Page 73 of Ten Mountain Men

Brooks is silent for a minute, but he never takes his eyes from mine.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says finally.

“You don’t even know me,” I say. “I’m not worth the trouble.”

He takes a couple steps toward me.

“I know how you make me feel,” he says, and there must be a question in my eyes, because he answers it. “You make me feel alive, Gold. You make our entire cabin feel alive.”

I swallow down a lump in my throat. That’s how they’ve made me feel too.

“Please come back with me,” he says.

I shake my head slowly. I can’t. I won’t run someone from their own home.

“Well then, if you won’t come back to the cabin with me, can I come in your tent with you for a little while?”

I want to tell him no, but he has that sexy DJ voice, and the green of his eyes is hypnotizing. And the silver streaks in his freshly trimmed beard glitter at me, blinding my common sense or something, because instead of saying anything at all, I let him inside, pushing aside the voice of my conscience, which hisses that I’m still being selfish.

Once inside, Brooks has to go onto his knees so his head doesn’t push against the top of the tent. He looks around, sizing the place up, which doesn’t take long because he fills up nearly half the space. When he turns to look back at me, the space between us disappears and he’s practically mouth level with my bare nipples.

My bare nipples!

Shit! I forgot to hold the flannel shirt closed.

He notices, licking his lips and then swallowing hard, and I pull the flannel closed. “I wish you’d let me take you back to the cabin, but if you won’t do that, can I come with you back to Los Angeles?”

Wait…what?!

That’s the last thing I expect him to say, and my mouth drops open. “To LA?”

“If you don’t want to be with any of us, I won’t push anything on you that makes you unhappy, Gold, honest. But in the short while you’ve been in my life…well. I’m not ready to say goodbye to my new friend Rose-Gold Locke just yet.” He smiles and takes one of my hands, and I realize my heart is giving up all resistance. “And well…thing is, I’ve never taken a chance to follow my dreams. And even though I never wanted to be a star, or on TV and all that, I do want to play my music for whoever wants to listen. Thought with you by my side, I might find the courage I need to try.”

God, how are those words making mewet?

Or maybe it’s those damn eyes hypnotizing me again. He’s staring up at me, looking so hopeful I just want to kiss him right on the mouth.

“You would leave the mountain? You would leave your brothers?” I ask instead.

“I’ve always been afraid to,” he admits. “But you make me want to not be scared. We don’t have to be a couple or anything. If I come with you. I have some money saved up, so I could pay my own way.”

His thumb strokes the top of my hand and I let out a little whimper. Something about this burly man, the textbook definition of masculinity, admitting he’s scared is the world’s biggest turn-on.

Stop thinking about sex!

“God, you’re so soft,” he mutters under his breath, as if to himself. “Is the rest of your skin as soft as it is on your hand?”

I let out a deep breath, one that makes my whole body shudder hard enough that my hand slips where I’m holding the shirt closed. My breasts, exposed again, bob in front of his face, and they seem to end up hypnotizing him as much as his eyes and sexy voice hypnotize me.

I don’t mean to place the hand he isn’t already holding on his head, or run it through his hair.

But I do. God, his hair is so silky. And those damn freckles.

And then…his mouth is on me, lips gently brushing across the quivering swell of my breast. My underwear is fully damp now, and my breaths are starting to come faster and faster. My nipples tighten and he flicks one with his tongue, his eyes locking with mine again.

We moan together, synchronized sounds of something waiting to be unleashed. The sound would probably give me the giggles in an ordinary situation, but he seems to be suddenly overcome with lust, and there is nothing funny about the way he sucks my nipple into his mouth. Or the way he takes me in his arms, sweeping me off my feet like I weigh nothing, and places me stretched out on the sleeping bag before him.

He fits himself between my spread legs, and before I can even bother feeling embarrassed that he can probably see my desire for him through my undies, he pulls them aside and dips a finger inside my folds. We moan again.

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