Page 9 of The Mountain Man's Flirt

I nod, suddenly unable to string together a sentence.

Amos

The first time I spotted the brunette with pink streaks in her hair I knew I was a goner. Something about those wide hips made me imagine tying her to my four-poster bed.

It made me think about having her at my mercy as I wrapped my hands around those hips and shoved into her tight heat. I’d let my body bring her a tidal wave of pleasure, let both of us get completely lost in each other.

Too bad she was my best friend’s little sister and just barely legal. Neither fact which my rapidly hardening dick was paying too much attention to. Nope, he just wanted inside the little beauty.

“This is Amos,” Jamie introduced me to his eighteen-year-old sister. When he invited me on this two-week camping trip, he neglected to mention that he’d be bringing her along. “He’s the best sniper the team has ever had.”

Lyla turned to me with a hand on her hip and a sparkle in those honey-brown eyes. She pursed her lips which only made that little cupid’s bow even more kissable and frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. “You’re not a wacko who enjoys killing people, right? I mean, I think everybody should love their job. But I don’t think that applies to men who do what you do. Not that what you do isn’t important. You only kill the bad people who deserve it. I hope.”

I took a sip of my beer and embraced the North Carolina sunshine. When I was done with my final tour, I was coming back here. Settling down on a little piece of land and building a cabin.

I glanced at my best friend, the buddy I served with overseas. “You’re right,” I drawled. “She’s a delight.”

Now, I’m watching the way Lyla’s pupils dilate and her cheeks flush. Her nipples are hard points, straining against the soft material of the towel.

I’m a selfish fucker. I know this. But something in me has snapped. All of my control is gone. There’s only the desperation of wanting—needing Lyla’s naked skin against my own.

“You want me to kiss you.” I state, cupping her cheek. If she doesn’t agree then the need might just kill me. It’s been four years. Four years of not touching any woman. Four years of only jerking off to pictures of her, the beauty who owns me in a way no one else ever will.

“Yes,” the single word is said like a plea, a prayer for me to ravish her in all of the filthy ways that we both need.

Before we start this, she has to know. She needs to understand what this means. “The moment we do this, you become mine. There’s no going back. You’re going over the edge.”

“I’ve been yours for four damn years,” she whispers.

Just like that, she condemns us both. There will be no takebacks, no way to undo this. I’ve wanted her for too long. “Damn straight you’re mine.”

My lips are crashing down over hers. She is mine now. She’ll be mine in every way and I’ll never let another man near her. This is it for both of us, the beginning of our unraveling.

She opens her mouth to me eagerly, groaning into mine as soon as my tongue sweeps inside. She tastes even sweeter than I remember, like a decadent dessert that I’d recognize the taste of anywhere.

Her knees nearly buckle when I trace her tongue with mine and I put my knee between her thighs to keep her upright. But to my surprise, she begins grinding against me, her slickness coating the material of her towel and the front of my jeans.

She’s already so wet, so turned on. The pieces click into place, that almost kiss. The way I had to adjust my jeans all day. I thought I was the only one aching. Now I know I wasn’t, but I still need to hear it from her lips. “Tell me what you were thinking about in the shower.”

I place kisses along her neck, loving the way she quickly turns to give me access to her skin.

“I don’t remember.” Her voice is high and breathy, making me wonder what she’s going to sound like when I finally get my fat cock between those creamy thighs. She continues to grind against me, moaning my name and making my balls tighten.

I nip at her silky skin, smiling when she gasps. “When I tell you to do something, you do it.”

“You,” she finally whimpers. “I kept thinking about you touching me.”

“Where?” I nibble on her ear lobe, noticing the shudder that goes through her body. I could feast on her every hour for a year and still not get through all of the dirty fantasies I’ve had about her. There are just too many.

“Down there,” she murmurs, her cheeks going pink. My little flirt doesn’t have a lot of experience with talking dirty. I’ll change that. The lips of an angel will soon drip with depravity and it’ll be my ear she whispers filthy things into. Only mine.

I slip a hand under the towel. The feeling of her soft folds against my fingertips is almost too much and I fight the urge to come in my pants right here. “Was I touching your pussy?”

She nods.

“Tell me how I was touching you. Like this?” I slide a single finger into her entrance. She’s so damn tight that it’s going to take some preparation to get her ready to take my girth.

To my surprise, she shakes her head. I didn’t think it was possible, but her face turns an even deeper shade of pink.

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