The Hunting Lodge
by Tasamin

The tall leafy trees created a canopy high above where the sunlight was allowed to peek through, creating pools of light on the forest floor. Walking quietly in the hush of nature, she followed him without saying a word. He was not one for many words once he stepped foot on his land, preferring to enjoy the solemnity of nature that was there for someone who chose to appreciate it.

 Yet in her case what she chose to appreciate was the fine specimen that nature decided to put in front of her taking her to his hunting lodge. It was the one of two things he fought for in the divorce, the other being his motorcycle. Michel Gagné, the wild thing, and he was hers for the weekend. That brought a smile to her face; she'd jumped at the chance to spend the weekend with him. So keeping an eye on the jean clad posterior that was strutting with ease, a twig snapping underneath his feet did not deter him.

He paused, offering her a bottle of water. She waved it away; she was not thirsty. He shook his head at her as he opened the bottle. Tilting his head back, exposing that strong neck, he took a swig. She watched as his throat gulped the water. Trickles of water made trails down his neck marking places she would like to explore. She gulped unintentionally and when he finished she stepped closer, taking in his musky scent mixed with soap, with a hand extended. Suddenly she was feeling quite thirsty. Handing it over with a smile he said, "It's not that much further." Nodding and then sipping the water she looked around knowing she could get quite lost on her own. Finally finished she handed it over to him. "For a girl who was not thirsty a minute ago, you certainly drank a lot." He teased her as if knowing what brought the sudden drought in her throat.

 "Shouldn't we get going?" she said in an attempt to change the subject. "We don't want to be out here in the dark." He walked around her and she tilted her head to keep him in view, he leaning in and whispered huskily in her ear, "Why, the wolves come out at night. You might have fun." The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

 Taking her hand they walked together the last mile to the lodge, surrounded by trees not electricity, no modern accoutrements in sight. It was as if she had been transported back to a time when things were simpler but she knew there was a lot more work involved. Suddenly a thought hit her; she had never cooked on an open flame before in her life. "Michel, umm no electricity right?" A mischievous twinkle filled his eyes as he saw the look of trepidation. "What, you cannot live without your blow dryer?" he teased. "No, not at all. Since you invited me I am your guest and not a single worry should fill my head. No cooking, no nothing for me to do this weekend but enjoy nature." At that statement his eyes grew wide for she knew that he was not that good of a cook but he was not going to admit that to her. "Let's get inside."

 He opened the door to a large living room with a kitchen towards the back and it had a bedroom off to the left. It was cozy and perfect for an intimate weekend. "Its lovely." They set about storing the food they had brought with them and their gear. "So when do we eat around here?" she said, not quite willing to let him off the hook yet. Michel looked around the kitchen, then it seemed something had inspired him. Putting his hands on her back he shooed her out. "I'll fix something. You wait outside." Walking out to the wide wraparound porch the lodge had she sat down on the swing made out of rough hewn logs. Moving her legs she began to swing softly in the afternoon light. She could hear Michel still tinkering inside. "Need any help?" "No," came the quick response and the sound of a potting clashing with the floor.

Minutes passed when he finally stepped out carrying a metal tray with a fondue pot on top. A scent assaulted her senses; it was the unmistakable smell of warm chocolate. Placing the tray with a smile on the table in front of her and taking the skewer he pierced a strawberry and dipped it in the warm chocolate. He offered it to her. Being no fool she bit into the mixture of fruit and chocolate. Sighing in contentment she tilted her head back. "That is wonderful." He stared at her intensely. She immediately sat up, "What? Do I have chocolate on my face?" Not saying a word he leaned forward. Cupping her cheek in his palm, he came closer. Her heart began to trip frenetically against her rib cage. The briefest touch of his tongue swiped away a speck of chocolate at the corner of her mouth.

Just as quickly as he was there he was gone. After gaining a modicum of control she thought two could play at that game. Grasping a skewer she offered a morsel of chocolate and strawberry to him, her hand underneath ready to catch any falling drops of the dark elixir. Michel took the berry in his mouth and savored it. His verdant eyes never losing contact with hers, she felt herself being pulled into the hidden depths that lay in the sea of green. Swept under and over by what she found there, the unexpected touch of his hand touching her wrist made her gasp in surprise. Pulling at her wrist he brought her palm to his mouth where he cleaned the droplets of chocolate that had fallen there.

 That was it; she had lost her voice to the maelstrom of passion he was bringing forth in her. In this intimate setting where there was not a soul for miles it was a paradise on earth. His hair was almost golden in that fading afternoon sunlight. His fingers slowly ascended her arm; she was sure leaving traces of electricity behind, to brush her cheek lightly. Soft lips finally met hers. Her arms wrapped around him bringing him closer and feeling the racing of his heart against hers, knowing he felt the same. He took her in his arms and placed her on his lap. Pulling away from her lips with a regretful moan he said, "Hungry?" With a shy smile she said, "Starving, of course." "Good, for I am as hungry as a wolf." He surprised her by lifting her up into his arms and carried her into the cabin… The End

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