Page 88 of Ten Mountain Men

“I need—”

“What you need,” a voice says from behind me, and suddenly I’m being pulled from Ranger and spun around into the arms of Clay, “is to bring your sweet ass over here to me and explain why you lied to me and Bucky.”

My heart stops for an instant. “Lied?”

Then I realize he’s smirking.

“You told us you were saving yourself for your soulmate, remember? What happened, did you trip and fall on Hunter’s dick? Because clearly, if any of us are your soulmate, it’s me.”

I shake my head. “No, no. No soulmates. Just friendship and sex, remember? And I guess I changed my mind…I wasn’t lying when I—”

“Hey,” he says, his face suddenly serious in an expression I didn’t realize Clay was capable of mustering. He takes one of my hands in each of his and wraps my fingers in between his, pressing our palms together. Then he dips his head and tenderly kisses my knuckles. “I was just kiddin’ around, sweetheart. You’re allowed to change your mind. And I don’t give a damn who your first lover was. I’m just excited as hell that you’ll do me the honor of letting me be one of your lovers, no matter where I fall in line. Number five or five hundred, I don’t give a damn.”

He kisses my forehead.

I am not a woman who catches feelings easily, but I’m glad I’m treading water and not on solid ground, because I am weak in the damn knees. What did I just say? No soulmates. Just friendship and sex. Yet, I do believe Clay Björnsson just tugged on my heartstrings.

Over his shoulder, I catch Buck watching us. I can’t read his expression, but I can’t help thinking—Clay may not mind, but Buck might be confused. He’d been willing to lose his virginity to me, after all.

“Can I catch you later?” I ask Clay. “I want to speak with Buck for a minute.”

Clay winks. “You can catch me anytime you want to, Goldie. Especially if you want to catch me with the trap in between those luscious thighs of yours…”

I wave him off, but laugh and swim over to Buck.

He grins. “I’m glad Brooks and Hunter found you and brought you back.”

“About that…” I study him for a moment, and he doesn’t look hurt or betrayed. “When I told you and Clay I wanted to have my first time with my soulmate, I wasn’t lying. But…I don’t know. It just felt right with Brooks, and I…I do want you all. I’m glad I decided not to wait. But I understand if you still want to. Wait, that is. For your soulmate.”

His jaw drops open a little. “Wait for my soulmate? Are you kidding? I’m so excited my first time is gonna be with you, Goldie. I don’t even want to wait five minutes!” he laughs.

“Well, you’re going to have to.”

I glance up at the voice. There’s Lynx, standing on the bank, wearing not a damn thing but that catlike grin. I didn’t even notice he’d come and gone, but he’s carrying his first aid kit. “I noticed our girl has some abrasions and I want to get those treated right away.”

“So what you’re saying is you want to show meyourbedside manner?” I ask him. Saucily.

A faint blush paints his cheeks. So adorbs.

“As long as you’re our houseguest, I’ll take care of you in every way you need taken care of,” he says. “Now get on up here and let me check you out. In a strictly professional way, mind you.”

After Lynx has thoroughly examined my face, my arms, my legs and my ankle—basically every inch of flesh not covered up by Hunter’s wet shirt clinging transparently to my body—and has determined that I don’t have any life-threatening wounds, he says, “Do you need medical attention too?”

I follow his gaze and see it’s Rusty he’s talking to, hovering a few feet away.

“Yeah, he’s got a big ol’ case of horny!” Clay, overhearing, calls.

Rusty’s wearing shorts, but they do nothing to conceal the accuracy of Clay’s statement. Just as Luke…I mean, Lynx…just asLynx’shad, Rusty’s cheeks pinken. And once again I can’t help but notice how adorable this almost bashfulness of theirs is.

“For the record, Rusty, I have a big ol’ case of horny too,” I tell him. Saucily.

His face breaks into a big ol’ grin. “In that case, you wanna go behind that pine tree and knock boots?”

“Actually, I think it’s my turn,” Buck, still in the water, says.

I glance around and they’re all looking at me expectantly.

Oh, hell on a porch swing, my poor pussy. A picture of them all running a train on me, pounding me porno-style, springs into my head—if they want to, I don’t have the willpower to say no. Apparently my libido doesn’t have a pause button.

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