Page 121 of Mountain Men Heroes

His cock pulsed in his pants, drawing her eye.

“No one needs more than one cheesy Christmas sweater in their lives. All that thing needs is lights to win the ugliest sweater award of all time.”

He eyed the island counter through the opened door at her back, which was the perfect height for burying himself into her dripping channel. And she would be wet. Wet for him and hungrier after he made her come with his tongue pressed between her folds, his fingers dipping into that virgin pussy to tease her further.

The dark need to confirm his suspicions grabbed him by the balls and tightened until he couldn’t see. Did she know how tempting she was fresh out of bed? Mussed hair, dreamy eyes, and flushed cheeks.

His cock swelled to press against the soft material of his sweats.

He growled when her gaze drifted down his bare chest to rest on his cock.

Ivy. An angel with raven hair and greenest eyes. When her gaze lifted to his and recognition flared with a glittering surprise in her eyes.

She bit into her lip. “Strawberry you said?”

He took another step closer, then another. “Hmm-mmm. Your lips. They taste like strawberries.”

Beyond the kitchen, the curtains were drawn. No one would see him devouring the Texas beauty.

His gaze caressed her heart-shaped cheeks, the way her chin came to a delicate point.

“Have you eaten?” husky and low, he drew out his question, fixing his gaze on the way her tongue flicked over her lower lip, the way her chest rose and fell with every breath.

Could he kiss her again and walk away? Doubtful. He had a feeling no one walked away from Ivy Kennedy unscathed. In the last twenty-four hours she filled his head like a bad idea waiting to happen. A charged bomb ready to explode in his face. Then why couldn’t he keep away? He shouldn’t be here, this close to her.

She brought her face up to his and her eyes shone with what he wanted to believe was unspent need as he reached out and tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear again as it slipped free, causing the lines in her forehead to deepen and her eyes to shutter closed for a brief moment.

He picked up the faint sigh as his fingers brushed the baby soft skin of her cheek. What was it about this woman that he couldn’t resist?

“Did you know that there are over one hundred different species of berries in Alaska?” Her green eyes darkened and she mirrored his steps as he entered the apartment and flicked the door closed behind them. He advanced, she retreated until her back bumped against the small island situated in the center of the kitchenette. With nothing between them but air, he watched as she slipped a finger into the neck of her oversized sweatshirt, black, big glittered up neck and gold letters that spelled out Santa’s favorite HO HO HO.

He tracked her movements and fantasized how she would look on top of him, her glasses on as she rode him and that ugly sweater tossed aside.

Heat fused his blood and pounded through every inch of his body. Instinct mixed and jumbled his thoughts until his movements became jerky.

She fetched her glasses and slid them on with practiced ease. “Watermelon.” Like a teacher set on driving home a point, she raised a tiny digital finger. “That’s my favorite one. Watermelon berry. Of the berries, I mean and the rarest. Have you had those?”

He sent her a bemused look and nodded. “Did you memorize everything you could about this place?”

“Oh. Um.” She plucked off her glasses and he stopped her before she could pull them completely free.

“Don’t. They make you look sexy.”

She froze with her hand mid-air. “Right.”

“A sexy Christmas angel,” he dragged out as she complied with pushing the frames back into place.

“Excuse me?” Her gaze danced over his as she worked the ends of her sweater as if she needed something in her hands to keep from reaching out and touching him.

Like an invisible force pushing at his back, everything in him drove him forward, and it took every last ounce of control to keep his feet nailed to the small spot of carpet. But he could easily lean in. Caress her with a kiss along her neck.

As if she sensed his internal war, Ivy edged out of where he had her pinned and rounded the counter to a safe distance. Or what she perceived as safe anyway. “I don’t usually, you know, wear them. In class, they become more of a hassle than anything. I can’t seem to keep up with them and then my supervisor loves to find anything I do wrong as an example for everyone else’s learning opportunity.”

He continued to regard her from a safe distance. “She must be a jealous old hag.”

Ivy turned and rose on her tiptoes to retrieve a couple of mugs from the cabinet. The movement inched up the hem of her sweater over the perfect globes of her round, sexy ass and tight stretchy pair of pants she wore molded to her every delectable curve. He groaned but disguised it as a cough.

He brought his gaze up just as she turned. But didn’t hide the fact he watched her every move. Some things couldn’t be hidden and he didn’t pride himself on being a liar.

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