Page 119 of Mountain Men Heroes

Given half the chance he would strip her of those bright pink offending long johns and never allow her to cover herself up in them again.

But that wouldn’t happen, he growled.

Ever.

His dick would not go within five feet of her bed, kitchen counter, or anywhere else he could strip her bare and have his way while unrelenting fire gnawed away every inch of vein in his body.

He kicked out, sending a burst of white powder into the air and distracted his sparring partner.

The rich smoothness of her creamy skin and sweet scent. He didn’t know he wanted the taste of her on his tongue either until he had her in his arms and her delicate tongue darting between his lips to touch his.

Half the town had looked on as he tongue fucked her mouth. His cock had swelled instantly and he’d hurt her when he set her away from him.

What a mess.

Damon swung out forcing his opponent to block the blow in a way that opened himself up to an easy attack.

Just what Damon wanted.

He charged, dodged a high swipe and sunk his fist into flesh. Rolling forward, Damon drew to his legs and swung, holding half of his power back. He didn’t want to kill the boy, only teach a lesson.

The boy lunged and took them both down into the cold snow. Damon’s age and experience had the boy pinned beneath him in seconds, his fingers locked on his attacker’s throat in seconds.

“Get it together and focus,” he told him firmly. Both were breathing heavy and their hot breaths carried through the early morning air.

A brush of a curtain from the second story caught his eye and cost him. An unseen weapon cut into Damon’s arm, dragging a guttural roar from the back of his throat so loud the sound of glass rattling carried over the falling snow.

“Fuck,” he bit out. Not from pain, but the wound to his pride at allowing himself to be distracted. That never happened.

Damon paid no mind to the trickle of blood easing down his forearm or the cold against his bare skin.

His brows snapped together. “You’re getting faster. Good,” Damon grated. “But not fast enough. You need to practice more,” he instructed with the same force his sergeant had with him in the police academy. The old man was a hard ass but he’d taught the men under his care how to move their asses, protect those under them and manage to go home at the end of the day.

A nice trade-off in Damon’s opinion. His partner’s boy would appreciate that when he got a little more age on him and a son of his own to care for. Right now he didn’t mind looking like the hard-assed godfather that didn’t know how to have fun.

More training was needed but Damon could only manage a couple of hours at the ass crack of dawn and before school with the boy. It would have to do. “More practice, fewer games. You want to be a cop for the PD, take your father’s place in the force, you have to take this seriously.” Damon felt like a heel saying it, but sometimes the only way to get through the cloud of a teenager’s mind was with some harsh realities.

He only nodded.

Damon walked up to the boy who stood heaving from the exertion of their sparring. “You got this.”

“Yeah. It’s not easy though.”

“Most things aren’t,” Damon countered.

“I’m fast enough to beat you, though, old man. that’s progress. You didn’t even see the dummy knife. Sorry it cut you though.” That nervous smile turned into a rueful grin.

“Don’t be.” But damn if he didn’t feel old. Damon smiled and smacked snow on his arm to clear the drying blood away. “You think you’re fast.” Damon reached out and smacked the back of his godson's head. “But don’t get overconfident.”

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“GP. General purpose.” Damon grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a hug. “Now, focus. Make the grades, do the work, and be good with your mom. Remember, cockiness gets you killed. Something your dad failed to learn,” he added in a lighter voice. “Don’t open yourself up. Keep close and move fast. Speed is your friend and remember your enemy’s weakness is him thinking he knows yours.”

A frown formed on the younger boy’s face. But Damon didn’t back down. At sixteen he was old enough to get a taste of the real world.

“I understand.” He pointed at the slash mark.

“Right. I lost focus and it cost me. Take it as proof.” Speaking of, his distraction was awake. He could feel her eyes on them, and a faint light flickered on the snow signaling she’d turned on a light. Damon wrapped his hand around the boy's forearm and pulled him in until he had his undivided attention. “Keep close to your opponent, use your surroundings to your advantage and protect yourself. Never show fear. You’ll learn the rest as we move along.”

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