Page 12 of Running to the Mountain Man

“That’s not your real name, but nice attempt.”

Studying him for a moment, I admire how his jaw ripples when I say something he dislikes. I also find his incredulous stare to be oddly endearing.

I shouldn’t provoke someone who’s naked and pointing a knife at me, but then again, I do have a gun.

Wait…where is my gun, exactly?

In my backpack, on the floor next to the bed.

If things go sideways, I don’t know if I’ll have time to grab it. On the other hand, I don’t think this man will actually hurt me. His eyes are too intelligent to do something that rash over a little oatmeal theft.

“That is my name. And I find it pretty rude that you still haven’t introduced yourself.”

Yep, I’m sticking with the backstory that this is all a misunderstanding. That’s the most likely explanation to keep me out of jail and prevent me from being gutted like a fish if this guy is as psycho as he pretends to be.

I manage a smile as I let my eyes travel over his broad chest and down his abdomen. He breathes heavily, making the tight muscles evident under a pleasingly beefy stomach.

Too bad I have to leave soon because I’m enjoying the view, even though I know I should keep my gaze away from the…

Oh. Oh my gosh.

Did that thing just…twitch?

“Barrett,” he says through gritted teeth.

I tear my eyes away from that organ that, until now, has been a complete mystery to me. It’s no longer just hanging there like a thick length of rope. It’s now red, and it moves. If I use my imagination, I might say it’s pointing at me.

This time I smile widely. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Hard. Ha!

“Clearly, we got our wires crossed. I’ll pack my things and go if you’ll be so kind as to put that thing away.”

Obviously, I mean the knife, but he unconsciously glances down at his pecker.

“Fine.Goldie,” he says, emphasizing my name to make it clear he doesn’t believe it for a second. “You kill that guy?”

Frisson explodes over my skin, but I don’t know if it’s his words that thrill me or the depth of his gravelly voice. Pleasure and fear are indistinguishable at the moment.

“Kill…” I say slowly, swallowing. “…what guy?”

All my life, I assumed something was unusual about me because I never had any interest in sex. In fact, I’ve had way more interest in strangling my enemies to death than ever getting busy with the downtown areas of another person’s anatomy.

Yet here I am, with a flesh-and-blood man standing over me, threatening me and accusing me of murder—of all the things!—and I’m finding myself completely fascinated.

“I’ve been with the cops all evening, giving a report of a dead dude in the creek. Someone put two in the back of the head, and I have a good reason to think it was you.”

Maybe television really is of the devil, and that actor on that show was just me letting Satan in the back door.

This man wants to eat me alive, and I might just let him.

“Obviously, it wasn’t me. I’ve been asleep in your bed. Eating your food. Hanging out on your sofa and having a grand old time.”

The sound coming from his chest is another new experience for me.

The further movement of his cock is irritatingly pulling my attention away from his face now.

“He’s been dead for a while.”

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