Page 14 of Marked by the Mountain Man

Grabbing the rock she still grips in her hand, our fingers brush and electricity shoots up my arm, hot as the lightning storm we just rode out. My breath catches in my throat, my gaze meeting her tender, warm, brown-sugar eyes.

I warn, “Stand back so you don’t get cut.”

Using the rock to clear hanging portions of the glass, I lean through, unlatching the window and pushing the frame up. “That’s going to be a tight fucking fit for me.” I laugh, eyeing the space.

“Let me go,” Hadleigh volunteers.

I shake my head. “Your feet have already been through enough. Don’t need to add glass to the mix.”

“I’ll use your jacket,” she replies, determination written on her face. “Please let me help.” I can tell she won’t take “no” for an answer, and I don’t want to argue with her.

Instead, I grab the jacket, leaning through and throwing it onto the ground so she won’t cut her feet. Then, grabbing her around the waist, I start to lift her …

Until our eyes lock. My heart stops, and I can’t take it anymore.

Leaning forward, my lips find hers, sinking into a slow, sensual kiss. To my surprise, her lips move over mine, reciprocating my moves before turning ravenous. My heart throbs behind my ribcage as she clings to my neck, her fingers threading into my hair.

My hands grip her waist more tightly, drawing her hips towards me, grinding her over me, though she’s so much shorter that the juncture between her legs misses my cock by a good six inches. Nothing we can’t fix with some horizontal repositioning.

Pushing up onto her tiptoes, she whimpers as my tongue slides between her lips, circling her for a first taste. She’s warm and inviting, and I need her more than I’ve ever needed any woman, though it makes no sense. And it’s highly inconvenient.

The last loser I want to have any unnecessary ties with is her asshole brother. But all those cares melt away in the heat of her soft, velvety tongue sliding over mine, creating a rhythm I long to echo across every juncture of her body.

Pulling my head back reluctantly, I stare at her gorgeous face, her mahogany eyes, dark and dilated. Her nostrils flare, and her slightly swollen pink lips part, begging me to take her again. “Seems like we ought to go inside after all the work we’ve put into getting here.”

Her eyes survey the darkening landscape, apprehension gripping her face. “No telling what’s out here.”

I chuckle, fully aware of what’s out here. “Grizzlies, black bears, mountain lions, moose, wolves, elk. I think you’ll like it better inside.”

She nods, and I boost her through the window, watching her ample ass shake behind her and stealing a glance at the silky black panties beneath her dress. Does it make me a creep? I don’t fucking know.

But one thing’s for certain, with survival on the backburner again, it’s impossible to think with anything but my cock. I adjust myself through the pocket of my soaked jeans, striding towards the door where she stands waiting for me.

We need a fire, lighting sorted out, food, and water. But all I can think about is the sexy sway of her hips and how her dress grips her tits. I’m certain the nipples are pebbled from the cold, and I hunger for them, desperate to lick and suck her breathless before nibbling on those wet, black, silky panties of hers.

I meet her in the doorway, heart pounding as she grabs the collar of my shirt, pulling me into her for another kiss. “You like playing with fire, don’t you, Hadleigh?” I ask grumpily, my final warning for this sexy minx.

“And if I do?” she asks. “What happens next?”

My head spins, a thousand basic survival things still needing to be done before we think about anything so pleasurable. But I’m also old enough to know precious questions like this rarely get asked twice. I can’t hesitate simply because I’m multitasking.

“I’m gonna end up even more smitten than I already am, and you’re going to end up a permanent resident of Northern Idaho.”

She chuckles, palming my chest. “Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“Because,” I feather her mouth. “When I want something. Really want it, I take it, and I don’t share. Period.”

“And do I fall into the really want category?” she asks breathlessly.

“I’m ninety-nine percent decided that you do,” I confess, teasing her mouth with the tip of my tongue.

She exhales slowly, savoring every moment of this dangerous game. “And the one percent?”

I frown. “Your relation to Drew. Probably shouldn’t hold that against you, but?—”

“But you’re withholding judgment just in case I’m as batshit as my brother?”

“More or less.”

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