Page 244 of Mountain Men Heroes

Her Mountain Baby Daddy

One

Gabriella

“You’re gonna be a momma!”

I tipped my head to the side and narrowed my eyes on Amber, my best friend and a med student who was always more than happy to offer me free medical advice.

Most of the time her diagnoses were spot on. There were, however, a few occasions when she’d spent too much time studying a disease or rare condition and saw symptoms of it everywhere she looked. Like the time she told my boss at Inked Forever he had the plague.

Or like now.

I shake my head emphatically. “Yeah, um nope. Wrong, amiga. Sorry. That’s just not possible.” I shook my head. “You of all people should know how lacking my love life has been. It’s been so long I don’t even remember what the male sex organ looks like.”

That last part was a flat-out lie. I knew exactly when I’d had my last orgasm that involved another person and his very long hard body and even harder cock.

Three months.

I looked outside the window and wished I could be like the beach goers walking up and down the sandy sidewalks. College kids with no care in the world. All they wanted was a good day at the beach, tomorrow not even a blimp on their radar.

I turned my attention back to my problem. Three long, freaking miserable months.

I got dumped by Daniel the Douchebag. Back then Lover’s Cove—my little seaside town— seemed like the perfect spot for me. A steady flow of clients wanting tattoos, beach, sand, and sun.

Then Daniel happened. Thinking on it, I didn’t so much get dumped as get front row tickets to the show of finding my ex-boyfriend involved in acrobatic sexual acts with three women. None of them being me.

Technically I was the dumper, but I’d have to say, finding out he scheduled regular sexcapades with several of his co-workers, I felt more like the dumpee. The rat bastard.

My mind rushed over the events that followed the unpleasant discovery—the bar, my overconsumption of many margaritas, the sexy marine who teased me out of my melancholy and right into bed with him.

I’d called him my one-time fuck boy that ended up with me getting my ass spanked and an extra dose of his hot loving that night.

A tiny smile tugged the corner of my lips up.

And it didn’t stop there. He had me against the wall, in the shower, on the little kitchenette countertop. Pretty much any surface my hot one-night stand could use to bury himself as deeply as possible inside my very wet pussy.

Not even a sliver of my ex’s memory could ruin the one time in my life I let a sexy stranger have his way with my body.

“Oh, God, you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you? You’re one-nightstand fuck boy, as you like to say. Damn, that must have been one helluva night. You get this little daydreamy look about you. Don’t try to lie.”

I blinked and focused back on my BFF. “Sorry. Drifted off there for a second, didn’t I.” I can’t hold back my smile.

She rolled her eyes but then her lips tightened and concern came through clear in her gaze. “The one time I go out of town and you decide to party.” My friend paused and turned serious. “Is there something you’re not telling me about that night? I promise I won’t judge. You know me.”

Amber held up one hand and placed the other over her heart.

I did, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t keep a few details secret. She knew most of everything about that night. All but the finer details. Those I kept close to my heart and deep inside my memory. Just for me. For the times when loneliness took over.

“I’ve taken to trolling bars and picking up strange men in the hopes they’d give me the naughty tingles the way Mac did.” I pursed my lips and waggled my brows.

Her eyes grew wide with fake surprise. “Girl, I wish!” Her question came out in a breathless whisper.

I laughed. “Me too. Sometimes. Ya know, I wish it were that easy. I fear there won’t ever be another man like him.”

She was the only person in the world I shared every secret with. After everything we’d been through together—two horrific foster homes, getting spit out of the system the second we turned eighteen, rotten jobs, living in dive apartments through four years of college, breakups, breakdowns, and all the usual messes life brought—she was the one person I trusted.

“Ya know, thinking about it, I could do with a night out. Maybe…”

---