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They don’t need to worry about their little ones not going out alone. They’re safe whether or not they stay in groups while trick-or-treating.
No, we don’t hurt children. Besides, my good girl has given me more than enough to do tonight. And who knows, maybe it’ll result in our own trick-or-treater not so far in the future.
Charlotte brings me out of my thoughts. She shifts as if uncomfortable, but the look she sends the radio tells me it’s the topic that makes her uneasy, not my massive erection that is desperately trying to find its way inside her.
Her body faces forward, her legs hanging on either side of mine.
“Wow, I didn’t hear about any murder from the other counselors.”
“Murders,” Michael corrects.
“What?”
“Murders, plural. There have been a few over the years. And a few hikers who have apparently been victims of a bear.” He smirks, like the idea is ridiculous.
“Bears and murders? I’m so glad I agreed to come.”
“You’re in Idaho now, Charlotte. There are many scary things in these woods,” Michael tells her.
He’s baiting her, I think, but I growl when she tenses because while what my brother says is true, the only thing my girl needs to worry about in these woods . . . is me.
Michael gives a dark laugh. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It seems you have your own bear now.”
Charlotte settles back against me, and I can feel the exhaustion that flows through her. Dropping a kiss on the crown of her head, I silently give her permission to rest.
She’s content to just lay here, and her body molds into mine. My right hand wanders down and rests on top of her thigh while my left lazily guides the truck, my elbow on the window ledge. And at this moment, Charlotte isn’t the only one that feels content.
Returning Michael’s smile, I kiss the top of her head again as we pass the turnoff for Cromwell campgrounds.
Quicker than I would like, we’re turning off the side road that leads to my parents’ cabin. A few miles farther, I turn onto the small, unused road that leads to the campgrounds from the back, where no one can see us since we’re miles away from the main road and where none of the camp security cameras have coverage.
I don’t want to wake her, but just as those thoughts pass through my mind, Charlotte moves.
She’s awake. Maybe she has been the entire time. It thrills me to think she trusts me enough not to question me when she had no idea where I was driving us.
I have never cared if someone followed me without question, but now, I find her blind trust is not only something I want but need.
Reluctantly, I shove the truck door open.
“Come,” I encourage, helping her slide off my lap and onto the ground.
Her earlier bravado is gone, and my shy girl is back. And this side of her is mine. With her friends, she was loud and dominant. But standing here with her gaze down, watching her restless feet, she is the submissive that I crave.
With a steady finger under her chin, I force her eyes to meet mine. “I’ll come for you,” I tell her. The words sound every bit of the threat they are.
Her nod is small, unconvinced.
“I’ll come,” I tell her again.
This time, I watch as the side of her mouth hitches up.
“You better.”
I nod for her to head inside. The weather is turning. The sky has darkened, and the clouds are moving in. A thrill rolls over me again at what sounds and sights the darkness will hide tonight.
“Don’t open the door to anyone tonight,” Michael calls out as I start the truck. “You never know if it’s a trick or a treat.” He winks.
“I’m sure we can handle some kids looking for candy.” She laughs off, backing toward the main cabin. “Just don’t snitch to the townies that we’re here.”