Lost Creek Hollow it's the only way for me

Surprise colored her beautiful face. Her head tilt was angelic.

There she is.

The mask trickled away like cotton candy in the rain. That meek, shy façade. A saccharine cloud to coat the sourness beneath. His body shuddered at her touch, at the ease in which she commanded him. Where had the coyness gone? He didn’t care. She didn’t have to pretend around him.

Right away, he promised, his voice smoldering, slow as lava. Rest those travelworn paws. I will return to you.

He took up an easy trot, confident and unhurried, and disappeared from view.

***

He would return a while later, practically strutting, with his metaphorical hard-on taking the form of a long-bodied stoat dangling from his jaws. Over the scent of fresh prey, he could not yet tell if she had remained or not.