Page 3 of My Santa Mountain Man
Gliding over to the trunk of her car, she wiped her brow, as if she were too hot, then leaned in to grab another box.
That gave me a rather delicious view of her chubby ass as she bent over.
My cock stirred faintly to life. A surprise, since I hadn’t thought about fucking a woman in years.
I chuckled, then rumbled, “All right, Hopkins, do your best mean dog impression for me. We got a woman to chase away.”
It didn’t matter if my cock had gotten a rise out of the curve of her ass. She was the enemy encroaching on my private territory. So I ignored the protest song from my dick and prepared for battle.
My boots landed on snowy ground as I marched right over to her and addressed her ass.
“My bet says you make it three weeks. Four if you’ve got some real grit.”
She squeaked and jumped, bumping her head on the roof of her trunk.
Then she turned around and breathlessly said, “Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Corbin Wallace. I’ve heard so much about you. I think we’re going to be good friends and even better neighbors.”
Up close, I could see that her hair was a mess. There was a piece of cobweb stuck in it, and her overalls were old and covered in dust.
I also noticed the light flush on her rounded cheeks, and the glint of life in her green eyes. And her damn lips, which should have been outlawed in at least three states.
There wasn’t a trace of lipstick on them. And despite that, I suddenly had the strangest desire to see them wrapped around my cock.
I shook my head to clear it.
My new neighbor was too pretty and too young for me.
I was going to need to keep my guard up around her. A woman like that could make a man spin in circles. And I wasn’t inclined to do any circle-spinning, even if itwasfor a fine ass like that.
Chapter 3
Poppy
Up close, he was more intimidating than I’d expected.
I think it was because he was so damn tall. He towered over me by at least a foot.
He wore an old, beat-up coat that went along with his old, beat-up truck, and his old, beat-up dog. Snowflakes drifted down, landing on his beard, making him look like a wild Jack Frost.
He took a step closer, and even though we were outside, I suddenly felt closed in.
If I hadn’t known he was a Red Oak Mountain local, I’d feel a little intimidated right now. The man had an air about him, like he was more attuned to the mountain than the people living on it.
My breath caught as I realized that he was atruewild man. Something akin to the lichen that grew in the woods, or the cold wind that blew through the branches of the trees.
I could see why people called him the iceman.
“What you playing at, girl? Where’s your daddy at?”
“Um, excuse me?” I asked, straightening out my posture and bringing myself up to my full height.
He chuckled. “You can’t tell meyoubought this place. You’re barely out of high school.”
“I’m twenty-seven,” I shot back, without even thinking about it. How did he already have me on the defensive?
He grunted and repeated the words back to me, his meaning cryptic. “Twenty-seven.”
Then his eyes roamed across the expanse of my overalls like he was looking at a delicious snack.
