Page 9 of Stolen By the Mountain Man

He didn’t say anything after that. Naked? Beautiful? Horrendous?

My mind decided on the first two. The appreciation in his stare told me I was right about that. He then looked around as though trying to figure out where to set the bowls.

“I thought we could play some golf,” I said. “Maybe you could give me a lesson.”

I turned toward the hall, my entire body trembling. My legs were threatening to give out, but I somehow managed to stay upright. I had to look like this was no big deal. Like I was a twenty-seven-year-old who’d been down this road before. Like I knew what I was doing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac move. He set the bowls on the counter of the tiny kitchen. At least that’s what I assumed. He was behind me so I couldn’t see it, but I heard the bowls hit the counter with a clank.

I wondered what he’d made for dessert. Ice cream with chocolate syrup would be my guess. Something basic. That would fit the bachelor theme.

But it wouldn’t go with the weird comment he’d made at the lodge about trying to impress me. No man had ever tried to impress me before. Not a man I liked, anyway. I’d never be able to express how much that meant.

Or maybe I could. I was standing naked in his basement, after all.

I heard footsteps on the concrete floor behind me, but then they stopped. “Should I take off my clothes too?” he asked.

I shook my head, my hands gripping the golf club so hard, I was sure the handle was leaving an indentation in my palms. “Not yet. You’re my teacher, remember?”

Was this role-play? People were into that, right? It seemed like it from the books I’d read and the stuff I’d seen online. Butwas role-play necessary for a first time? Probably not. It was giving me confidence, though, so I’d stick with it.

“Your stance is all wrong,” he said. “Your legs should be farther apart.”

“You’ll have to show me.”

My voice sounded hoarse. My throat was dry. But it had nothing to do with dehydration. No, I’d had plenty of water at the restaurant to offset the alcohol I drank.

This was sheer nervousness. It was my first time. Nervousness was normal.

I didn’t hear his footsteps this time, but I felt him move closer to me. I pictured him in the white shirt and dark jeans he’d worn to dinner. I had a feeling those were his fancy date clothes. He looked hot as hell in them.

I widened my stance a little, but then I felt his hands on my hips. “A little more,” he said. “And you’re going to want to angle your body this way.”

He nudged my right hip backward, and I scooted, my eyes still closed as I savored his touch. It sent warmth and moisture directly to my pussy, which was aching for his touch.

“You’ll want to square off your shoulders too,” he said.

He moved his hands up my waist and around the outside of my knees. Then he went around my back and up to my shoulders, gently nudging them so I was standing up straighter.

His hand ran down my left arm as he showed me how to swing, and it occurred to me he was actually doing this. He was walking me through golfing techniques. That wasn’t exactly what I’d intended.

“And swing,” he said.

I did just that, connecting with the ball way too hard. It slammed into the painted concrete wall and flopped back down to the ground, rolling practically all the way back toward me.

“Yeah, maybe not quite that hard,” he said. “Here, I’ll show you.”

I thought for a second he might step away and demonstrate what he meant, but he pleasantly surprised me by running his hand down my arm again. He was putting my golf club back into position, but his touch was doing things to me.

There was no ball on the tee, so we were just swinging for air, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was his hands on my forearm, his arms wrapped around me as he helped me make a slow swing.

I should turn around. That was my thought as the club made it all the way to the left. I was facing that direction now, and his face was within inches of mine. If I turned, we’d be kissing in a matter of seconds.

I wanted to kiss this guy more than I wanted my next breath.

But instead, he stepped back a little. “Got it?”

I nodded, disappointment surging through me. He stepped forward and grabbed the ball, setting it on the tee, and came back to stand behind me.

---