Page 47 of Shared By the Mountain Men

“Why, doctor,” I teased. “Do you fantasize about all your patients?”

“Only you,” he replied, and his kisses suppressed any witty retort I might have had prepared.

Our bodies slid against each other wetly, grinding and grabbing, until Noah spun me around. I let out a gasp as he bent me forward in the shower, then slid his crown up into my drenched slit.

Our moans echoed off the shower tile as he filled me, and I wasn’t sure whose pleasure was greater. He didn’t hesitate or treat me gently—he immediately grabbed hold of my waist and began moving, fucking me from behind while the water sluiced over us.

“Yes,” I coaxed, “just like that.”

“I’m holding back,” he groaned. “You feel so tight…”

“Don’t hold back.”

That was all the permission he needed, squeezing my flesh tightly in his hands and pounding me harder. I reached between my legs and rubbed myself furiously, adding to the rising tide of heat at the base of my stomach, growing faster with every shuddering thrust.

“God, Melissa,” he moaned. “I’m close…”

“Just a little longer,” I begged, rubbing faster. “I’m almost there…”

“I can’t hold back,” he cried out.

“Wait… I’m almost… ohhh…”

“I’m coming!”

“Yes!”

“Oh Melissa!”

I felt his hard length spasm within me just as I reached my own crescendo, and the relief was as powerful as the orgasm. I screamed in pleasure, craning my head back to gaze at Noah. His face was twisted with pleasure, eyes widening as they connected with mine and then clenching shut with unimaginable ecstasy, the kind that made his entire body shake as he gave me his last few thrusts.

My vision went white as everything hummed and vibrated.

23

Noah

I normally loved taking contract jobs in other areas. Most of these mountain towns were pretty small, and didn’t have the population to keep a full-time doctor. By occasionally filling in, I was helping people who sometimes went without medical care for weeks or months at a time. My presence made a legitimate difference in lives, and that was one of the most fulfilling aspects of my job.

But this time, going to Ouray meant two days away from Melissa.

It was torture. Much more than I expected. I considered coming up with an excuse as to why I couldn’t go, faking an illness or some other emergency. Anything to stay around Melissa for longer.

That would be lying, and that’s not who I was. But it was tempting.

Fortunately, I was busy in Ouray—the flu was going around, so I had no shortage of patients to care for. Still, Melissa occupied a large chunk of my mind while I worked. She was always there—the memory of her face, her scent, hertouch.

God, her touch. Thinking about that distracted me more than anything else.

Yet I was bound by that universal rule about relationships: you never wanted to seem too eager. Even in something casual like this. So as much as I wanted to text her between every single patient, I held back. I kept my cool. I eventually did give in and text her, but just the once.

So it was a huge relief when she reached out to me as I was leaving this morning, asking when I would get home. And it was an even more pleasant surprise when I drove up to my house and found her waiting on the porch.

And when she insisted on following me inside, stripping her own clothes and joining me in the shower? It was confirmation that my infatuation with her wasn’t one-sided.

I don’t need to overthink things, I told myself as we toweled off.Melissa doesn’t play games.

“I think I have a problem,” she told me. “I got the wrapping on my ankle all wet.”

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