Page 5 of Protective Mountain Man

BROCK

Porsha had me feeling things I’d never felt before. I couldn’t even put it into words. It was this warm, cozy feeling as we worked side by side, handing out blankets and pillows and finding a spot for every stranded skier.

There weren’t all that many of them—just a dozen or so. But we also had to find a place for the stranded employees.

All the locals had gone home. On his way out, a guy named Nick had stopped by the desk to offer me a place to stay until this was over. I’d only met him once, when I worked on his heavy-duty pickup a few years ago, but he was more personable than the other guys.

I declined his generous offer. Normally, I might have taken him up on it, but no way would I leave Porsha stranded. If she was working alone tonight with all these people sleeping everywhere, I’d keep her company.

“This is for you,” Porsha said, turning and handing me a pillow and blanket.

We were standing in the linen closet. I’d followed her, assuming we had more to gather. But she didn’t stop outsideand lock the door once she realized we were done. Instead, she’d gone inside and grabbed these.

I stared at the blanket, sheet, and pillow and shook my head. “I’m not sleeping tonight. I’ll stay awake and keep watch.”

“The front door is locked,” she pointed out. “It’ll be safe.”

Yeah, safety wasn’t what it was all about. I wanted to spend time with her. I didn’t want her hanging out behind that desk all alone with nobody to talk to while people slept on the couches nearby.

“Come on,” she said, pointing toward the door I was blocking. “I have the perfect place for you.”

I was standing between her and the exit, so I had to move out of the way. I waited while she locked the door, gesturing to let her know to lead. I’d follow, but I wouldn’t be using this blanket and pillow. Not alone, anyway.

My cock sprang to life at that thought. It didn’t help that I was staring at the finest ass I’d ever seen. Round and plump beneath those tight khaki pants. I could imagine grabbing that ass as I rammed into her, making her call my name as she urged me to fuck her harder. Faster.

We went down a long hallway before finally reaching a door with a sign readingPoolabove it. She scanned a card hanging from a lanyard, then pulled the door open, getting it halfway before I grabbed it to hold it for her.

“You can have this whole area to yourself,” she said once we were inside with the door closed behind us. “Feel free to jump into the pool if you want. Don’t tell anyone I gave you permission, though.”

“I don’t have my swim trunks,” I said.

Those words came out before I realized I was going to say them. She was standing several feet in front of me, and now she turned and looked at me, eyes wide.

Her gaze slowly lowered to my jeans, and I wondered if she noticed the bulge beneath my zipper. “As I said, you’ll have this whole area to yourself.” Her gaze lifted to my face again. “Nobody will know what you’re doing in here.”

“Nobody will know whatwe’redoing in here.”

Again, I said those words before I knew they were going to come out. What the hell was I doing? I’d just met this woman, and she was being kind enough to give me a place to sleep tonight. My plan had been to hang out at the desk and get to know her. At the end of all of this, when I was finally allowed to go home, I’d get her number and ask her on a date.

I didn’t even dare breathe in the seconds that passed after saying those words. Was it seconds or minutes? Actually, it felt like hours. But her face didn’t harden as it would have if she was offended. That had to be a good sign, right?

Finally, she spoke, and I braced myself for rejection.

“We?” she asked, putting the ball right back in my court.

I hesitated. This was my chance to back out. To brush off my statement as some sort of joke. I could even come up with another explanation for what I meant, although I’d be damned if I knew what that would be. I didn’t even know what I was doing.

“It’s my sloppy way of coming on to you,” I said, going with honesty. “I’m not very good at this stuff.”

For what seemed like a lifetime, she said nothing. After what seemed like another few hours, I spotted a subtle twitch of her mouth. That widened to a full smile.

“We,” she said.

But then the smile began to fade. There it was. The inevitable rejection. I’d try not to take it personally, but that wouldn’t be easy. This connection was so strong—from how I saw it, anyway. I couldn’t imagine that she didn’t feel it too. How did I walk away from it and pretend she hadn’t rocked my world?

“It’s my first night on the job,” she said. “I don’t want to get in trouble for abandoning my post.”

“You get a break, don’t you?” I asked, once again feeling hopeful.

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