Page 121 of Ten Mountain Men

“Anything, everything. How this place needs a new roof, but…it needs a lot more than that.” He sighs heavily.

Oh. Okay. So we’re not having sexytimes.

“Come sit with me, darlin’?” he says.

I join him on the couch, pulling my feet up underneath me and leaning my head on his shoulder. He adjusts so his arm is around me and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“So. You need a new roof and—”

Before I can finish the thought, he’s moved again, pulling me onto his lap. Okay, maybe we are having sexytimes.

“That comfortable for you? I don’t want to hurt your ankle…”

“My ankle’s fine,” I assure him. “All better.”

“Can’t think about a damn roof with you around,” he says, his voice husky as hell. “I’m hard for you, Goldie.”

I had noticed.

Oh, I had noticed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, giving me an almost shy look which softens his chiseled face, making him look so vulnerable.

At first, I can’t speak, and it feels like my heart has jumped into my throat, but I nod. Then I manage, “Ash, you don’t have to ask if you can kiss me. We’re kind of past that.”

It’s like all the air in the world completely disappears the moment his lips touch mine, and the only thing keeping me alive is his gentle touch and the taste of him. God, he’s so delicious. I want to devour him, pull away from his kiss and nibble every inch of his skin.

“Mmmm. You taste like pure heaven,” he whispers against my mouth.

Me? No, he’s the one who is heavenly.

Our lips still touching, he murmurs, “I’ve always had a fantasy about fucking on a table.”

Well now.

“Oh, wait,” he says.

Wait?!

“Oh, no. No, sir. You cannot tell me you’ve always had a fantasy of fucking me on the table and—”

“Well,” he interrupts, “technically, I didn’t say I’ve always had a fantasy of fuckingyouon a table. Just that I’ve had a fantasy of fucking someone on a table.”

“Well, I’m the someone that’s here now, mister,” I remind him.

“But hang on a sec,” he says.

“No, no hanging on. No waiting. I want to pursue this line of—”

“Here,” he interrupts me again, handing me something. It takes me a minute to recognize that it’s my phone, the thing that until very recently used to be an extension of my hand. “I fixed it for you.”

“You know how to fix a smartphone?” I ask, disbelieving.

“I figure stuff out.” He shrugs. “Anyway, I can get it to power on, but I can’t do anything else because you have to have a code.”

“Right,” I say, and any other time, I’d be so fast punching in that code and making sure I had everything backed up and that it is actually working properly. But right now I want to hear more about the table fucking. “Thank you so much, Ash. I’m so grateful. Truly. But right now, I want to hear more about the table fucking fantasy.”

“Well, as a matter of fact…” He brushes my hair off my face, tucking the curls that will behave behind my ears. “I’d love to take you down to the Flamin’ Barrel and fuck you on the pool table with every damn body in the village watching.”

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