Page 15 of Shelter for the Mountain Man
It feels right.
Mom and I have always talked honestly and openly. She told me about her first time. How sex was as natural and normal as breathing. But so much more than the physical act.
At its physical best the release of dopamine and oxytocin give you pleasure, enjoyment, and make you feel good.
The emotional bonding between two people, the closeness, trust, and connection are enhanced by sex. It’s the physical release of pleasure enhancing love and communication. It opens the door for the selfless, enduring, emotional connection that is love. It’s what binds you in good times and the tough ones.
Mom was in true love twice in her life. The first was destroyed by external factors. Her new love, John, is enhanced by shared experiences, losses and beliefs. And damn good sex, she says.
The trick ,she explained, is you must be brave enough to take the first step down the path, to see where it leads. You may stumble a few times, but you need to keep trying.
If Mom were here, she’d say Spade was sent to me for a reason.
CHAPTER 9
Spade
After soaping twice to get rid of the smell, I lean my forehead against the tile wall and turn the water colder. I feel like I’ve been sporting a chubby all day. Probably because I have.
Everything about her turns me on. Natural, like how she lives. No makeup, no airs, no teasing or suggestive wiles. Just her. Honest and forthright. Down to earth and real. No coy little games. God, she’s refreshing.
Her beautiful light brown hair, whether in a braid down her back, twisted on top her head or loose on her shoulders, shines in the light and smells like flowers. She’s lean like a runner, but strong and not afraid of the hard work this place requires. Confident in what she knows and her own abilities. Not feigning the need for help. Hell, she hasn’t even asked for help. I’ve practically had to force her to let me.
That’s part of my problem. I want her to need me. I want her to want me.
When she told me what that asshole did to her, I wanted to hunt him down and beat him. But her own confidence and ability to handle the situation filled my chest with pride. She maynot realize it, but she’s a woman who knows her worth and that’s damn sexy.
Last night I woke snuggled against her body, my hand clasped over hers, both cradled between her breasts. It felt right. Like home. I knew I should have shifted away, but I couldn’t make myself. This is where I’m meant to be. The hard part is convincing her she needs—no, she doesn’t need me. Wants me.
Because I don’t want to leave her.Take it slow. Don’t rush her. Let her get to know you.You’ve got a job in town. You’llbe here. You have time for her to get to know and trust you.
As I exit the bathroom, she passes me holding a stack of her own fresh clothes. “I won’t be long. There’s herbal tea on the stove top.”
I check the conditions outside, stoke the fire and pour tea when I hear the water shut off.
She’s dressed in red plaid flannel pajamas and still drying her hair with a towel when she walks into the room.
Grabbing the tea mugs, I nod toward the fire. “Come over here, I’ll help you brush it dry.”
“I need to take care of your arm.”
“It’s fine as it is.” Tossing a couple of pillows on the floor, I hand her a mug. With her back to the flames, she finger-combs her hair before lifting the brush.
I cover her hand. “Let me. Enjoy your tea and let me do this for you. You’ve been taking care of me.”
After studying my gaze, she relents, handing me the brush and shifting her position.
Settling behind her I stretch my legs out bracketing her hips. Her hair is soft sliding over my hand, the flowery scent an aphrodisiac. The thick rich strands dry as I stroke through the thick tresses. I fantasize wrapping them around my palm as we tangle in the sheets, each groping and starving for the other.
Surrounded by her scent and the warmth of her body, I long to lie her out on the floor, strip her of her clothes, and cover her with my own naked body. To hear her moans of want and hunger as I suckle and feast on her silken flesh, her passion laden moans of need and desire surrounding me as she begs for more. Lost in my fantasies, I whisper near her ear. “God you’re beautiful. Perfect.”
She turns, meeting my gaze. “Kiss me.”
Her eyes glisten with the same need I feel. Sliding one palm into her hair to cup the back of her head, I cover her lips with mine as we stretch out side by side on the floor before the fire.
She tastes sweet. Like warm berries fresh off the bush in summer. Like snowflakes you catch on your tongue. Like honey fresh from the hive.
I want her. I want her to choose me to behers. Yeah, I’m rushing in. But sometimes, like in battle, you have to go with your instincts. I know this is right.
