Page 6 of Her Mountain Christmas
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I want to sink my fingers into her blond waves. I want to lose myself her sapphire eyes.
I want far filthier things than that, too. Things that will never happen because I’m twice her age, and she’s running from something.
I set her carefully on the ground and force myself to take a step back. And yet, in the next moment, I take her tiny hand in mine and lead her into the house. I don’t want to let go when we’re inside, but I do.
I shut the door behind us, sealing us away from the storm. She looks uneasy, her arms wrapped around her middle, her eyes darting everywhere as she takes in my home. I glance around, trying to see it through her eyes. The entryway opens onto the living room, with its high, beamed ceilings and windows that ordinarily provide a view of the nearby mountains. There’s a fireplace in the corner, and my naked Christmas tree stands beside it.
“Can I take your coat?” I ask, cutting off the sweetheart on the tip of my tongue just in time.
“Oh. Um, sure,” she says, shrugging out of it and handing it to me. I nearly swallow my tongue, struck dumb by the vision in front of me. She’s wearing a stunning red gown that shimmers in the soft light coming from the living room. It hugs her feminine curves perfectly, making her look even more delicate and beautiful. My heart pounds in my chest as my mouth goes dry.
And my dick goes hard.
She took off in a storm wearing this. What the fuck happened?
“I’m sorry we couldn’t get your suitcase,” I finally say, my voice hoarse. I hang her coat on one of the hooks by the door. “Would you like something to change into?”
Relief flashes in her eyes again, and she nods. “Please. That would be fantastic.”
I toe off my boots and then head to my bedroom, where I grab one of my T-shirts and a pair of my sweats, then leave them in a neat pile on the guest room bed. When I return to the entryway, Ella’s still standing there, looking around.
“The guest room’s just up the stairs, the first door on the right. I left the clothes there for you. Why don’t you get more comfortable, and I’ll make you some tea?”
She nods, then blushes furiously for some unknown reason. “Okay. Thank you, Jack,” she says, and the sound of my name in that sweet voice of hers does something to me. She brushes past me as she heads for the stairs, gown swishing, and her sweet scent makes me have to curl my fingers into my palms so I don’t reach out for her. She smells like berries and flowers, like the lushness of summer, and it smells so fucking good that it honestly makes me dizzy for a second.
I wait until she disappears up the stairs, and then I stalk into the house, telling myself to get a fucking grip. It doesn’t matter how beautiful she is, or how good she smells, or how much I want to protect her. It doesn’t matter how she makes me feel when she looks at me.
It. Doesn’t. Matter.
I need to keep myself busy to stop my mind from picturing Ella peeling herself out of that gown in my guest bedroom, so I fill the kettle and flip it on, then get a fire going in the fireplace. I head back to the kitchen and focus on the minutia of making tea. I hear her footsteps on the stairs, and I turn as she enters the kitchen.
“Are you hun…gry?” I ask, almost not finishing my question at the sight of her. She’s wearing my old Honey Ridge Fire Department t-shirt, which comes down almost to her knees. Her legs and feet are bare, and I can see the tips of her nipples through the thin cotton.
She glances down at her bare legs and then offers me a cheeky smile. “The pants were way too big. I couldn’t get them to stay up.” Then she does a little twirl in my shirt, fingers holding the edges away from her body like it’s a designer garment. “But this will do, I think. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, the words coming out more gruffly than I’d intended. “How do you take your tea?”
“Lots of milk and sugar,” she says, leaning against the doorway. “It needs to be light brown, almost beige.”
There’s something endearing about her preference, and I focus on fixing her tea. When it’s ready, I move to hand it to her, but when she extends her hand for it, she winces and drops her arm. I frown, setting the tea down, then gesture at one of the kitchen chairs. “Will you let me examine you? Make sure you’re not injured? I’m a trained paramedic.”
She frowns slightly, glancing between me and the chair. “I’m okay, Jack. Just a little shaken.”
I step closer, towering over her. I don’t miss the way her breath hitches. “Please, sweetheart. I need to know that you’re okay.”
She sits down in the chair almost instantly, her cheeks pink. I pull out the chair across from her and then move it closer. When I sit down, our knees are almost touching.
“This is just a precaution,” I reassure her. “Something I probably should’ve done as soon as we got in the door.”
She nods, biting her lower lip. I want to reach out and tug it free with my thumb, but I don’t. I clench my jaw, and focus on being the trained professional that I am.
I check her pupils again, shining a small penlight into each eye. She blinks, squinting slightly, but her pupils react normally.
“Good,” I murmur. “Now, let’s check your neck and back. Tell me if you feel pain or discomfort at any point.”
I move behind her, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. Her muscles are tense, and I wish she was really, truly mine so that I could slather my hands in oil and rub until she felt better. I press my thumbs lightly against the base of her skull, checking for any tenderness. She lets out a soft sigh that goes right to my cock, her shoulders dropping slightly.
“Does this hurt?” I ask, my voice rough.
