Page 14 of Connecting with the Mountain Man

Yeah. Let that sink in.

He’s grumpy and broody and infuriating. But somehow that makes it worse. I think about him way more than I should, and not in theaww, cute picnic datesway.

I mean I think about what those huge, hairy hands of his would feel like pinning me down on the counter. I wonder if he’d make those deep, gravelly noises when he—well, you get the idea. Okay now I’ve said too much. Sorry, I ramble when I’m upset.

It’s not pretty.

Anyway. Point is, I think you dodged a bullet. Because I would probably always pine for him. You don’t need this mess. So thanks for being nice about it, but I’ll stick to fantasizing about things I can’t have.

Stay safe out there.

–SugarDust

Chapter 6

Silas

I’m not sure I read that right. I stare at the screen like the words might rearrange themselves if I just glare hard enough.

But nope.

The message from SugarDust is still sitting there, bold as hell.

“…I think about what those huge, hairy hands of his would feel like pinning me down on the counter.”

Jesus Christ. My cock stiffens so fast it’s embarrassing. I shift in my chair, palms dragging down my jeans as if that’ll do anything to calm the ache building between my legs. This… can’t be right. There’s no way.

Itcan’tbe Eden.

I push back from my desk, chair creaking under the strain, and scrub a hand over my face. My office suddenly feels too small, too warm, and the walls are closing in. I thought I had this handled. I thought I could keep things professional—at least as much as I can with Eden flouncing around in those too-tight jeans and throwing sassy little barbs at me like it’s her full-time job.

But this?

This is dangerous.

I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees as I reread the message for the third—no, fourth—time. Every word feels like a punch to the gut.

She wants me.

She wants me.

The girl I’ve been trying tonotthink about every damn night when I’m alone. The same girl I get off fantasizing about in the shower. The same girl who’s been haunting my thoughts for years, looking like trouble wrapped in sugar and cinnamon.

Luke’s little sister.

Off limits.

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. I should shut this down. Right now. I should reply, tell her who I am and I’m sorry but this was a mistake. She doesn’t know who she’s talking about. She’s confused. But I can’t stop thinking about her words.

The image of Eden, all flushed and squirming under my hands, spreads like wildfire in my brain. I see the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention—like she wants me to devour her, but she doesn’t know how to ask for it.

I know exactly how she’d taste.

Goddamn it.

My cock hardens.

I slam the laptop shut, pushing it across the desk like that’ll do something to stop the heat curling low in my gut. It doesn’t. Instead, I stand and start pacing, muscles tight as a drum. The floorboards creak beneath my boots, and I glance toward the door leading to her shop downstairs.

---