Page 19 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Surprisem
“No grizzlies here, Callie. You may not want to hear this, but I’ll kill anything or anyone who tries to harm you. You’re safe with me.”
“Oh.”
The crease in my forehead deepens. “Does that admission freak you out? Too honest for you?”
“Not at all. It’s sexy as hell,” Callie says definitively.
I puff out my chest, pride filling me as blood rushes to my cock. I want her to find me sexy. I want her to feel safe around me. My body hums with longing for her.
We reach the lake, and my heart slams against my ribs.Am I really about to go skinny dipping with this breathtaking woman?
“You can’t be too honest with me. I got that trait from my parents, who attribute it as one of the reasons they’re still married after more than three decades.”
“That’s quite an achievement. You don’t hear about long-lasting relationships like that much anymore,” I murmur, setting the towels down on the sandy banks of the lake.
“What about your parents?”
“Still together,” I grumble. “And toxic as hell. I don’t know which culture handles alcohol worse, Mexican or Scottish.”
Her eyes fill with an empathy I’m not accustomed to. Calliope makes me feel safe, understood, and acknowledged. Things I don’t want to get used to in case she goes away someday.
I turn away from the beauty, toeing off my cowboy boots and removing my socks. I go slow, fully prepared to strip to my skin.
Silence greets me from behind.Glancing over my shoulder toward my guest, I realize she’s not undressing. Instead, she stands unmoving, her hands clutched tightly in front of her.
“Having second thoughts?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow as my fingers fumble with the button of my Wranglers and then the zipper. Its familiar overtures put a knot in my throat and a ravenous glimmer in her eyes.
“No,” she says, reaching into the pocket of her jean jacket to pull out bobby pins. Expertly, she parts her long hair and wraps it around her head, securing it with the pins to keep it out of the water.
Watching her do something so intimate that few people get to see sets my body on fire.
“What are you staring at?” she asks.
“You.” I swallow loudly. “You’re so damn sexy when you do that with your hair.”
She giggles, shrugging out of her jacket and then bending to remove her strappy sandals.
“About those animals,” she adds. “None of them are aquatic, right?”
I chuckle throatily, pulling down my jeans and leaving them in a pile next to the towels where she’s thrown her sandals and jacket. My shirt comes off, followed by my boxer briefs. “What are you expecting? Jaws?”
“No.” She swallows loudly, and I can feel her eyes on my ass. “But I had to ask.”
I eye the clothes pile, throat constricting and heart enflaming at the addition of her black-and-white floral sundress, followedby a lacy magenta bra and matching panties with a wet line along the crotch. It takes every ounce of willpower not to grab and lick them. I want her so desperately that my mouth waters.
Wading into the lake, I can’t hide the sigh that escapes my lips. “Fucking cold,” I mutter under my breath, wading out until the water covers my hips before turning to look in her direction. What I see is beyond tantalizing.
Dark mocha skin cast in pale moonlight. Weighty, full breasts, the nipples barely covered by one hand and arm, and glimmers of curly black hair peeking out between the fingers lightly covering her pussy. She keeps it natural. I love it.
“Oh,” she exclaims, eyes rounding as she stands up to her ankles in the frigid mountain water, her mouth hanging open. “Turn around and don’t look.”
I obey without thinking, my stomach in knots and my cock bobbing to the top of the water, more than happy to get in on the outdoor recreation. “You didn’t really expect menotto look, did you?”
I hear water splashing, and her teeth chattering. It doesn’t take long in a crystal-clear alpine lake at sixty-five hundred feet, summer or not.
“This is freezing!” she exclaims.
“I’m sure the Pacific Ocean off San Francisco could outdo this any day of the week.”
