Page 40 of Saved By the Mountain Man

After trying and failing to read for nearly an hour, I put the book down and stood. I stretched until my back popped and paced the small space of my cabin. My thoughts twisted in my mind, confused, hurt, furious.

How could he say those things after everything we’d had? Not only in the past, but now, too. The intimacy, the connection—it had all felt so real. And now it looked like it was just some kind of cruel joke.

My blood boiled, and I preferred it. Anger, I understood. Anger propelled me forward, where pain only weighed me down.

How dare he push me away! How dare he tell me he didn’t care!

What an asshole! He’d taken my heart and stomped on it. The worst was, I’d let him. Not the last time, but this time, I’d known what he was like.

I’d known and still fallen for it! For him.

Deep down, a small voice screamed at me that it wasn’t real. That I couldn’t believe what he’d said to me.

The way he had held me, the gentleness in his touch—those weren’t the actions of someone who didn’t care.

When it felt like I was going to spontaneously combust, I decided to go see him. I needed answers. I needed to understand why he was doing this.

I headed for the door, ready to march up that mountain and demand the truth.

I reached for the handle, but there was a knock. I stepped back, suddenly scared. What if…?

But Jethro wouldn’t knock. He would barge in, guns blazing.

I opened the door, slowly, and peeked around it.

And there he was in all his handsome glory, wild and rugged. Stubble on his chin, hair a mess like he’d spent all day tugging at it, his eyes filled with something I didn’t understand.

“Tanner,” I breathed, my heart racing. “What are you doing here?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking torn. “I couldn’t stay away.”

He took a step forward, cupping my face in his hands, and kissed me.

Fire coursed through my body the moment our lips touched, and I moaned. He lit me up, my body responding to him, as if he was the switch that brought me to life, and I threw my arms around his thick waist.

He walked us into the cabin. I stumbled, but he held onto me, and I didn’t fall. He kicked the door shut, and we were alone, locked on.

Tanner’s kiss was urgent. His tongue in my mouth claimed me, my breathing shallow and erratic. I clumsily pushed his jacket off his shoulders and reached under his shirt. I scraped my nails over his sides, and he groaned at the feel of my nails grazing his ribs, tickling and turning him on in one go.

I traced the packs of his abs, perfectly chiseled, and felt his pecks. His hands were in my hair, on my shoulders, tugging at my clothes.

I slid my hands down his body, and he shuddered. My fingers found his belt; I unbuckled it, opening his pants.

His eyes were hot on mine, the look he gave me hungry and full of desire.

He was hard.

I reached into his pants and wrapped my fingers around his shaft, and Tanner growled. I pumped my hand up and down his cock; he slid his hands onto my breasts, kneading, massaging, touching me. The desire for him to undress me, cover every inch of my body with his hands, his mouth, surged through me.

But not yet.

I wanted to feel him, taste him. He throbbed in my hand, and there wasn’t enough space to move, my motions pushing against the material of his pants. I let go of him for just a second and tugged his pants down, exposing him. He was thick and hard and ready for me, the thick head slick with his need. I ran my thumb over it, coating the head, and Tanner moaned.

I dropped to my knees, running my hands down his legs, and took him into my mouth. He hissed, his cock twitching on my tongue. I licked and sucked and pumped him, making him moan and gasp. He pushed his fingers into my hair, not pulling or guiding but holding onto me.

Tanner’s breath became a pant, and I sucked harder. He tasted so good, clean and masculine, and the scent of him, so strong and intense, turned me on.

He rocked his hips, pushing further into my mouth. He was close. I could tell by his breathing, by the way his fingers curled into fists in my hair. I moved faster, wanting to bring him the pleasure he’d given me the night before, wanting to feel him lose himself.

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