Page 17 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Surprisem
“Really?”
“Really. I want an untamed man. One barely hanging on to a few threads of civilization. While the love letters were lovely, and all, I’m more than happy to burn them in the flames of something far more unrestrained and out of control. Something incinerating, passionate, and unforgettable.”
“I thought you’d be more upset by my confession,” he says, turning towards me. The sliver of air between our thighs vanishes, and heat burns through my core, setting my face on fire. My clit pulses, ravenous for more from this man.
I’m done with talking, staring into his gorgeous face. But how do I make him understand this? Licking my lips slowly and sensually and savoring how his gaze smolders, I challenge. “What’s the wildest thing you and I could do out here, mountain man?”
He chuckles, eyes captivated by my lips. “Skinny dip?”
I smile. Mack’s finally getting it. “As long as I don’t get my hair wet.” I don’t want anything to happen to my new weave, though I don’t feel like explaining it to any man. No matter how cute and sexy he is.
Mack says, “You don’t have to go all the way in.”
I nod. “I have to warn you,” I say in sultry tones. “There’s nothing skinny about me.” I’m a girl who figured out a long time ago to quit worrying about what society thinks and embrace my thick curves. I need to know that Mack feels the same way.
“Good, cause I don’t want skinny. I want a strong, thick woman, someone who I can hold onto … with curves for days.”
“Sounds like me,” I say with a giggle.
“This may be TMI, Callie, but your body’s my fucking wet dream.”
Chapter
Seven
MCGREGOR
Only my family calls me Mateo. It surprises me how much I like it on Callie’s sexy lips. “Let me grab a couple of towels, and we’ll head down to the lake.”
“The lake?” Her face fills with a sensual delight. “You have a lake on your property?”
“Of course.” I’m surprised Mack never mentioned it in his emails. Relief seizes me. We’re finally breaking new ground together, getting out from under the old hippie’s shadow.
As I head back outside with a stack of fluffy towels, I still can’t wrap my head around how unhesitatingly she accepted the confession about me not being Mack. It felt too easy. But then, maybe she sensed something was off all along and didn’t want to admit it. All I know is I have never felt more relieved.
“You sure you don’t want to grab your luggage out of your car? Put on a bathing suit?” I ask, staring down at her gorgeous, round face and mischievous dark eyes.
“No, we’re fine. In case you haven’t already figured it out, I’m not an especially shy woman, and I don’t stand on ceremony when it comes to what I want.”
My cheeks burn at her bold statement. “Neither do I.”
“And what do you want?” she asks, lifting her chin.
“You.”
“Why is that?” she whispers, face flushing.
“Because you’re the most goddamned beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. A fucking queen, a goddess who should be worshipped.”
Her cheeks darken, an ambiguous smile capturing her lips. If she knew how I want to worship her, she’d be glowing right now. This is my best attempt at talking like Mack in those goddamned letters. I fear it’s not enough.
But I continue anyway, hoping that if I speak from my heart, even if my words are awkward and clumsy, it will somehow touch her. “I love your style, how you carry yourself, your fragrance, your facial expressions, and the way your sunny eyes sparkle with mischief. We’ve got very similar musical tastes, too.” I know this from Mountain Mates.
Her face beams.
“Prince, Marvin Gaye, Kendrick, Kanye before he went off the deep-end ...”
She giggles.
