Jacked Read online

  JACKED

  LUCY WILD

  Contents

  Chapter One - Carrie

  Chapter Two - Jack

  Chapter Three - Carrie

  Chapter Four - Jack

  Chapter Five - Carrie

  Chapter Six - Jack

  Chapter Seven - Carrie

  Chapter Eight - Jack

  Chapter Nine - Carrie

  Epilogue - Jack

  ALSO BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  When Carrie hikes up into the mountains where I work, she's walking into trouble. I'm going to make sure she finds it.

  It's peaceful and quiet now but by tonight the air will be filled with her uncontrolled moans.

  I know exactly what's going to happen. She's about to be pinned under me, screaming my name. She just doesn't know it yet.

  This red hot read is crammed with insta-love, insta-lust and an alpha hero who knows just what Carrie needs from her rugged mountain man.

  © Copyright 2017 Lucy Wild

  All characters in this book exist only in the imagination of the author and bear no relation to anyone with the same name or names. They are not inspired by any individual and all incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part. Excepting in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without the express permission of the author.

  This book is intended for mature audiences and may contain explicit language and scenes which some readers may find disturbing.

  Sign up to my newsletter and get the novel, Don’t Touch, for free.

  Website

  Twitter: @misslucywild

  Facebook: lucywildromance

  Amazon: Author page

  Bookbub: Follow me

  Chapter One - Carrie

  The first thing I notice is the peace. I smile and then let out a little sigh of happiness. My smile fades almost at once as the ratcheting ear-splitting screech of a chainsaw echoes down the hillside towards me. Why today? I haven't been here in six years and the one time I want to head up the mountain, someone is out to ruin it for me.

  If I hadn't driven for two hours, I might not have minded so much. If this wasn't my last chance in God alone knows how long, I could have just turned around and gone back. I could have tried again another day.

  But if I don't get the house today, I'll be homeless. Then I'll have to sell the car and then I might never get a chance to come back this way. The noise dies then builds again. How dare they!

  Given an eviction notice on the anniversary of my mother's death. There was someone out there with a sense of humour about such things but it was all at my expense.

  I had been given one month to find somewhere new and time was running out. There aren't many places that'll take an unemployed project manager and her cat. No provable income and a pet. So while already job hunting like mad, I had to house hunt at the same time. Yesterday I got rejected for a flat with peeling wallpaper, mould in the kitchen and no window in the bedroom-cum-living room. I'd laugh if it weren't so tragic.

  Today is my last shot before I'm homeless. Evicted with nowhere to store my possessions. Sell the car and I might be able to pay for storage for at least a couple of weeks but what then?

  So with the stress weighing heavy on me, I took one last trip, a pilgrimage of sorts. I had an excuse. The place I'm going to look at is just the other side of the mountain, edge of the village where I grew up. An old house that's falling down with two liveable rooms inside. It'll do. It's that or the streets.

  I had the paperwork on the passenger seat, the eviction notice, the viewing details, the bank statements they'd want to see. I left it all there and got out at the car park, wanting just an hour of peace and solitude, a chance to remember Mum on the mountain where we used to walk together.

  Was that too much to ask?

  Apparently so as the noise of the chainsaw grew overwhelming. I set off up the path, the last of the autumn sun on my legs. It was warm enough to wear a skirt and strappy top, the heat on my skin the only pleasant thing about the stroll. I wanted birdsong and leaves rustling in trees. I got the roar of machinery and it was driving me mad.

  Around another corner and I saw him, chopping branches off a dying tree. "Can't you give it a rest!" I shout.

  He doesn't hear me of course. He's got a helmet with ear defenders. He's probably quite happy, can't hear a thing.

  I can't help myself. I storm over to him just as a chunk of tree thuds to the ground next to him. "Oi!" I say, waving my arms in his direction.

  At last he looks up, sees me, then puts the chainsaw down. He lifts the helmet from his face as I scowl at him. "Do you have to do that now? It's spoiling my walk."

  The scowl is already falling from my face. I find it hard to be cross with him glaring back at me. I cower almost at once. He runs his hand over his brow before standing up straight and stretching his back. He narrows his eyes as he looks me up and down, pulling off his gloves at the same time.

  I wince, ready for him to patronise me. It's happened many times before. Still he doesn't talk and I'm weakening further. He's tall, muscles that threaten to burst out of the arms of his shirt. Beard that doesn't hide the rugged face behind it. His trousers are slung low, a hint of skin visible when he stretches upwards again. As he does so, my eyes are drawn down to a flash of black hair, just a glimpse but enough to make me wonder what else is lurking down there.

  "Got to be done," he says at last and I realise I'm still staring down at his crotch. I look up and blush. "You know you're in the wrong clothes for a climb, right?"

  I scowl again, hoping to make him wither. He just looks amused. We talk for no more than a minute and he makes no attempt to apologise for the noise. In the end I give up and walk away with a muttered curse, marching up the hill as he continues to try and talk to me.

  "Watch out for the weather," he calls after me. "Fog's coming in." I ignore him, too angry to think about anything but getting as far away from him and that chainsaw as I can.

  Within a minute, the noise starts up and it only fades when I'm in sight of the top summit.

  I sit on a rock and look at the view, the distant hills fading as cloud begins to descend. I hate the fact he might be right, the weather could be getting worse. Already I'm cold, a breeze that wasn't there at the foot of the mountain is growing fast. I shiver, wrapping my arms around my shoulders as I think about Mum and me. We would sit here together after a climb that took forever, my feet aching, my head swimming. Then she'd feed me from the picnic in her rucksack and I'd be bursting with energy again.

  All our troubles fell away up here. I missed her. All of a sudden, the wound of losing her was fresh and raw.

  It had been four years since she'd died, two since my step-father had thrown me out of the family home, leaving me on the mercy of my contracts. Project managing was good work, until the recession hit and building stopped up and down the country.

  My savings were long gone. All I had was the car and the cat and my memories.

  I shiver again as the clouds roll in closer. The view is disappearing into grey, black in places as rain looks like it might start at any minute. I'll go back down soon. I just want a little longer in our place. If I don't get the house, I might never get to come back. This will be my last memory of the place.

  Chapter Two - Jack

  When she walked away up the track, two thoughts struck me at once. The first was that I'd love to lift that skirt of hers, yank down those panties and spank her little ass for speaking to me like that. The other was that she was going to freeze if she didn't turn around and head back down soon.

  She looked furious with me as if it was my fa
ult that the tree had been struck by lightning. She'd have been the first to complain if her darling Jocasta or Sebastian got hit by a falling branch. I knew her sort all right. They visit at the weekends usually, leaving their rubbish all over my beautiful mountain, they complain about getting lost but never thought to bring a map, they grumble about the mud and suggest without humour that we should tarmac a path up to the summit. I knew all about women like her.

  It didn't used to be this way. I inherited this land from my father and back in his day all we did was farm. Now I'm more of a park ranger than a worker, pointing people in the right direction, getting the brambles cleared away from the picnic areas, all the stuff I never thought I'd need to do.

  Chopping down a dead tree is just part of the job. What I didn't need was her coming yelling at me like she owned the damned place.

  I liked the look of her though. Standing there with that pout on her lips, expecting me to grovel before her. She'd be waiting a long time before that happened.

  I leaned back against my Land Rover and watched her heading up the hill, tempted to call her back just to see if she'd come. She had nice legs and I could stare at them all I wanted, picturing myself shoving them apart, plunging my fingers into her so I could taste her sweetness, burying myself inside her, rolling around on the damp grass, taking away that temper of hers.

  "Do you have to make so much noise?" she asked, like I was doing it just to irritate her.

  "Got a better way?" I ask and she just glares at me. "I mean, if you want to do it, be my guest." I hold the chainsaw out towards her but she still doesn't answer. "What's your name?"

  "Huh?"

  "Your name. You have a name, right?"

  "Carrie, not that I see why-"

  "I'm Jack and I've got a job to do. So, Carrie, why don't you head on up that hill and think about maybe being a bit more polite to people on your way down."

  She looks hurt and I think I've gone too far. Then she just turns and walks away. She seems on the verge of tears. I fight the urge to run after her and instead get back to work. By the time I'm done she's vanished from sight and my phone is ringing in the car.

  I walk over to pick it up, my mind filled with thoughts of Carrie, of how she'd look bent over the bonnet with me grabbing hold of her hips as I thrust into her, taking away all her tension.

  I shake the thought and hit the answer button. It's Alison and she's got news.

  "You haven't forgotten about this afternoon, have you?"

  She's a great assistant. I had forgotten, not that I admit it.

  "Of course not."

  "You wanted to run through the plans before they go for final submission. We've only got until four if they're going to be get back to us today."

  We had submitted proposals for a clump of holiday cabins up in the woods on the mountain. It had gone back and forth for months but today was the last chance to get permission secured before the deadline expired and we'd have to start again from scratch. I had the best people working for me but I had final say on what was sent over to the planning guys. I look at the time. Should be easy enough.

  "And don't forget we're going to need a spec putting out if we get a yes."

  "I'll work on it tonight for you. You think we'll get it?"

  "I've got a good feeling about this, Jack. No one's put more work in than you."

  "Bullshit. It was a team effort as you know."

  "Well, this team member is going for a drink if it goes through. Care to join me?"

  "I'll think about it."

  She's a great assistant but she's not my type. Plus I knew for a fact she was part of the pool that was seeing who could get me into bed. They were all going to lose their money. I don't mix work and pleasure. Or so I thought.

  "When do you think you'll be here, I'll get them all in ready?"

  "Give me a couple of hours."

  I ended the call and then began piling my stuff into the back of the car. As I pick up the chainsaw, I hear a rumble in the sky. Looking up I see the black clouds already coming in. The weather was due to turn. I'd just miss the storm if I headed downhill then.

  But as the first spots of rain hit my face, I think about Carrie. She was up on the summit and if it was spitting where I was, it would be hammering it down on her. She hadn't a rucksack or a jacket. She'd freeze up there.

  I did a mental calculation. The car couldn't go any higher. How long would it take her to get back down? As I thought, the rain grew heavier. She'd not make it, the clouds were becoming thick, fog growing around me. Another few minutes and the trails would vanish. It would be all too easy to get lost in such conditions.

  I'd had to help mountain rescue a few times in the past when people had gone missing. It all looked so safe from the sunshine in the car park. But I knew from experience how fickle my mountain could be. It was a dangerous place if you didn't know what you were doing and she didn't know what she was doing.

  I grabbed the overcoat off the passenger seat before slamming the boot closed. Leaving the car there, I turn to face the ascent, narrow my eyes against the rain, and begin to climb.

  Chapter Three - Carrie

  I'm an idiot. I do my best to blame him as I stop once again and look about me for any hint of a landmark.

  It's difficult to control the growing sense of panic as I stand shivering in the thick fog. I had started my descent from the mountain top with the weather closing in and within minutes I can see no further than five or six feet in front of me. The dampness in the air clings to my skin, my clothes get colder, making me shiver uncontrollably as I pick up the pace, half jogging, half stumbling down, squinting in the gloom to try and see anything I recognise.

  I stop dead as I realise I'm hopelessly lost. I try to think. When was the last time I saw something I recognised? It was at least ten minutes ago. I try to head back up the way I came, hoping to find the trail again. Instead I climb for only a minute before I'm descending once again. This isn't right.

  There's a shrub to my left, then a pile of stones with the remains of a sheep next to them, a few flecks of wool and a yellowing skeleton. Is that what will happen to me?

  Don't panic, I tell myself as I yawn loudly. I feel tired all of a sudden. I want to rest. Just a little rest. Just for a minute.

  I sit on a rock and shout, "Help!" at the top of my voice.

  The sound is deadened by the fog. There is no response.

  I used to know this mountain so well. But then I was with my mother. She led the way, I just followed. And we never went up in thick fog.

  I curse Jack. Somehow this is his fault. If he hadn't warned me about the weather, I'd not have been so stubborn as to ignore the warning signs of the clouds rolling in. It's his fault.

  Somewhere down in the valley, he was probably still chainsawing. I listen carefully. Nothing but the wind. He'll be somewhere warm and safe, unlike me.

  I'm shivering so hard, it hurts my head. I can't keep still as I yawn again.

  I grew up around here. Am I going to die here? Don't be silly. You're over reacting. I try to reassure myself but instead I just feel heavier, in mind and in body.

  I walk a little further, my legs are made of stone, refusing to shift more than a couple of inches, lead weights in my shoes. Goosebumps coat every inch of exposed skin and I can no longer feel my fingers.

  My eyes are heavy. I need to rest again. Just for a minute. I sit, then slump to the ground, no longer feeling the damp through my skirt.

  I hug my hands around my knees and then lean against the rock beside me. My eyes close. Everything stops.

  I wake up with a jolt, blinking as I try to work out what's going on. I'm inside something. There's someone next to me. They're saying something. I fall asleep again.

  I wake up to the feel of a pair of hands tugging at my top. I slap the hands away and sit bolt upright. I can't focus, the image in blurry. I blink and look closer. It's Jack. He reaches for my top once more and I slap his hands away. "Get off me," I cry, my words slurr
ed.

  "That's fine," he replied. "You're real smart. I'll just wait until you pass out again and then get your wet things off you, shall I?"

  "What?" I mumble, my eyes already closing.

  "Stay with me," he says, putting his arms around my shoulders, pulling me towards him. I can feel his heat. It's like a radiator pressed against me and I lean on it like a cat. I want to purr. It feels so good.

  "Come on," he says, shaking me slightly. "We need to get those wet things off you."

  "You can't," I say, not wanting to move, not wanting to do anything.

  "You're dangerously cold," he says and for the first time I hear the whir of heating. I'm in a car. I'm in his car. How did that happen? I feel a coat being pulled from my shoulders and I pout as cold hits me again, the shivering returning.

  "Arms out," he says and I obey meekly, too tired to complain any longer. He tugs my top off, tossing it aside before wrapping the coat back around my shoulders. "Skirt too," he says. "Lift your hips a little."

  I feel metal against me and look. It's the tip of his chainsaw poking through from the back space behind the seats. I look at it and wonder if he's going to kill me. For some reason the thought makes me giggle. I feel my skirt being tugged off and it takes me a second to realise he's taking my panties with it. "What are you doing?" I ask.

  "You're freezing," he replies, pulling me towards him again. "Don't move, let me warm you."

  He rubs my legs vigorously and they tingle as they start to come back to life. I look at him but he's busy looking down, a picture of concentration.

  "I'm sorry," he says and I frown.

  "What for?"

  "For letting you go up the mountain in that. I should have stopped you."

  "That's not your f...f...fault," I stutter as I start to shiver again. He draws me closer to him. "How did you find me anyway?"

  "I got to the summit and you weren't there. I thought you'd maybe got past me in the fog and were already back down but then I heard you shout. You'd wandered off towards the moor. If you hadn't have shouted..." His voice faltered before he continued. "Anyway, by the time I found you, your lips were blue and you were out cold. I got my coat round you and carried you back down here."