Page 11 of Kept By The Mountain Man

At the end of the dinner, I’m relaxed, and all smiles as Hendrix pays the bill and moves to pull out my chair for me.

“Thanks for dinner,” I tell him as I stand, and he nods.

We start to head for the door, and I’m surprised when he reaches over and takes my hand. His hand is so much bigger than mine, and a rush zips through me as his fingers squeeze mine. I can see people watching us as we walk outside to his car, but I don’t let it get to me.

We drive home, and I talk to him about the newest client that starts tomorrow. His thumb rubs back and forth across the back of my hand as he drives.

He pulls into my apartment parking lot and grumbles as he parks.

“What?”

“I hate this place. It’s not good enough for you.”

“It’s cheap,” I offer, and he glares at the building.

“Why don’t you move in with me?” he asks, and my mouth drops open.

“What?”

“Move in with me.”

“No! I-I…I can’t! And there wouldn’t be much point since I’m leaving soon.”

He glares harder at the building, and I clear my throat.

“Right, well, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait. I’ll walk you in.”

He hops out of the car, and I unbuckle, grabbing my purse. He opens the door for me and offers me his hand as he helps me out.

“Thanks,” I say, and he simply nods in return.

We head towards my apartment in silence, but it’s not awkward. I feel more relaxed around Hendrix after today.

The stillness of the night is calming, and I close my eyes as a breeze ruffles my hair. It’s nights like this that remind me of Oregon. A pang of homesickness hits me, and I have to remind myself that I’ll be home soon.

“Thanks for dinner,” I say as I dig my keys out of my purse.

He just grunts, and I bite back my smile. That was Hendrix for you. He’s short and to the point, never one to over-explain himself. I’m starting to really appreciate his lack of words. It means that when he does speak, he means it and that what he’s saying is important.

“Well, I guess this is goodnight,” I say softly, and he turns to face me, his dark eyes scanning my face, lingering on my lips.

“Hendrix,” I whisper.

I’m not sure if I’m warning him away or begging him to finally kiss me. He doesn’t look like he knows either, and his dark blue eyes meet mine for a moment.

The air between us feels charged, like a taut wire ready to snap. I don’t want him to leave. Not yet. I don’t know how to ask him to stay either, though.

We both shuffle closer, and I hold my breath as his head bows towards mine. My heart hammers against my ribcage, each beat louder than the last. Time seems to slow, the world narrowing down to this one moment. Then, his lips are on mine, and all I can do is feel.

His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. His lips move against mine, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. I melt into him, my hands instinctively finding their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

A soft sigh escapes me as his grip tightens, and I can feel the heat of his body seep into mine. His kiss is gentle but filled with a quiet intensity that makes my knees feel weak. It's not rushed, not hurried. It's like he's taking his time, learning every curve of my lips, every response I give him. Each brush of his mouth ignites something deep within me, a fire that spreads through my chest and down to my toes.

The warmth of his breath fans across my skin as he tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss. My heart stutters, and for a moment, I forget to breathe. All I can think about is him—his hands on me, his lips moving in perfect rhythm with mine, the way he’s holding me like I’m the most important thing in the world.

I feel his hand trail up my back, fingers pressing gently into my skin, sending shivers down my spine. A soft hum escapes me, and he responds with a low growl deep in his throat, the sound vibrating through my body.

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