Page 24 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

None of this is doing any favors for my growing erection.

We stop in front of the dresser and I dig a shirt out of one of the drawers. It’s a little shorter than the last one, so I’m not completely sacrificing my view over breakfast. Abby tugs it over her head, letting it fall into place over her hips.

Breakfast is a repeat of yesterday, and pretty much every day before that – eggs and toast. I usually have bacon as well, but I didn’t make it to the store before the storm hit. Abby finds some apples in the fridge and slices them up to add to our plates. When we sit down, Abby glances out the window.

“The rain’s let up a little,” she says.

“Yeah, the road should be dried up enough to get out of here tomorrow if it stays this clear.”

Abby doesn’t respond. She turns her attention back to her plate and nibbles absentmindedly at the apples. The rest of breakfast is quiet. The sound of rain drizzling in the background holds our attention. It’s like listening to a bag of popcorn in the microwave; we’re hyperaware of each little noise because we know that when it stops, we’re done here.

When we finish eating, Abby takes both of our plates over to the sink and rinses them off. I can’t help but stare as she bends ever so slightly over the counter to wash the plates. The shirt I gave her rides up just enough to expose the bottom curve of her ass. She catches me staring and shoots me a knowing smirk.

I make a mental note to fuck her on that counter before she leaves.

The cabin is a mess. Wet towels line the floor near the entrance, muddy footprints end just beyond that where both of our shoes sit, and the rest of our clothing from last night is strewn about.

“I should get this place cleaned up,” I say, starting to stand, but Abby is making her way back from the kitchen with a look in her eye.

“Good idea,” she says, “but I have an even better one.”

Her hand lands on my shoulder. It’s not nearly enough pressure to make me sit back down, but I take her hint and do so anyway. Abby crawls into my lap, straddling me. The shirt rides up around her hips. The bare skin between her legs cradles my erection. She tilts forward, letting her breasts brush against my chest as she kisses me. Her lips are soft but needy.

“Thisisa good idea,” I mumble between kisses. Her smile presses to my neck and then turns into a trail of kisses.

There’s something different about Abby today. It’s not just the fact that she’s more relaxed around me. She seems to have worked through something in her head. Whatever it was, she’s emboldened by her decision.

As much as I’d love to sit at the dining table and let her grind into me, I know we have to pay a visit to the nightstand first. Curling my forearms around her thighs and planting my hands on her ass, I stand up and carry her across the room. She lets out a startled, playful gasp then resumes the trail of kisses that she’s working across the other side of my neck now. When we reach the bed, I set her down on the mattress with a little bounce. I don’t think I’ve ever made such quick work of pulling off my boxers, grabbing a condom out of the bedside drawer, and rolling it onto my cock.

Abby has already shed her shirt when I join her on the bed. I lie on my back, propped up slightly by a stack of pillows and Abby climbs back on top of me. Her smooth thighs glide up and down in a few teasing strokes before she settles on top of me and takes me inside of her. Even when I can tell that she’s stretched as far as she can comfortably go, she presses her hips even harder to me, sheathing me entirely inside of her.

Fuck, I’m going to miss this woman.

She sits there like that for a moment, adjusting and enjoying. When she does start to move, it’s a slow, steady roll of her hips. I lay back, watching her work her satisfaction out of me. Eventually, her pace quickens. She bites back a moan and I won’t have it. I want all of her moans either echoing through the cabin or breathed into my ear.

I sit up and put my hands at her hips. Hers land on my shoulders, clutching me as the angle of my hardness shifts inside of her. I can tell by the way her face changes and the way she clenches around me that I’m right at her g-spot in this position.

“Oh God, Hunter,” she whispers, “you feel so good.”

It’s enough to drive us both over the edge. Instead of listening to her moans at my ear, they’re right in front of me, dancing across my lips. We watch each other’s faces as we both come. Afterward, Abby doesn’t pull away. She keeps kissing me long after we’ve both come down.

Chapter 15

Abby

I can’t deny that cabin life is turning out to be much more appealing than I originally thought. It’s not all chopping firewood and hunting squirrels for dinner. Plus, I’ve found that even the grumpiest mountain man can be turned around by a little womanly charm.

Not that I would call myself charming. But I do think Hunter would think twice about trying to dress me in a husky boy’s t-shirt now.

Hunter and I decide to shower together after our post-breakfast romp. It’s the right thing to do…to conserve water, of course. We don’t even have sex again. It’s just five glorious minutes of admiring the way soapy water travels down the crevices of his body. Hunter washes my back, working every last knot out of my muscles at the same time. Being with him is starting to feel a little too familiar for two people who just met. I know at that moment that it will break my heart a little to leave this cabin behind. It’s the most normal I’ve felt in five months.

After our shower, we spend some time tidying up the cabin. I’m running low on clean clothes and it’s still drizzling too much to hang anything out to dry, so I’m stuck drying a small load of laundry in the bathroom again.

I’m sure Hunter will at least be happy to have his bathroom clean again once I leave, rather than adorned with women’s clothing on every possible hook and ledge.

While I’m threading some panties over the shower faucet to dry, the static of the radio blasts in the other room.

“Shaw, you there?”

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