Page 34 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
He laughs once—deep, heated, sinful. “No, witch. That was strategy.”
I swallow. “Strategy?”
“Now everyone saw what you already know.” His voice drops to wreckage. “I don’t scare easy.”
My breath catches. “I never said you scare me.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“No,” he says, stepping so close his scent slides inside my lungs. “You’re afraid of how much you want me.”
For a beat, for a moment, for a dangerous heartbeat—I don’t move.
I should snap back. I should torch him with something razor-sharp, something reckless and defiant.
But I can’t form a single word.
Because he’s not wrong.
He sees it.
He smells it.
And I hate that it thrills him.
“You’re so sure of yourself,” I manage. “Must be exhausting.”
“Not as exhausting as pretending.” His voice is low now, threaded with something rough. “You want honesty? You want raw?” His jaw clenches. “Fine. Yes, I want you on your knees. Yes, I think about your mouth when you talk back to me. Yes, I want to push you against every flat surface in this lodge until you forget how to breathe?—”
My knees go liquid.
“—but I’m not going to touch you,” he finishes.
That snaps me out of it.
“What?” My voice scrapes. “Why the hell not?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re asking for.” Heat coils off him like wildfire. “And you’re not ready.”
That does it.
I laugh—sharp, lethal. “Oh, you arrogant son of a?—”
He grabs my chin—firm, not gentle—forcing me to look up. “Do not test me with your mouth unless you’re ready to use it.”
Oh. My. God.
The room spins. My pulse is too loud. My jaw clenches beneath his hand, but I don’t pull away.
I can’t.
“Let go of me,” I whisper.
He does. Immediately. Respectfully. Almost infuriatingly.
He takes a step back—but not far. Never far. “You should walk away, Aspen.”
