Broken Trails

Bra?

As Scotch’s lips left her ear, unerringly moving across Lainey’s sweaty brow and toward her lips, Lainey came fully awake. This was no dream. Her eyes popped open in surprise.

Scotch’s body undulated over hers, and the rush of lust that assailed Lainey nearly made her swoon. Had she been standing she surely would have fallen down. A long neck was just within reach, and looking further along, she had an excellent view of breasts begging for attention. Her nose twitched with the smell of their combined excitement and another, more earthy odor. It was vaguely familiar and her dazed mind sputtered along in an attempt to name what it was. Scotch’s lips edged closer, kissing the bridge of her nose, angling down. Lainey licked her lips in anticipation, tasting what could only be described as a cat box in her mouth.

Reality slammed into her, fully waking her. That odd aroma was hers - unwashed for days on end. And her mouth was a literal sewer. She had not done more than pop breath mints since Sunday’s restart in Wasilla.

“Ugh!” Lainey turned her face away, pushing Scotch aside so she could sit up.

“What?”

Lainey swung her legs from the bed and shook her head, her body demanding to return to its previous activity, hygiene be damned. She glanced over her shoulder to see Scotch’s concern. “I need a shower. I need to brush my teeth for a week.” A confused and slightly hurt expression crossed the woman’s face, and Lainey turned abruptly toward her. “No! I meant I’m a mess! Not that you’re a turn off.” Her eyes ran across more skin than she had ever been allowed to see before, and her body once more demanded satisfaction. “You’re definitely not a turn off.”

Scotch’s smile was slow and sexy, doing nothing for Lainey’s restraint. “You’re no slouch in that department either, Miss Hughes.” She ran her fingers from Lainey’s shoulder to her hand.

The feather light touch caused Lainey to shiver, though she was over warm, both from desire and being indoors after days on the trail. “You’re a cruel woman.”

“I hear it’s one of my redeeming qualities.”

Lainey laughed and took her hand. “Not at this moment.”

Scotch shrugged. “You win some, you lose some.” She squeezed Lainey’s hand. “There’s a bathroom right across the hall, with a shower kit for you to use. Why don’t you catch a shower, we’ll have some breakfast, and go check on the dogs.”

She sighed at the return to business as usual. “I can’t wait to get you in Nome,” she said.

“We’ll see who gets who,” Scotch answered, her grin turning mischievous. She released Lainey’s hand. “Go on, get cleaned up. Molly said she has the fixings for French toast in the kitchen. I’ll get breakfast started.”

Lainey realized it was still quite dark and the house held an elusive stillness that was associated the wee hours. The digital clock said it was three AM, which meant she had slept seven hours straight. “Okay,” she said, standing. She stretched and groaned at the pleasurable pain of her muscles.

“And you call me cruel,” Scotch said.

Smirking, Lainey located the clothes she came in with and her clean things. “Paybacks, you know.”

Scotch murmured wry agreement as they got dressed. Before they left the room, she stood before Lainey and kissed her on the forehead. “When your teeth are brushed, I’m going to get that kiss. That’s a promise.”

Lainey hugged her. “I’m glad you have a reputation for keeping your promises.”

They broke apart, and Scotch led her to the bathroom, leaving her at the door with a slightly regretful air. Lainey sighed, resigned, and stepped inside. She switched on the light and stared wide eyed at her reflection. Her dark hair, always a bit unruly, stuck up in clumps of greasy tangles. The skin of her face and hands were wind burned and reddened, in stark contrast to her forearms, which held little of her summer tan.

She blushed. Scotch had seen her like this! How totally … disgusting! It was worse than the fetidness of her breath. This was a physical manifestation of her grubby feeling. “Ugh,” she muttered, setting her clothes on the counter. A bath towel and washcloth were folded there with a toothbrush still in its plastic wrap. Sticking out of a glass jar were a variety of combs, brushes, and odds and ends, and another of cotton swabs. Lainey gave herself one more distasteful once over, and went to the shower. It took some adjusting as she tested the water. Turning the knob to what she thought was a normal temperature resulted in blistering heat. She fiddled for some time before her cold acclimated skin allowed her to step in.

The shower was magnificent. Lainey felt days of strain and grime sluicing down the drain. Her hair particularly nasty, she washed it three times before she was satisfied. Her body still throbbed with want and she wished Scotch would forget breakfast and join her. Regretfully, she did not. Not one to deny herself, Lainey leaned against the wall under the spray of warm water, and brought herself to quick climax. She gasped at the strength of her orgasm, almost losing her balance, as the sensation rolled over her. God, what would it be like with the real thing?

With the edge taken off her arousal, she finished washing and climbed out of the shower. Her mirror image was clear and crisp, no steam fog clouding her view, and she nodded to her reflection. The water had been cooler than she normally enjoyed.

She stepped forward for a closer examination. There were bruises on her left side from the sled crash, though not too dark and dangerous looking. Her hands and face were red and a bit chapped from the constant exposure. Her feet looked well enough; she changed socks and liners regularly to combat trench foot or some other disease. All in all, she was pleased to note she was in decent shape to continue on. She combed out her hair, and then brushed her teeth in blissful relief before dressing in clean clothes.

Gathering her belongings, Lainey eased the bathroom door open to a dark hallway. Across the way was the bedroom she and Scotch had shared. To her left, the hall glowed with distant light, and she could make out the end of a couch. The kitchen was that way. She turned off the bathroom light, dropped her things in the bedroom and eased down the hall. Her nose twitched at the smell of coffee and the promised French toast, and her stomach rumbled.

The living room was small and tidy but had a cozy feel to it. A quilt wrapped body lay on the sagging couch. She remembered sitting there a few hours ago with a dinner that looked delicious though she barely recalled eating it. Lainey heard a muttering snore emit from its depths, identifying the individual as her colleague, Howry. She almost tripped over another bundle curled up on the floor by the fireplace - Strauss. Lainey wondered where the others were. She did see Thom and Rye, right; not hallucinations brought on by seeing Helen at the checkpoint?

Soft voices beckoned her, and she continued past Strauss, through a tiny dining room and into the brightly lit kitchen.

Scotch sat at a small wooden table, nursing a cup of coffee. A woman stood at the stove, spatula in hand, poking at a slice of bread in the fry pan she held. Lainey recognized her as their host, but a sudden sharp stab of hunger overcame her. She struggled with her body’s baser instincts, leaning against the door as she forced her mind to work. “You must be Molly,” she finally said, attaching a name to the woman’s face.

The woman smiled. “Yes, I am,” she said. “I’m surprised you remember.”

Lainey blushed and shrugged. “So am I.”

Molly laughed. “Have a seat. Breakfast is almost ready. Scotch, get her a cup of coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Scotch grinned and winked at Lainey, waving her to a seat at the table before following orders.