Page 9 of Destined for the Mountain Man

“Not if you stay as close as you did last night,” I reply.

He smirks, takes a long drink of coffee, and nods, the corners of his mouth lifting as if he’s pleased by my response. Without another word, he moves toward me, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. Before I can react, his arms slide around me frombehind, pulling me flush against his chest. I feel the heat of his body through my clothes, his breath warm on my neck.

“You sure about that?” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear as he tightens his hold, making sure there’s no space between us.

I swallow hard, the proximity only intensifying the tension between us. "It feels good," I whisper, letting myself melt into his embrace, my body betraying the words I’m trying to hold back. He’s still hard for me, and the feeling of his cock against my ass sends a rush of warmth through me. I love the effect I have on him, but it’s too early for us to explore all the ways I could satisfy his hunger. For now, I’ll start with a simple cooked breakfast.

Grant leads me into the woods, points out different birds, we oil up the bird feeders and watch the squirrels try desperately to reclaim an easy meal and as bad as I feel for laughing, it’s fantastic.

He lets me try cutting wood with an ax, we talk as we walk through Aspenbrook, and when I keep brushing my knuckles over his, he finally takes my hand, and we get to move forward. He insists on treating me to takeout from his favorite spot, wanting to share his favorites with me. On the way back, we stop by the Aspenbrook Diner, where Ruby makes her famous blueberry pie, and grab two slices to go.

I insist on lighting the fireplace myself, making Grant chuckle, but he holds onto my skirt so I can’t fall into the fire, then pulls me closer as he rubs my sweater. He was right, I was way too cold in a nice top and my skirt.

“You used to talk a lot about your parents, but you stopped. Why?” He asks, leaning back before taking another wing from the plate and biting into it.

“Well, you get that they’re overbearing. I just ... I don’t want to sound ungrateful or anything like that. My dad cares about me but...” I trail off. It’s too awkward to really talk about.

Grant moves closer and holds out a wing. I narrow my eyes. “Is this one spicy?”

“Taste it and find out.”

I lick his fingers playfully to see if it’s hot and even though the sauce is sweet, the shine in Grant’s eyes is nearly feral. I take a slow, unsteady breath and bite into the meat. I get why this is his favorite.

Grant lets me talk around his question for a while, then he gently tugs my ankle, pulling me closer. “Charlotte, you’re a different person from them and what I know about them won’t change how I feel about you.”

My throat loosens a bit and I nod once. “They’ve always been quite protective, on the edge of controlling. It made dating ... difficult, made friendships difficult.”

“In college?” Grant shakes his head. “You have the tolerance of a saint.”

“I didn’t know any different,” I whisper, staring at my beer. “So, I ... I mean, not because of my parents, but because of those limits and not feeling like I could connect, I never ... I haven’t ...”

“Charlotte.”

“I’m a virgin,” I admit. “It’s not the kind of thing someone puts on a dating profile and I like being with you, I find you so attractive and I’m still ... nervous because I don’t know if I’m good at it.”

Grant doesn’t interrupt. He lets me ramble in circles, then pulls me closer. He wipes his hand on wet wipes, then cups my face, gently stroking my bottom lip with his thumb. “There’s no rush.”

“I know,” I whisper, but I still feel like I’m disappointing him.

“I want to kiss you. I want you, but we have time. There is no rush,” he says it so clearly, while gazing into my eyes, that there’s no denying he’s sincere.

I shudder under the weight of those words. I nod again and Grant leans in closer, his nose skimming mine. He exhales unevenly. “But if you want to start, when you’rereadyto start ... I’m right here.”

“Ok…” I breathe.

“Doyouwant to kiss me?” he whispers.

Nodding feels like the only possible answer. I’ve wanted to taste him since the moment I first saw his picture online.

Grant groans and kisses me. It’s soft and gentle, just a soft suck to my bottom lip. When I don’t pull away, he spreads his lips and licks along the seam of mine. I shudder and slowly open to him while gripping his shirt and pulling him closer.

I’ve wanted to feel him against me for the entire day and this morning was a tease. I slide one hand over his muscular chest, along the side of his neck, then into his hair, tugging him closer. He growls against my lips and licks deeper into my mouth, every stroke a renewed domination, something soft and welcome as he leads the heated, hungry make out session that makes me feel raw and exposed in a way I’ve never felt before. My core is melting and I just want more of him, want him closer, need nothing between us.

I feel how hard he is against my belly even though I don’t remember him getting between my legs. I know I’m wet and this isn’t anything close to the intensity I prepared for. Because it’s not supposed to be like in movies and books with him, but it is and I’m not ready for this level of intimacy. I can’t be ready for it, even if my clit is pulsing and my nipples are hard, my lips buzzing.

It’s too much, too soon. When he pushes my skirt up to my thigh, I gasp and draw back.

Grant slowly untangles us after looking over my face. He clears his throat and rubs over his beard. “Sorry about that, I got .. carried away.”

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