Page 21 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

Even so, I can't believe that Lennon and Dean think there's any chance whatsoever of me staying away from her, because they've decided that's what they want. Even if I am trying to do as they have asked, which I'm not, I don't think I would succeed in giving her a wide berth like they demand.

Dean likely knows it too, which is why he doubled my workload today, so I wouldn't have time to bother our pretty new neighbor. Jokes on him though, because my horniness strongly overpowers my laziness, and I found a way to make the time to see her anyway.

Sure, I had to pay off a couple of the ranch hands to take over some of my workload for me, and yeah I actually had to up my usual, slow-but-steady-wins the-race level of effort to something more akin to a sprint-to-the-finish-line style of working, but it was worth it. Oh yes!

I woke up earlier than normal this morning feeling pumped, and I got to it straight away. Between this, the helpful ranch hands (albeit at a cost) and the hell-for-leather pace I set myselftoday, I've managed to finish everything in plenty of time to go over to her cabin to talk to her. And to prove that the angels are on my side, just as I complete my last task, I see her car pull up outside her cabin and watch her get out and stretch that fine, lissome body of hers, the sunlight outlining the womanly shape of her body through her dress, making me catch my breath with desire. Unbidden, my cock starts to rise, straining uncomfortably against my jeans. I swallow hard, ignoring the pain in my groin and the knot of tension in my stomach.

A quick shower, a dab of my never-fails aftershave, then on with fresh boxers (newish ones, I checked, because, well you never know, right?), my best jeans, a simple, blue cotton shirt with the first two buttons left open to display my manly chest, cowboy boots. Ten minutes well spent, I think to myself, but I don't want to delay any longer, because I would hate to lose this opportunity to catch her on her own.

I hop across from our property to hers by the simple expedient of stepping over the fence, and I bound up the steps to the little cabin, taking them two at a time, my mind already in fifth gear, anticipating the evening ahead. Step One will be to get rid of whoever the visitor is whose brand new SUV is parked outside. Probably a contractor about the electrics or something. Then, a playful conversation at first, but if I play my cards right, much more to follow… However, what I hear when I get to the half-open door is an all-too-familiar, goddamn irritating male voice coming from within.

The door is open enough for me to see them talking. I hear only random snatches of their conversation against the noise of the wind in the treetops and the calls of the waterbirds out on the lake, but it's enough for all traces of good humor to instantly vanish from my mind.

"I'll give you twenty thousand dollars for it. Why that's nearly a thousand dollars an acre—good money! What do you say?"

Over my dead body.

Victor Sinclair is a snake. Worse, he's a snake that doesn't look like a snake. He looks all affable and has this 'friendly old grandfather' thing going on, with his southern twang, his gentlemanly manners, and the fact that he dresses like every generic cowboy that ever lived. We kinda fell for it when we first moved here. Well, everyone but Dean, who is much better at reading people than Lennon or me.

Dean told us he was up to something, especially when he kept coming over and sending his men to 'help us' get set up. Dean would send them away each time, telling them he didn't need the help even though at that point we were pretty much drowning in work.

And while we thought that Dean was being a paranoid fucker it turned out that every single thing he'd suspected about the man was true. He was indeed trying to sabotage our business and steal our clients and he'd been doing it for a while. Dean went over and threatened him—basically scared the bejesus out of him so he would stop. Nevertheless, he hasn't stopped his more subtle, petty-ass territory wars, and from the tail-end of this conversation he's having with Hailey, seems like he's still looking to expand his farm.

This time it looks like he's set his sights on grabbing Hailey's land.

When she resists, he starts to get pushy about it, so I take that as my cue to come in and tell him to get lost.

Now she's ranting at me, though I'm not sure why. I'm not sure I particularly care why either.

She sure looks pretty when she's mad.

She stops talking instantly, and stares at me like I've lost my mind. "Did you just say that I look pretty when I'm mad?"

Shit… I must have said that last part out loud. Get a grip of yourself, Reed…time to play it cool.

I shrug. "Well, you do. Very pretty."

She seems flabbergasted for a second, and then she says, "Newsflash buddy. That's the exact kind of line that you shouldn't use on a woman who's ranting at you."

"It wasn't a line. Actually, I'd kinda meant to just think it to myself. It kinda slipped out."

"Uh-huh." She doesn't look like she believes me at all. In general terms it's smart of her not to, even if it happens to be true on this one occasion. "Don't bother trying to play innocent with me. I know your type."

"Which is?"

"Certified panty dropper. A 'player'. Lies as easily as he breathes."

She's not wrong. I shrug. "Guilty as charged. I'm not going to deny I want to get in your panties. Desperately."

Her face heats up as my eyes drop to her lips. "I want to get in your mouth too. I want you in my mouth. I want to taste you, devour you. I want to watch your eyes roll back as I drive you to bliss, unlike anything you've ever imagined."

Her breath passes through her parted lips in shock. She doesn't seem to know what to say next, standing there staring at me, her slightly parted, pink lips tempting me beyond measure.

Fuck, sometimes it's as simple as telling the truth. I do want to taste her, for real. I step forwards, my head falls to capture her lips in mine—but she holds out her hand to stop me.

"Wait." She shuts her eyes and inhales sharply through her nostrils, before meeting my gaze once more. "Stop. We can't do this."

"Why not?" My body is already thrumming with need, my cock continuing to throb and chafe underneath my jeans. Damn it, things are getting urgent down there!

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