Page 16 of Runaway for the Mountain Man
Around us, the world is still. Endless fields of swaying grass stretch toward the horizon, broken only by the occasional cluster of trees. No cameras. No fans. No expectations. Just… peace. No wonder he chose this, I think. No wonder he ran here to breathe.
His voice is quiet when he finally breaks the silence. “So, where to?”
The question lingers between us, heavy with possibility. He doesn’t rush me. Doesn’t push. Just waits, his gaze steady, like he already knows the answer is tangled somewhere deep in my chest.
The problem is, I don’t know. Or maybe I do—maybe I’ve known since last night, when we caved to this magnetism pulling us together.
I felt it. He did too. Is it enough for him to want me, even after learning who I am?
I swallow hard, my pulse a wild, hopeful thing. “Somewhere no one can find me for a bit.”
His throat bobs. “How about somewhere with terrible service and nothing to do?”
A laugh bubbles up, light and surprised. My toes curl into the worn fabric of my sneakers, my body leaning toward him without thought. “Sounds pretty good. How long are we talking?”
He makes this choked sound, rough and desperate, and I feel it reverberate deep in my chest. “Forever, if you want. Or between that madness you’ve got going on, being who you are, and all of that.”
The offer hangs between us, fragile and vast. My breath stutters.
“Would you want to come with me? You could treat it like a vacation. Beach houses. Nice hotels.” I chew the inside of my cheek, suddenly nervous. “But if that’s too much, I get it. Or—we could do long distance—”
“No.” The word tears out of him, ragged. He groans, shaking his head like the very idea is unbearable. “We couldn’t. Even just a couple of feet is too far away, Josie.”
A shiver races down my spine.
Not because I doubt him—but because I believe him.
His voice drops to a rough whisper, the kind that makes my skin prickle. “I want to try to make it work. With you, only you.”
A disbelieving laugh escapes me. This feels so unreal. Makes me wonder if I’m still curled up to his chest, snoring away.
“You can’t tell?” His fingers flex against the steering wheel, like he’s holding himself back from reaching for me. “Josie, I wanted to keep you on that damn mountain. Wanted to lock the door and never let the world in.”
The possessiveness in his words sends a thrill through me, not fear, but want. My fingers dig into my palms, and I know I want to reach forhim.
“Thought about buying you a new dress,” he continues, low and deliberate. “One you’d actually want to be in. Not one you had to slice up just to escape.” His gaze flicks to mine, dark with intent. “Get you a ring you’d never want to take off. Be the kind of husband you’d choose.”
The air between us crackles. I can barely breathe.
“Bentley—”
“I want you, Josephine. Want to give you my last name.” The words come out as a growl, and my pussy flutters.
Yeah, I definitely have a kink for men carved from the wildlife. One’s who like to hide that they’re the type to take what they want once push comes to shove.
“Prove it.” The words slip out before I can stop them—low, breathless, a dare wrapped in want.
His eyes flash like wildfire in the dark. For a heartbeat, nothing moves. Then the truck door flies open with a metallic groan, and Bentley’s out before I can blink, boots slamming into gravel.
My pulse jackhammers as he rounds the hood, every step deliberate, predatory. The passenger door wrenches open, and suddenly he’s there, heat and hard muscle crowding in.
His calloused fingers make quick work of my seatbelt, the buckle snapping free with a click that echoes between us.
“Bentley, we’re in public—”
“Back road, sweetheart.” His voice is rough velvet, thumb brushing the hammering pulse in my throat. “Only folks out here are mountain goers, and they’re too busy digging out from the storm to give a damn.”
Then his hands are on me—one gripping my thigh, the other tangling in my hair—and he’s dragging me to the edge of the seat until our breaths collide. His mouth hovers a whisper from mine, the scent of pine and leather and pure male drowning me.
