ever seen, but he was huge.
Izzy was making a small, scared noise in her throat, pulling backward.
My gut was churning, my pulse hammering in my ears, my heart thudding fit to burst. I straightened, took a step away from Izzy, toward the bear.
“Ram—” she hissed.
“HEY!” I shouted. “Hey, WINNIE THE POOH!”
The bear grunted and reared up on his hind legs again, nose wiggling as he scented the air. He let out a long, low groaning growl, waving with a paw, head tilting.
“YEAH, YOU!” I shouted. “GET! GO ON!”
He snuffled again, growled, and then dropped heavily to all fours, lumbered in a slow circle, and ambled away down the trail; he stopped about a hundred feet away, turned back to look at us over his shoulder, and then angled off the trail and into the forest.
Once he was out of sight, I started laughing. “Holy shit!” I turned to Izzy, who was frozen in place, trembling, barely breathing. “Izz, did you fucking see that? He waved at me!”
She blinked at me as I walked over to her. “He—the bear—”
I laughed again, exhilaration rushing through me in a powerful high. “That was wicked!”
She shook her head as if to clear the fog. “You’re nuts,” she muttered. “Absolutely crazy!”
I laughed again, scrubbing my face with both hands. “Well, yeah. I used to jump out of an airplane into a wildfire for a living, so you’re not far wrong.”
“That bear was huge.”
“Sure was. I’ve seen taller ones from a distance, but that fucker was brawny—an absolute unit, as the kids these days say.”
She shook her head at me. “The kids say that?”
“I’ve heard it around.”
She finally let out a soft laugh. “That was incredible. I can’t believe he just walked away like that.”
“Me either. He legit waved at me!”
She looked at me as if I’d sprouted a second head. “You’re really amused by that, aren’t you?”
I cackled. “Fuck yeah, I am! A grizzly bear waved at me.”
She huffed. “Well, I’m glad you found that amusing. I think I may have peed a little.”
I rested against a nearby tree trunk, eying the dead tree the bear had been digging in—the cloud of bees were still swarming with a noisy, air-shivering hum. I gestured at the bees. “That could be an issue.”
She followed my gaze. “Oh…really?”
I watched them for a moment, and decided they were mainly focusing their attention in and around the tree, so if we skirted to the farthest opposite side of the trail and moved fast, they may not even notice us.
“Let’s just make a break for it,” I said. “Keep to the left and move quick.”
She shifted. “Is it stupid for me to be almost as afraid of the bees as I was of the bear?”
I chuckled. “Nah, there’s something inherently terrifying about a swarm of bees.” I gestured at the tree. “They’re calming down, anyway. It’ll be fine. Just hold to the edge of the trail and keep moving.”
I hiked my pack up, tightened the straps a touch, and then glanced at Izzy. “Ready, babe?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not even close.” Then, with a short sharp exhalation, she tightened her straps and said, “Let’s go.”
And just like that, she marched forward, hugging the left side of the trail. I shook my head in amazement at her ballsy bravado, and then followed right behind her. The bees hummed and buzzed, and a few darted overhead and around us, but for the most part they stayed near the tree, wanting only to get back to the business of making honey. We made it past the tree without issue, only a few isolated bees trailing after us.
And then Izzy yelped, darting forward with a weird shimmy to her step, twisting in place, screaming, and trying desperately to get out of her backpack. I shucked my pack in record time, snagged hers, unbuckled it, and hauled it off of her, letting it fall to the ground. She was yelping like a wounded puppy, dancing and twisting in place, tugging at the fly of her jeans.
“Izzy, Izzy, whoa!” I grabbed her by the arms and twisted her to face me. “What’s the problem!”
“BEE!” she screamed, tears in her eyes. “Bee in my pants!”
“How the fuck?” I muttered. “Is it still in there?”
“YES!” She was dancing out of my grip and trying to undo her pants at the same time.
“Hold still, dammit,” I said. “Let me help.”
She whimpered, but held still long enough for me to get her belt unbuckled, her fly undone, and then I peeled her jeans down her legs. She twisted in place, turning her backside to me. She was wearing pale blue cotton underwear, and there was a small lump inside her underwear against the skin of her right butt cheek.
I paused, glancing up at her. “It’s inside your underwear, Izz.”
“I DON’T CARE! JUST GET IT OUT!”
“You know, it’s a honey bee—it can only sting you once.”
“FUCK YOU, RAM! JUST GET THE FUCKER OUT!”
“All right, all right, I just didn’t want you to accuse me of copping a feel.”
I peeled her underwear down, and the poor little bee was stuck against her butt, the stinger’s barb hooked into her skin. It was still buzzing halfheartedly, but the little thing was squished.
Squished by the squishy…
I decided not to voice that particular joke.
I pinched the tips of my fingers around the bee’s body against her skin, feeling it flutter and buzz. I plucked it away and tossed it aside; I leaned close, peering at her skin where it had stung her.
She smelled of sweat and woman, making my heart flip in a weird way.
“Shit, the stinger’s still in there.”
She was breathing slowly out of her nose and mouth, calming herself. “I hate getting stung,” she muttered.
I chuckled. “No shit, babe.” I tugged my Bowie knife from the scabbard. “Okay, now hold still. Don’t move a goddamn muscle, okay? I’ve gotta scrape the stinger out, and all I’ve got is this big bitch here.”
She craned her neck to look over her shoulder, and saw me bringing the blade flat against the curve of her butt. “HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK? NO!”
“Babe—hold the fuck still.” I looked up at her. “Trust me.”
“Get that fucking sword away from me, you barbarian!”
“It’s a Bowie knife, number one. Number two, you want the stinger out or no?”
“Yes,” she muttered
.
“You have tweezers?”
“No.”
“Then hold still and trust me.” I grinned up at her. “You think I’d do anything to harm an ass as perfect as this?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Nice.”
I hesitated. “So, um…this is where I cop a feel. Just, you know…forewarning you. It’s necessary, though, so don’t try and hit me for it.”
Behold, the Promised Land. If she wasn’t in pain, and I wasn’t about to scrape a bee stinger out of her skin with a foot-long knife, I’d be springing major wood at having this big, round, juicy ass of hers in my face. As it was, though, I had to be something like professional about this. Or at least detach myself from my intense attraction to this woman.
The bee had stung her right butt cheek, right in the middle, and I was right handed, so in order to hold the skin taut, I had to use my left hand…which meant I had to cup the inside of her right butt cheek with my left hand. Niiiiice and intimate. Yikes. Holding the skin taut, I gently, gingerly, cautiously used the very edge of the blade to scrape downward, keeping the edge at an angle and moving perpendicular to her skin. I watched the stinger slide out of her skin. I sheathed the blade, scraping the stinger away with a fingernail and flicking it aside. The skin was reddened and swollen where she’d been stung.
She’d watched the whole process, and when I flicked the stinger away, she’d released an exhale of relief. I looked up at her, our eyes meeting.
I have absolutely no explanation for what came over me, then—no manly, masculine, macho way to rationalize what I did next.
I kissed her where she’d been stung, a gentle kiss right to the red and swollen center of her buttock.
Her breath caught.
“Ram…” she breathed.
I recovered from whatever had possessed me to do something so intimate and so personal and so tender, and I patted her bottom, and then gave both cheeks a hearty squeeze.
“There. All better.”
I could tell she was working through how she wanted to react—I expected her to slap me for the butt squeeze, or give me some kind of nasty, snarky reply.
What I didn’t expect was for her to twist in place. Her jeans and underwear were still down around her knees, leaving her entirely bare from waist to knee. She was as freshly shaven and waxed as I remembered her being. Tight, plump, pink little lips nestled between thick, strong thighs, with just the tiniest needle-thin gap of daylight between them. God, I wanted to…to…
Fuck it.
I curled my hands around the backs of her knees and slid them up her thighs to cup her ass; she bit down on her lower lip as I tugged her closer.
“Ramsey…” she murmured.
I kept my eyes on hers as I slowly brought my face closer and closer to her core. “Just…one…little…taste…” I whispered. “See if you’re as sweet as I remember.”
Her hands fluttered in the air above my head as I nuzzled my nose against her belly just above her core, brushing my mouth over her nether lips.
She huffed a breath, a whine, a whimper. “God, Ram…here? Now?”
I smirked up at her. “Ain’t nobody around ’cept just us bears.” I flicked my tongue against those tight plump little pussy lips. “You can tell me no.”
“Now you’ve got me started,” she muttered. “Might as well finish it.”
I rumbled a laugh. “Ain’t even gotten started, sweetheart,” I said. “You don’t want it, just say so.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, mouth falling open as I lapped up her seam. “You do not play fair, Ramsey Badd.”
“Nope.” I wiggled my tongue into the little keyhole at the top of her slit, flicking the tip of my tongue against her clit. “I got a taste of your sweetness a year ago, and I’ve been dyin’ for another ever since. But, like I said, you want to keep this platonic, all you gotta say is stop.”
She knocked my hat backward off my head and buried her fingers in my hair. “Don’t be a moron.”
A lick, a swirl, and she whimpered again. I caressed her ass with both hands and then brought them around in front, using my thumbs to open her up, suctioning my lips around her and flicking with my tongue in a quick light rhythm until she was gasping and writhing against my face.
“Ram…fuck.” Her eyelids were fluttering closed, her head tipped back, mouth open, hips thrust forward and grinding against my mouth. “How do I taste?”
“Like I want to spend every single second of my life eating you out,” I murmured.
“I’d be okay with that,” she said.
I could’ve made her come harder, faster if I’d used my fingers, too, but I was in no hurry, and didn’t want to leave her limp on the ground, as we still had half a day of hiking left before we made camp. This was just a little teaser preview of what I hoped she’d let me do to her later in my tent.
When her knees started buckling and her fingers knotted into my hair, I released the suction of my mouth and focused my efforts on the swirling of my tongue around the tight bud of her clit, faster and faster and faster until she was thrashing against me and whimpering like a trapped fox.
And then she came.
Her scream sent birds bursting from the canopy, and she flexed her hips forward in helpless thrusts. When she began to sag, I released her and stood up, catching her in my arms and holding her against me as she gasped.
“Holy….shit,” she whispered, pushing away from my chest. “How do you do that?”
I knelt in front of her again, tugging her underwear up and then her jeans, letting her button and buckle and adjust. “Do what?”
She wiped at my beard with a palm when I stood up, settling my hat back on my head. “Make me come like that with just your mouth.”
“It’s not me—it’s you,” I said. “You just have a hair-trigger orgasm.”
She shook her head. “No, not really. I don’t have trouble reaching orgasm, but I’ve never been able to get there as fast or as hard as the two times you’ve made me come.”
I felt pride swelling in my chest; her words made me feel about ten feet tall, made me want to smash my fists against my chest like King fucking Kong. Instead, I just shrugged.
“Well, let me just say that I have no fucking clue what’s going on with us, or what’s going to happen or not happen on this trip,” Izzy said, “but I have absolutely no qualms about letting you do that as many times as you want, because sweet Lord Jesus, Ram—that was…art.”
I grabbed her pack and lifted it in both hands, holding it out for her to back up into. “I might just take you up on that one, Izz.” I waited for her to accept the weight, and then I settled my own pack on my shoulders. “I don’t know what’s going on, either, just know I have zero expectations, okay?”
She laughed as she adjusted straps and tightened buckles. “No? No expectations at all?”
I shook my head as I set off down the path, licking my lips to relish the taste of her. “Nope. Expectations are for losers. Hopes, sure. Fantasies, sure. But I like to live in a little place called reality, and the reality of you and me is that we come from two totally different worlds. You’ve also made it exceedingly clear I’m not exactly your favorite guy.”
I was sort of fishing, at that point. I mean, she liked the way I could make her come, but liking me? A different story.
She caught up to me, hiking beside me in silence for a few minutes.
“Ram, I…” she said, cutting off with a frustrated sigh.
I glanced down at her. “You what, babe?”
The creek was widening and deepening, speeding up, becoming louder and closer. According to the map, I was pretty sure there was a bridge up ahead.
She didn’t answer immediately. “I may have possibly overstated the case, just a little bit.”
I let the silence hang yet again, for a few minutes. “Meaning?”
We rounded another curve, this one angling downhill toward the creek, and then the creek cut across the path, with a handmade wooden footbridge across it.
“Meaning, I don’t hate you.” She said this with a shy little smirk.
“You’re only saying that because I just gave you an orgasm.”
She shrugged and nodded. “There is that,” she said, as we paused at the bridge. “But you and I both know we’re each entirely capable of trading orgasms without it becoming anything personal. Actually liking the other person? That’s not always a given, you know?”
“You’re saying you wanna be fuckbuddies?” I asked, cutting over to the side of the bridge, where there was a small clearing.
I set my pack down and opened one of the compartments, digging out a few cans of fruit, some jerky, and a couple of protein bars.
Izzy took off her pack, set it beside mine, and sat down cross-legged on the grass, twisting to pop her back and stretch the muscles. She watched me closely as I opened the cans.
“Not necessarily,” she said, belatedly answering my question.
“So you don’t want to fuck.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t say that either. I just don’t necessarily want to be fuckbuddies.”
I fished a set of utensils from another compartment, stabbed a piece of fruit, and extended it to her; she leaned forward and took the bite without taking the fork from my hand.
“Then what do you want?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
I laughed at that. “I see. Helpful.”
She opened the package of jerky and slid out a stick, taking a bite of it. “And you know what you want, do you?”
I tilted my head to one side. “To some degree.”
Another few minutes of silence as we shared fruit, jerky, and protein bars, washing it down with water from our canteens. When the food was gone, Izzy lay back and let out a deep breath.
“What happened to catching fish?” she asked, watching a few wisps of clouds pass overhead.
I put away the garbage, rinsed the utensils in the creek, and secured my pack for travel, and then lay down on the grass next to her.
“No fire ring here, and it’d take time to catch, clean, and cook ’em. We’ll have fish for dinner. There’s a couple of nice campsites ahead, at miles four, and ten and a half. Depending on what kind of time we make, and how you’re feeling, we can stop at the first one at mile four, or we can keep trucking.”