Page 17 of Harvest Brew With the Mountain Man
“I grabbed the back of his collar, pulled him off her, and slammed his body on the ground. Around us, a bar fight started, but I was punching him. Over and over. Fuck, Camille. I would’ve killed him if Styx hadn’t pulled me off him.”
“The idea of that girl, scared, cornered. I hated that evil men get away with evil shit every day.” I sit in that for a moment. She doesn’t rush me or ask a follow-up. Just patiently waits.
“Styx got us out of there. The cops were on their way. Later that week, I begged Styx to find out if the guy was okay. He ended up in the ER but was home two days later.” I swallow the thick knot in my throat. “I did that. I took my anger out on another human. That’s in me now.”
“That’s not who you are, West.”
“It is now.”
Camille takes my hand out of my pocket, holds it, and pulls me to the outdoor couch. She pulls me down to sit next to her. I numbly follow. Once seated, Camille swings her leg over and straddles my hips.
Shocked, I lean back, keeping my hands up and off her. “Camille.”
“Shh,” she orders, settling in and cupping my neck with her hands. “Now, that you’re grounded back to the present, I want you to listen very closely to what I’m about to tell you. Okay?”
Her eyes are bright, clear, and wildly determined. My arms lower, and my hands rest at her hips. The weight of her on mylap feels so damn good. Unconsciously, my hands roam up her back, bringing her closer. She leans in and speaks inches away from my lips.
“That young man back then was lost in grief. No,” she stops me from interjecting. “Let me finish.” I nod. “You had so many emotions overwhelming your mind and body. I can’t even imagine what you and your brothers went through losing Julia and Artie like that. My parents loved your parents. When I found out, my heart broke. I hated that I couldn’t get out of school to come to the funeral.”
The memory of standing at their burial, the sky lightly sprinkling, crying along with us. I remember her parents, Marjorie and Stan being there.
“West Hunter. I’ve known you practically my whole life. And while I haven’t been around in recent years, I still see the boy, the young man whose heart is so damn big, I watched him take care of everyone around him by making their hearts lighter with laughter. You always watched the room. The moment you saw someone down, you went to tease or joke with someone nearby just to get a reaction from them.”
My ribs squeeze with every breath, seeing what I looked like through her eyes.
“Age comes with deep revelations about who we are and who we could be. We’re all susceptible to the most vile of evils…but with life experience, we learn we can choose. We pick the path we want to go in order to map out who we become. You see that broken, grieving young man and think that one moment made you forever. It didn’t, West.”
My hands squeeze her sides. I rest my forehead against hers, focusing on the Ridge Dive emblem embroidered on the sweatshirt she’s wearing.
Her voice is still firm but quieter. “None of us are perfect. There’s no such thing. Like all of us, you grew into a complicatedhuman. None of us are black or white. We all feel deeply. We all have complicated thoughts and moments we wish didn’t happen. It’s what we choose to do with those moments moving forward that determines the kind of person we are. And you, West Hunter, are kind, loving, fiercely loyal, and protective. You are joy and warmth. You make everyone around you feel safe.”
I pull away and look into her hazel eyes. Overwhelmed with care for this beautiful, wise, and amazing woman in my lap, my body moves before I think better of it.
I lean in and kiss her.
It’s tentative, slow, and soft.
It doesn’t feel like a first kiss. We both lean into it with an unexpected naturalness, it’s like breathing. Her fingertips brush up my neck into my hair that curls at the end by my nape. My hands glide up her back until one digs into that mess of silky black hair. I turn my head and deepen the kiss.
Camille’s body melts heavily into mine. She lets out the faintest whimper, and I’m done for. Desire takes over. The hand not in her hair runs back down and grabs her ass, squeezing her into my hardness.
A husky, confident moan escapes her throat as she grinds down on my dick.
I groan, tipping my hips up deeply into her. Fuck, I’m gonna come if we continue this, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to.
My tongue dances with hers, discovering every corner. She sucks on the tip of mine, and I use my hand on her ass to pull her harder against my shaft that pulses with red-hot heat.
“West,” she cries out, chasing her pleasure.
“What are we doing, Little Pixie?” I moan into our kiss.
“Hopefully, more of this,” she pants, pulling at my hair. “Please,” she whispers, her heated pussy battling the burn my body is building.
“Do you need to come, Little Pixie?” I bite that bottom lip that’s haunted me.
“Yes,” she breathes out, rubbing her clit frantically over my cock.
I bring my hand to the waistband of her leggings, tucking just the tips of my fingers in, and wait. Her eyes open. Dazed and full of fire. She nods. I run my hand down the softest skin I’ve ever felt in my life. My middle finger slides into her crease. Gasping, Camille presses her body harder into mine.
