Page 8 of Curvy Girl for the Mountain Man

But could any man blame me with all these curves pressed up against me?

How about them Jets?

Isn’t that what guys do when they’re trying to get their out-of-control boners back in the cage?

How about them Jets?

No surprise, the shit ain’t working.

We sit huddled together, watching the storm rage outside our little haven.

Olivia eventually stops shaking. Her breathing slows. I feel the soft swell of her breasts pressing against my chest with each inhale.

My cock grows even harder—if that’s even possible. Desire unfurls deep in my core.

Christ, I want her.

I've wanted her from the first moment I saw her. But she's been through so much already...

"Thank you for taking care of me, Jack," Olivia whispers, tilting her face up to mine. In the dim light, her eyes glimmer with trust and vulnerability.

"I'll always take care of you, Olivia," I vow as I cup her delicate jaw in my palm. "You never have to be afraid when you're with me."

She stares at me.

I stare at her.

And then I’m leaning down. Fuck, I can’t stop this. I feel her breath hot against my lips, and then…

I press my lips against her.

Fucking heaven.

Her lips are satin soft, parting on a sigh. I pull her tighter against me, angling my head to deepen the kiss. She meets me with equal hunger, her tongue sliding along mine, unpracticed, innocent. Just the thought that she might be a virgin sends parks of pleasure shooting through my veins.

The intensity builds swiftly between us, greedy hands roaming, pulses racing.

I want to devour her.

Possess every inch of her sweet, curvy body.

But I gently wrench my mouth away, both of us left panting. We can't rush this. When I take her, it will be in a bed, with sheets twisted from our passion, not in the rough dirt of a makeshift campsite. This isn’t the place for her first time. She deserves better than that.

I groan internally, fighting every primal urge in my body.

Her eyes are wide, lips swollen from our kiss, looking every bit the innocent doe in the headlights, yet there’s a flush of arousal on her cheeks that tells me she wants this too. "Jack," she breathes out, her voice a mix of desire and apprehension.

"Olivia," I murmur back, my voice rough with restraint. My hands frame her face, thumbs caressing her cheeks.

And that’s when I hear it.

A low growl, much like that of an angry cat.

I look to the mouth of the cave, and every tendon in my body snaps to attention.

A bobcat.

The beast’s eyes, golden and gleaming with a predatory hunger, fix on Olivia.

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