Page 8 of Sugar for the Mountain Man
He has a little bit of glaze on his lips, and I find myself leaning toward him. Does he even know it’s there?
I want to lick it off.One swipe of my tongue will be all it’ll take.
Picking up on the space between us decreasing, he pauses long enough for his throat to bob. “What is it?”
Can’t lick it now. What a shame.
“Here.” Speaking ever so softly, I reach up without thinking. In a daze, my thumb grazes his perfect mouth before I’m swiping it off.
I’ve always loved desserts and sweet things; it’s why I followed the path I did. Seeing the cream on my finger instantly makes my mouth water. Without much thought, I bring my finger to my lips and taste it.
As I expected, it’s delicious.
Wesley makes this choking sound, drawing me out of my daze and making me realize what I’ve done.
Heat trickles up my throat, but it doesn’t just travel toward my face. It also seeps down to my stomach, causing my knees to press together. There’s no denying what this guy does to me, even without lifting a finger, and this little stunt of mine hasn’t changed that.
The only difference is that I don’t want to run away. Rather, I’m running right toward what I want, acknowledging the blaring fact of what I want to do.
I want to kiss him. That’s the only thought running through my head. It’s playing on repeat like a broken record. Over and over until I do something about it.
There’s no room to be shy. Not when I’ve tiptoed around this guy from the moment we crossed paths. Always watching him from a distance, this is my chance to change everything. To be someone to him. Not just a baker behind a counter, but someone he lets his eyes set on and stay there.
Whatever is burning behind his gaze makes me suspicious that he may feel the same way. It’s the final push I need to finally do something.
Leaning toward him, I expect him to meet me halfway. With the hunger in his gaze, he looks likeI’mthe one thing he wants to get his mouth on.
Yet, he doesn’t budge. He’s a brick wall, stiffened from his toes up to the blond strands of hair on his head.
“Wesley?” I won’t lose my courage and become shy. We’ll go back to the way we were if I give up, or worse. If I let him go now, who’s to say he’ll even return?
“I shouldn’t.” His voice is tight, his eyes locked onto my lips like he’s talking more to himself. “Maribel… Ireallyshouldn’t. It’s best that way for both of us.”
And Ireallylike it when he says my name, even when he’s trying his hardest to convince himself of his last words.
Maybe he’s right. The thing that’s holding him back should be enough to make me think about doing something reckless.
Yet, I can’t. Finally having the man of my dreams right here is making me want to throw caution to the wind.
Against my better judgment, I’m the one to lift onto my toes. Unsure if he’ll pull away or not, I don’t want to let myself think about what will happen if I’m rejected.
4
Wesley
Despite agreeing to something I know is a terrible idea, I somehow convinced myself that I’d be able to control myself around this woman. Yet, every time she gets near me, another wall comes crashing down.
I have two options. I can stop her now and end this before I’m left with no choice but to cut off the first good thing to come to my life in months.
Or, I can say fuck it. Because the other option, the real one, the only one my blood is screaming for, is to just sayfuck it.
I already lost everything. My empire, built from the ground up, was stolen by the lies of a man I called a brother. My reputation, my so-called friends, my entire goddamn life—they all vanished overnight because no one cared enough to look for the truth.
Then there’s Maribel. She looks at me like I’m still a man—like I’m not the ruin the world made me.
She smiles, and for a moment, the noise in my head goes quiet. There’s a spark in her eyes that makes me feel like a man again, not a monster. She offers me a smile, and for a fleeting second, the crushing weight of worthlessness lifts.
The world has taken enough from me.
