Page 59 of Entangled with a Mountain Man

She does, and it's even more intense than before. My hands roam over her body, desperate to touch every inch of her.

She's everything I've dreamed of and more, and I can't believe she's here in my arms. Then I slide my hand beneath her shirt, feeling her bare skin.

"God, Kenzie...," I murmur against her lips.

I need her, and I'm not gentle. But she doesn't seem to mind. She's just as desperate for me as I am for her.

I back her against the door, effectively shutting us away from the world. The kiss deepens, growing hungrier and more desperate by the second.

My hands roam her body, memorizing every curve, every dip and swell. She tastes like coffee, homemade cookies, and temptation, and I can't get enough.

With each swipe of her tongue, each soft moan, my resolve weakens further. I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist. Her weight in my arms is a dizzying rush.

I know this is a bad idea. But the heat of her body pressed against mine, the sweet scent of her hair, is intoxicating.

My cock is rock hard, and I slide it against her clothed entrance, teasing her. She lets out a soft whimper, and I have to force myself not to rip off her pants and take her right there against the door.

But I don't.

I trail kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat, savoring the feel of her pulse fluttering wildly beneath my lips. Her skin is soft, her heartbeat rapid, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.

I grind against her, eliciting another soft moan. I can feel the heat of her core through the fabric of our clothes, and it's maddening. I want to bury myself inside her, claim her, make her mine.

I pull back just enough to meet her gaze, suddenly aware of what we're doing.

"Everett," she breathes, her voice husky and thick with desire. "What are we doing?"

I want to tell her we're making a mistake. That I'm her boss and this is wrong on so many levels.

But the words die in my throat as I look into her eyes. They're dark with desire, pupils blown wide, and I know she wants this as much as I do.

I rest my forehead against hers, closing my eyes as I struggle for control.

"I don't know," I admit, my voice rough. "But I can't stop thinking about you, Kenzie. I've tried, God knows I've tried, but every time I get close, my good intentions go up in flames."

She silences me with another kiss, softer this time but no less intense. I respond instinctively, kissing her back. She tastes like sin and redemption all at once.

When she pulls back, we're both breathing heavily. She reaches up, cupping my face in her hands.

Her lips are swollen from our kisses, and a flush spreads across her cheeks. I want to memorize every inch of her and brand her as mine, even though I know I have no right.

"I can't stop thinking about you either," she whispers. "But the girls..."

Guilt washes over me at the mention of them.

"I know," I say, my forehead still pressed to hers. "It's complicated. You work for me, and the girls adore you. If this goes wrong..."

"It could ruin everything," she finishes, her voice tinged with regret.

I nod, my heart pounding. The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to step back, to distance ourselves.

But my body refuses to cooperate. I'm hyper-aware of every point where we touch—her soft curves pressed against my hard planes, her breath fanning across my face.

Our bodies seem to fit together perfectly, and the thought is exhilarating and terrifying.

I pull her closer, desperate for more. I can't get enough of her taste, her scent, and the soft moans she makes as I explore her mouth with my tongue.

"We should stop," I say, my voice strained as I fight my desires. My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, even as my mind screams at me to let her go.

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