Page 29 of Shared By the Mountain Men

Melissa was a patient of mine. I could joke about loopholes and non-payments all day, but deep down I knew that what I was doing was wrong. That truth became more glaring the longer the date went on, and the more I realized I liked her.

I liked hera lot. Which made this so much more difficult.

And that wasn’t even talking about the fact that she was leaving as soon as her ankle was healed. Whatever this was, it had an expiration date. Some guys might have loved that, but not me. When I fell for a girl, I didn’t try to get rid of her after.

All of it pointed to one incontrovertible fact: doing anything more with Melissa was a mistake, no matter how much I wanted to.

Which sucked, because Ireallywanted to.

So I politely showed her around the house like I was a real estate agent, and not a date. When she got close, I stepped back. When her fingers brushed mine, I walked to a new part of the room to show her something different.

Then she asked the big question: “But are you sure this wasn’t just the pretext to get me to come home with you?”

“I promise it wasn’t,” I replied.

Something sparkled in her eyes, like curiosity. “What if I was hoping it was?”

Daaaaaaaaaamn. There it was, confirmation that I wasn’t just imagining all the little clues she was dropping. A storm raged inside me as she waited for my reaction, staring up at me with those big eyes while I was consumed by indecision.

“You’re my patient,” I managed to get out.

“Technically I’m not.” She smiled, and I felt it like a caress. “That’s what you said when you asked me out in the first place.”

My inhibition was rapidly deteriorating the longer I stared down at her, so I turned toward the table and repositioned one of the airplanes. “Yeah, but it’s still bending the rules. We shouldn’t.”

She was there behind me, leaning ever so slightly against me. Her body was soft and warm and made me buzz with life. “We’ve already bent them,” she whispered, placing her drink down. “What’s a little more bending?”

I turned, and my last protests died away at the look she gave me. A look of complete desire and vulnerability, letting me know what she wanted with more than just words. For a brief moment, she was an open book. I had to kiss her. Every moment Ididn’tkiss her was a tragedy, a wrong that needed to be righted.

She must have felt the same way, because before I could make a move, she kissedme.

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Melissa

My kiss was forceful enough to push him back against the wall. A model airplane fell off the table and clattered to the floor, but we didn’t care. Noah grabbed the back of my neck with his left hand and held me as strongly as I held him, demanding that I not let go.

He smelled like everything I ever loved about home: leather, and musky deodorant, and grass so soft you could sleep on it. He tasted like the first boy I ever kissed, free and new and exciting. I stabbed my fingers into his hair and squeezed like it was a life raft, the blond locks as soft and warm as his lips.

Noah’s hand moved down my back, cupping my ass without any hesitation. He squeezed me hard, feeling my flesh like a starving man, and it was all the permission I needed to reach down and do the same, taking his firm butt in both of my hands and squeezing as strongly as I could with my fingers. I pulled him toward me while we kissed, feeling the hardness in his jeans against my leg.

His lips pulled away from mine. Before I could demand to know why he was stopping, he looked at me with those boyish blue eyes and said, “I want you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” I asked. “And don’t you dare say the fact that I’m a patient. I’m officially refusing to accept that excuse.”

Noah’s smile was devious. “Then I guess I don’t have anything stopping me.”

He took over, lifting me by my thighs and spinning until I was the one with her back to the wall. Our mouths collided, and this kiss was hot and hard andcompletelyout of our control. Need streaked down my spine as he took my ass in his hands, pulling me against his hips. I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my ankles, once again knocking a model airplane off the table but unable to care, not with the all-consuming way he was kissing me.

His tongue invaded my mouth and I surrendered willingly, dancing wetly with my own tongue while his lips pressed hard over mine. He shifted over a foot until I was above the table, then dropped me roughly on the edge.

“God, you feel good.” He grinned down at me behind lidded eyes, then lowered himself to my neck.

I tilted my head back and moaned as he nuzzled down my neck along the tendon, tickling and soothing and causing my body to feel like it was on fire. I was keenly aware of his crotch pressing hard against my inner legs, to the place where the jeans created an inconvenient barrier between our bodies. As if he’d read my mind his hands moved down my breasts, along my waist until finding my belt while I kicked off my boots. In a blink the buckle was open and he was unzipping me, opening me, and I raised my butt off the table so he could slide my jeans and panties all the way off.

And just like that, I was naked.

He paused to admire me, lust in his eyes. There was nothing in this world like watching a man see your nude form for the first time, and loving what he saw.

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