Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Obsession
There’s a shadow of stubble on his face as he studies me with a faint smile. His dark, dangerous eyes sweep over me slowly, deliberately, from the hem of my dress to the loose waves of my hair. My heart does a wild somersault, thumping so loud I’m sure he hears it.
“Take my hand, Eva.” His voice is low, giving nothing away as he completely ignores Eli. Slade’s gaze holds me captive, and for a fleeting second, I think I see a spark—but then it’s gone. Do I apologize to Eli? Is dancing with him a problem? Is Slade angry with him or me? “Take my hand, Eva.” Slade repeats, extending his hand, penetrating me with an unrelenting stare that makes it impossible to resist even if I wanted to.
“Of course.” I slip my hand in Slade’s and thank Eli for the dance before I’m quickly escorted away from the music to theexit. “My purse,” I say, as we pass the table where Clara is still saving my seat. I grab my bag and watch Slade give his mom a kiss and say hi to Zephyr. “Let’s go,” he says, gliding his hand to the small of my back sending a jolt up my spine. My mind is reeling as I’m ushered out the door into the cool night air with no explanation.
Chapter seven
Eva sits in the passenger seat of my truck looking like the curvy goddess she is. I’ve never been the jealous type, but seeing Eli touch her, and have the nerve to put his hand on her waist, as if he had a fraction of a chance with Eva, pissed me off. I couldn’t stand watching that horseshit for another second.
I glance over and see her pretty face clearly in the moonlight streaming through the windshield. Her soft, floral, vanilla—feminine scent fills the cab. It’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to lean over and kiss her right now.
She trusts me—sees me, down to my soul, in a way no one else ever has. She even loved me once. I don’t know why it took me so long to appreciate her. Maybe it was the shock of her showing up at my door as the mail-order bride I was already planning to bail on. She threw me a curveball, and ruined all my carefully laid out plans for a life of solitude.
But she didn’t hesitate to leave Timber Jack’s with me. Without so much as a question, she slipped her delicate hand into mine, and here we are, together again.
“Um…” Her voice breaks the quiet as she shifts in the cracked leather seat to face me. “Where exactly are we going?”
I need to keep my eyes on the road because there are bears all over this area. “Does it matter?” I ask, sending her a quick smile, and she laughs, cutting through the tension like a blast of fresh air.
“No, actually. I guess it really doesn’t.” Thank God she feels the same way I do. We could be anywhere right now, and I’d be happy as long as she was next to me. She tucks a loose golden curl behind her ear, silently waiting and I decide to be straight with her.
“I’m taking you home.” I quickly check her reaction.
Her forehead creases and she studies me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Home? You mean your mom’s house?”
“No.” I meet her gaze for a moment, the weight of my words settling between us. “I mean mine. Where you belong.” I pause, letting that sink in, then add, “Your boxes arrived, by the way.”
Her lips part in a small gasp. “Oh, okay,” she says tentatively, like she’s mulling things over. I hope she still wants to live with me. “Everything’s at your place?”
“Not sure if it’s everything. I didn’t count the boxes, but they’re taking up a lot of space in the living room. Not that I mind.” I cut the engine, climb out and round the hood to her side.
Eva’s already reaching for the door handle, but I beat her to it, opening it with a creak and offering my hand. She takes it and slides out, her dress swishes as her heels touch the ground. We’re close enough that I can feel her heat, and get a good whiff of her unmistakable feminine scent that drives me crazy. Her stare meets mine, wide and searching, and I see the twenty-five-year-old girl who loved me years ago.
“I’ve missed you, Eva,” I admit, bringing my hand to her face. Her lips part in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed as I bend, gently tracing my tongue along her bottom lip. Eva whimpers, angling her head, meeting my mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. The world around us fades into nothingness as her hands find their way to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer. With one hand on her hip, I tug her flush against me so she can feel what she’s doing to me.
When we finally break apart, breathless and hungry for more, I press my forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you so damn much.” Her eyes flutter open with a mix of desire and vulnerability that undoes me. “Let’s go inside before I start ripping your clothes off.”
“Sounds like my kind of plan,” she grins, and when I scoop her up into my arms, her surprised laughter is music to my ears.
“Here comes the bride,” she teases as I carry her over the threshold and into the cluttered living room. There are cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly against the far wall, some labeled, others taped shut and sagging from the move. I set her down, and she stares at the mess, taking it all in. She turns to me, as if she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she smiles—small, sexy and private, leaving me no doubt about where this night is going.
This time, I don’t ease into the kiss. I take it, claiming her mouth with a hunger I’ve held back for too damn long. Her lips part in a breathless gasp, welcoming my tongue in a dance. She melts against me, clutching my arms, pulling me closer. My erection turns to steel. I’m lost in her. Her lips, her tongue, her scent, her soft, soft skin. And the sounds she’s making, her needy moans, go straight to my groin.
“Slade,” she whispers, all breath. The sound of her desire only escalates my need. “Slade,” this time her voice is trembling. She tilts her head up with uncertain eyes.
“What is it?” I ask, keeping my arms around her waist. She’s so close I can feel her heart beating as fast as mine.
“I think you should know, I’m not going to be any good at this.” Her cheeks flush pink, and she drops her gaze.
“That’s ridiculous,” I murmur in a low, hopefully comforting voice. I lean down and brush a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, breathing in the faint vanilla scent of her skin. “You’re perfect.”
She casts her eyes down and hesitates before the words tumble out, “But this will be my first time.”
It takes a moment for the concept to register. I blink with my brain scrambling to catch up. “You’re still a virgin? After all these years?” I don’t mean to sound so surprised, but we’re the same age, thirty-one, and I just figured … “Really?”
She nods, biting her lip. “Afraid so.”
“But you said you were serious with that guy in Missouri.” The thought of her with someone else upsets me to no end, but I’m trying to put this puzzle together.
