Page 9 of Snug with the Mountain Man
“I did not cry.”
“You did.” His eyes flick to me, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Well,” I say, trying for playful. “I had a crush on you, and you were mean to me.”
He goes still. The teasing dies in my throat.
“I remember,” he says quietly. The words land like a spark.
“You do?”
“Maisie.” His voice roughens, low and dark. “We shouldn’t talk about your schoolgirl crush.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re tempting me.”
My heart stutters. “And that’s a bad thing?”
He exhales slowly, eyes locked on mine. “It is if I can’t stop.”
The space between us feels electric. I can see every flicker of firelight in his eyes, every slight movement of his chest as he breathes.
I don’t move. Don’t speak. He’s the one who breaks first.
His hand slides to the back of my neck, and then his mouth is on mine, hot and hard, nothing careful about it. I gasp into him, fingers fisting in his shirt as the kiss deepens.
He tastes like rain and heat, like the thing I’ve been craving since the day I noticed him as a man and not just my friend’s older brother.
He presses me back against the couch, his body over mine, solid and heavy, his tongue sliding against mine until my head spins. His hand cups my thigh, pushing the blanket aside, fingers rough and warm on bare skin.
The kiss goes from slow to frantic in seconds. I arch into him, a low sound breaking from my throat.
Then he tears his mouth away, breathing hard, forehead pressed to mine.
“Maisie,” he mutters, voice raw. “I shouldn’t.”
“Then why—”
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, the words low and pained. “And that’s exactly why I need to.”
The room feels too quiet, too still.
I reach for him anyway, my fingers brushing his jaw. “Ford—”
But he’s already pulling back, standing, raking a hand through his hair. He looks like a man fighting a war within himself.
“We need to sleep in here for the warmth. I’ll sleep in the chair,” he says roughly. “You take the couch.”
I don’t argue. I just lie there, blanket tangled around me, heart racing, lips still swollen from his kiss.
Chapter six
Ford
I’ve fucked up a lot of things in my life.
But this, whatever this thing is between me and Maisie Carter, might just ruin me if I don’t get a handle on it soon. She’s under my skin. In my head. In my hands.
