Every once in a while, you need to get away from it all.
I was a woman on the edge, shaken and shattered after a breakup that felt like it tore my entire world apart.
My best friend, sick of watching me drown in misery and melancholy, harassed me until I agreed to go with her on a week-long wilderness retreat.
She promised days spent bonding and getting in touch with our inner bad-asses. It was supposed to be all about the two of us roughing it and making do with the bare minimum. She assured me we were going to be pushed to our limits in ways that were unimaginable. Neither one of us could have ever guessed just how right she was.
Nowhere in the glossy brochure did it say anything about the fact I was going to have to battle the insufferable but deliciously rugged and sexy trail guide instead of the elements. The brochure also forgot to mention the part that warned when y
ou left civilization behind, there was no place to pack your inhibitions and fears.
I was told that I would be facing a week where the only thing I should expect was the unexpected. However, no one mentioned that I was going to have to fight for my life…and my heart as soon as I ventured into the unknown.
I was a pro at hiding from my feelings but when it came time to face a real threat, one that could change everything, I learned I was more of a no surrender, no retreat kind of girl.

Retreat is created by Jay Crownover, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author. 

Retreat.

Chapter 18: Not So Squeaky Clean Part 3     


Pleasure looked rough on him. It made the veins on the side of his neck stick out and flushed his face a dark shade of red. His thigh muscles bulged and his torso went tight and taut. There was power in every line of his big body and desire leeched out of every part of him. His breathing was harsh, loud, and erratic against the tin walls. I swore I was on the verge of my own orgasm simply by watching him chase his own. His cock slipped easily in out of his grip as his forearm jacked up and down. There was a breathless moment, a stillness when his eyes popped back open and met mine. He didn’t say my name but it was on his lips anyway as the thick and creamy threads of his release jetted out and smeared across his thick knuckles and hit the rusted wall in front of him. 
