Page 9 of Curvy Girl for the Mountain Man

My heart slams against my chest like it wants out, like it knows the danger this creature poses to her.

Instantly, I'm in front of her, one arm shielding her body from the looming threat.

"Stay behind me," I command, my voice a low growl to match the bobcat's menacing stance.

Olivia nods, her body trembling against mine, her breaths coming in sharp, scared huffs. I can feel her gripping the fabric of my shirt, her fingers digging in with fear.

"Don't worry, I've got you," I whisper back to her, trying to infuse calm into the charged air.

The bobcat edges closer, its eyes never leaving Olivia. The rain outside has muted, casting an eerie silence over us—except for the pounding of my heart and Olivia's shallow breathing.

I stand tall, making myself as large as possible, staring down the bobcat. I hiss at it, my body calm despite the adrenaline surging through my veins.

The bobcat snarls in response, but I hold my ground, locking eyes with it.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned out here, it’s how to handle the wildlife without harming it. Wild animals aren’t evil. They’re just doing what they’re meant to do, protecting their territory and themselves.

Minutes stretch like hours under the weight of the standoff. Finally, with one last disdainful glance, the bobcat turns and disappears into the shadows of the forest.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turn back to Olivia. Her face is pale but flushed from our close encounter and our earlier embrace.

"Is it gone?" she asks, her voice quivering.

"Yeah, it's gone," I confirm, pulling her into a tight hug. "You're safe now."

Her arms wrap around me tightly, and she buries her face in my chest. "Thank you," she mumbles against my soaked shirt.

"We should get home, though," I suggest gently as I notice that the storm has passed. The rain has abated to just a few sprinkles here and there. "Just to be safe."

Olivia nods against me, still clinging to my shirt for a sense of security.

As we walk back down the trail, her hand finds mine, her fingers intertwining with mine tightly.

"I was so scared," she admits softly as we navigate our way through the thick underbrush, still slick with rain. The moon, breaking through the clouds, casts a silver glow over us, giving the woods an ethereal feel.

"I know," I reply, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "But I meant what I said—I've got you."

She looks up at me through long

lashes, her eyes glistening with a mixture of fear and something deeper, more intense. "I believe you," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I really do."

The rest of the walk is silent except for the sound of our footsteps and the occasional distant call of a night bird. The intimacy of the moment wraps around us like the fog that starts to settle between the trees.

Every glance she gives me, every slight squeeze of her hand sends a current racing through my blood, stoking the fire that started with a simple kiss and has been fueled by danger and desire.

As we reach the edge of the woods, the sight of

the cabin emerging through the fog sends a thrill of relief through me.

Yet, there's a part of me that doesn't want this night to end, this forced closeness to break. The danger has passed, but the desire hangs between us, palpable and demanding attention.

We step onto the porch, and I unlock the door, pushing it open. The inside of the cabin is cozy and warm, a stark contrast to the frigid atmosphere of the forest.

I flick on the lights, flooding the room with a warm glow, and turn to see Olivia shivering slightly from the dampness of her clothes.

"Here, let me get you something warm to change into," I say, guiding her toward the fireplace where the embers are still alive with heat. “You’ll catch your death in those wet things.”

Olivia nods, her teeth chattering a bit as she peels off the soaked layers. She stands there, vulnerable and exquisite, her skin glistening under the amber light of the fire, every curve and contour highlighted in the flickering shadows. My breath catches in my throat, the primal part of me roaring to life as I watch her.

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