Page 15 of Connecting with the Mountain Man

She’s down there. Right now. Probably wiping flour off her hands or tossing that wild hair of hers over her shoulder.And she has no idea that she’s just flipped my entire world upside down with one email. No clue that she’s got me so twisted up I can barely think straight.

I should stay put. I should sit my ass down and wait for this to pass. But it won’t. Because Eden isn’t justsome girl. She’s Eden. The same girl I’ve wanted to taste, touch, and ruin for years. And apparently… she wants that too.

I’m so fucked.

I lean back in the chair, spreading my legs wide, and grip the edge of the desk like it’ll keep me tethered to reality. It doesn’t.

Because every damn time I close my eyes, she’s there.

Eden.

Bent over the bakery counter, her tits practically spilling out of that too-tight top she always wears like it’s not driving me insane. Flour dusting her chest, the thin fabric clinging to her nipples, and those jeans—the ones that hug her ass so tight it should be illegal.

I can see it so clear. The way her hips would fit right into my hands. The way her pussy would feel if I slid my hand between her thighs and found her soaked and ready. And swollen.

Fuck.

I palm the thick bulge in my jeans, hissing under my breath. I’m already rock hard, and I haven’t even touched myself yet. Just thinking about her is enough to get me this fucking desperate.

This isn’t normal. It’s not healthy.

But I don’t stop.

I let my head fall back, eyes shutting tight as I stroke my cock through the denim. Slow and rough, pretending it’s her hand working me over. I imagine dragging her over the desk, ripping those jeans down her legs, and spreading her wide. Burying my face between those soft thighs until she’s shaking and begging for more.

Her tits would bounce as she writhes under me, those sweet little moans escaping her lips. I want to lick them, suck her nipples until she’s gasping, tugging on my hair and arching that back like she needs me inside her.

Her taste. Her heat. The way her pussy would clamp around my tongue, slick and hot, driving me to the edge. I bet she tastes as sweet as her famous cinnamon rolls.

I can see her coming undone, writhing against the desk, gasping my name—

The office door swings open, slamming against the wall.

I jolt so hard I nearly fall out of the chair. My hand flies off my cock, and I yank the chair forward, shoving the damn thing under the desk so fast it scrapes against the wood.

Luke.

Fuck.

He’s standing there, arms crossed, one brow raised like he caught me red-handed. Well, he kind of did.

“What the hell are you doing?” Luke asks, stepping inside like he owns the place.

I shift in the chair, desperately willing the heat flushing my face to disappear.

“Working,” I grunt, dragging a notepad toward me like that’s going to cover the fact that I was seconds away from jerking off to his baby sister’s tits.

Luke’s eyes narrow, flicking from the desk to me.

“Working, huh?” He glances at his watch. “Well, you forgot we have a meeting. Five minutes ago.”

Shit.

Right. The meeting.

I clear my throat, dragging in a ragged breath as I try to calm the raging hard-on threatening to bust through my zipper.

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Totally forgot. I’m ready.”

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