Page 135 of Mountain Men Heroes

A voice of reason shuffled aside the bits and pieces of their interaction and focused on what stood out. Damon and her alone. Again. She was in big trouble and not a soul in sight to save her. Not even the dishwasher hummed in the background.

Better yet, there was no one to save him.

She shuddered as a shift in the energy sent a zing of anticipation up her spine. In a bar and not one person on the street beyond the frosted windows when you couldn’t get anyone to go home yesterday. A few cars drove by but for the most part no one was due until later that afternoon. What she couldn’t decide was if that was a good thing or not.

To busy her hands, Ivy shuffled through the folded aprons before deciding on one of the many identical ones. With ease, she wound the long strands of leather around her waist and tied off the knots. “Give you my super-secret recipe?” She ticked a finger on the side of her lip. “Depends. What’s in it for me? I’m still waiting on that steak dinner you offered me yesterday.” She huffed on her nails and pretended to polish them on her sweater. The one with the word GANGSTA WRAPPER in bold red and green glitter with tiny boxes, ribbons, and bows splattered all over it. Tacky and she loved it even more as Damon eyed the words with a smirk and a shake of his head.

His sensual lips parted around the rim of his mug again, and she watched the way his throat worked down the warm liquid. “Hmm. True. Which I’ll make good on that date.”

Like an actual date? Red flags sprang up and she back peddled as though her life depended on it. “No sweat, big guy.”

In a slow glide, Damon pushed up from the stool and unleashed the power of his glare on her. “Be careful, angel. Continue to insult my honor and you’ll be more than shivering in your boots from the cold. You’ll be running from the big bad mountain man on your tail.”

Her phone pinged from her back pocket and she dashed away the intrusion. When you were being hunted, rule numero uno was never take your eyes off the predator that was after you.

She swore the energy in the bar shifted to overdrive. Currents of lust were so thick she could reach out and touch them. Touch him. Damon rounded the bar at the exact time her phone pinged from her back pocket for a second time. Damn it. He already suspected something was up. Her phone going off clenched the deal with how she refused to answer it.

“You going to get that?”

Her breath hitched. Marcy had the worst time in the history of texting.

“No one important. Umm… besides, it is almost lunchtime and I am starving. So…” Was that her shaky voice? Gah. Get it together. Ivy took a deep breath and slowly asked, “What is on the menu for today? Anything special?”

She knew as soon as the words left her mouth she had stepped in it big time.

“Special? Yes. You, angel.”

Pulling her guidebook out like an invisible shield against sexy beasts with an appetite for city girls, Ivy started thumbing through the pages, her gaze not really landing on anything. “Did you know that in some parts of Alaska they make pizza delivery by plane?”

He stalked closer.

Her heart rate tripled.

“And did you know that the state flower is the forget-me-not?”

“Oh angel, there’s not a soul you’ve come in contact with that could forget you.”

Blood rushed in her ears. Her heart was beating so fast she felt light-headed. He was so close now she could feel the heat of him brush against her. He prowled another step closer.

Golden eyes brightened with mischief. This close she could almost count the flecks of gold and she noticed the various shades of yellow coloring in his irises.

Ragged breaths came fast and hard. She fixed her glasses with a shaky hand.

She silently dared him to reach out and put a single finger on her body. The look of surprise and shock on his face when she took him to the floor in a frenzy of lust would be priceless. Something told her he’d enjoy becoming the hunted right before he turned the table on her and she fell prey to his underhanded tactics. He had her so damn hot and the coil so tight, one more push and they’d be finding out how hard the floor was.

Heat struck with precision until her clit throbbed with an unbidden desire. As though instinct and her senses knew what she wanted without checking in with her first. How many times could she be rejected before she got the memo?

Caged.

She gulped, unable to see the words on the page in front of her. If he even slightly breathed on her she feared the inner beast he awoke would break free and have him splayed out on the bar, the floor, or a freaking booth and having every dirty dream she'd had of the man last night come true. “And...” she tried in a whispery voice, his lips a teasing breath from hers. “Alaska is the Christmas cookie cap…”

He didn’t let her finish.

Live wires juiced with enough power to fuel the cosmos crackled between them. Goosebumps flushed her skin and her lips parted, desperate for more air. More of anything to calm the fire that ate at her insides when his lips touched hers.

No, not touched. Claimed. Like everything about her belonged to him and he wanted to imprint that on her any way possible.

“I see those eyes filled with lust and it makes me want to rip your clothes off and taste every delicious inch of your luscious skin. Just give into you already and see if you really are like honey.”

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