Page 16 of Mountain Man Daddy

“One of my flannels should cover…” He closed his eyes a moment before opening them to follow a path from the towel at the top of her breasts, down her satiny legs, to her adorable toes. She had a change of clothes in her bag, but he wasn’t ready to hand it over. He needed more time to decide what she was up to. But Lord help him, he wasn’t sure he could hold back with her prancing around in his shirt all bloody day. He wasn’t a fucking monk.

“Thanks.” She looked so innocent and fresh—a girl-next-door type, not the kind of girl likely to be on the run, toting a gun and too much cash. She looked like a girl in need of nurturing, doting, and…discipline.His cock strained for release.

“It’ll be nice and easy for me to swat that ass if you get all snippy again.” He nodded his chin at the bedroom. “They’re in the wardrobe.”

She snorted, and he watched her hips sway as she went into his room. He wanted more than anything to follow her, yank the towel, tease her till she begged and then plunge inside her. How long had it been since he’d been inside a woman? He rubbed his beard. Too damn long, Mike,too damn long.

“Dinner won’t be ready for another few hours. Do you need something to hold you over? I never eat lunch,” he called out.

“I’ll be fine. I’m not doing much to work up an appetite.” Her last words were seductive and weakened his resolve.

“If you’re bored we can play cards or something.” He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He’d told her she was going back to rest on the couch, but she looked better now that she’d showered, stronger with some healthy color to her cheeks, and besides, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to spend time with her.

He didn’t even play cards anymore, but something about this woman made him want to break down the walls he’d erected and remember the guy he used to be before Ella, before Prescott—the kind of guy who enjoyed simple pleasures like cards on a dreary day.

“Can you play Crazy Eights?” He scratched his head and pulled the old deck out of the junk drawer. He couldn’t remember how to play anything else.

She walked out of the bedroom in one of his flannel shirts. Her breasts were heavy but perky, and her nipples hard—probably from the chill in his room. He was appreciating her beautiful legs again when he noted she’d removed the bandage on her leg. The skin pulled and puckered at the sutures, but it looked as though it was healing nicely. He had a quick thought about the bandages and other things Annie had dropped off, but his mind focused on kissing the spot on her thigh instead.

It was the injury that had almost killed her. There were old scars as well as some yellow and purple bruises from the accident. He wanted to touch every imperfection, caress each spot and hear every story that came with them.

He dropped the cards on the table and pulled out a chair, swallowing hard. What had happened to his fierce need for solitude? Had he simply been alone too long, or was this woman such an enigma he couldn’t help but be attracted to her? A contradiction with her sweet innocence hidden behind her snarky bravado? And that damn gun and cash, where did they fit? Who was this intriguing beauty and why the hell did he feel so protective of her?

“I thought I had to go back to bed or lie on the couch.” She had that saucy challenging look on her face, but he ignored it.

“I think you can stay up for a while.” His eyes raked over her wet curls still dripping onto his shirt. “At least until your hair dries.” He licked his lips quickly and sat, looking away from her sexy mouth.

“Are you letting me stay up, Daddy?” Her brow curved playfully, and he knew she was pushing him because it thrilled her to do so. He suspected she called him Daddy so often not because he’d told her to, but because it did something for her. And by the twitch in his jeans, it did something for him, too. He didn’t know why this woman brought out his need to nurture as well as his long-buried urge for control, but she seemed to thrive on challenging him to use that power, and he’d never met someone more in need of nurturing. She didn’t need it because she was sick, or hurt, or even in trouble. It was something in the very core of her makeup. There was a little girl hidden inside this tough but troubled woman, and his firm protective ways brought her out.

“Tell me what happened,” he said, as she came to the table. Placing her hands on the back of the chair, she hesitated.

“What happened?” she questioned. Those innocent hazel eyes that Mike frequently caught sight of when she accidentally let her guard down were now purposeful, and they searched his.

“On the road.”

“Um.” She bit her lip. “I don’t think we should talk about it.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” He nodded at the chair for her to sit but the only move she made was to shift her weight from one foot to the other.

“Because.”

“Spill, little girl,” he said, and it was in a tone that left her no choice. “Were you speeding?”

“I was…” She paused before adding, “Daddy.” Then she shrugged. “But mostly because I gave the mountain… control.”

“Do you often feel the need to lose control?” he asked, mimicking the heat that had infused her words. Her eyes flickered something feral, and he smiled—slow and wide. This was a woman in need of a dominant man. She needed a daddy.

“What are you running from?” His eyes narrowed. Hers shuttered and the mischief in them dimmed.

She answered with another shrug, and his shirt rose a little higher on her legs. His mouth watered. He leaned back, crossing his thick arms, and speared her with a stern look. “Not a very good answer, young lady.”

“Do I need a good one?” Her grip tightened on the chair in front of her, and she took a swift intake of breath. The spark in her eyes returned, along with some intensity that mirrored his own.That’s right, little girl, let your guard down and tell Daddy what you need. I’ll take care of you.

The words in his head shocked him a little, despite their truth and he shifted in his chair, clearing his throat. She drew her lower lip between her teeth, probably thinking his movement and sound were for her.

“I think you’d need a pretty good reason to justify the risk of almost dying, no?”

“I survived the consequences,” she answered casually and finally pulled out the chair. The scraping noise in the quiet cabin sounded out of place.

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