Page 8 of Stolen By the Mountain Man

Now, he definitely made an expression. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open. But his expression quickly returned to neutral as he pulled into his driveway, going around to the back as he’d done earlier that day when he brought me here for the first time.

When he came to a stop and cut the engine, he looked over at me. “Are you saying you want to make love?”

Make love. That didn’t sound like the way he’d normally put it. A guy like him would say something much less romantic when he was talking about sex with his buddies, I was guessing.

“Fuck,” I said. “Smash, bump, pound.”

Now he was frowning. Hey, another expression. I was doing pretty well at getting him to react.

“I don’t—” he started.

“I was just thinking of the way you probably normally refer to sex,” I interrupted. “You’re prettying it up for me, aren’t you?”

He gave a subtle nod. “I guess I am. You’re a lady. I don’t talk like that in front of ladies.”

“I don’t want to be a lady tonight,” I said. “I want to see what you’re packing in those jeans.”

That brought back the expression from before—the raised eyebrows and open mouth. There was just one problem with all of this. I was a virgin.

My sister was twenty-seven. I had no idea if she was a virgin or not, but she’d been in a serious relationship for seven years. The whole reason she used the dating app in the first place was that she was hurt over the breakup. Mostly she was hurt over being strung along for so long, only for it to not end in marriage.

Yeah, my sister definitely wasn’t a virgin. The question was, had she mentioned it at any point in her emails to Isaac? I’d gone through a lot of them, but what if I missed one? What if she’d actually told him about her past sexual experiences?

“Why don’t we go in and have some dessert?” he asked.

He didn’t wait for my answer, just opened the door. That left me wondering if dessert was a euphemism for sex. Or was he saying dessert was a way to sober me up a little?

I wasn’t drunk. A little tipsy, yes, but all it had done was give me the courage to say what I’d been thinking all day. To request what I’d been dying to do starting at some point during that ridiculously long ride from the airport to his cabin. Okay, maybe before that. I’d brought myself to orgasm thinking of him more times than I could count over the past month. I’d basically been wet for him for fourteen straight days.

He was holding the door to the basement as I stepped out of the SUV. I proved to him I was sober by walking a straight line without veering once.

I liked the way I felt right now—lightly buzzed and horny as hell. Did that sound unladylike? Probably. But tonight, I didn’t want him to think of me as some delicate flower. I wanted him to fuck me, not make love to me.

“I’ll go get dessert and bring it down here,” he said. “See if you can find a movie.”

I opened my mouth to protest and closed it again. He didn’t notice. His back was to me as he locked the outside door behind him and headed upstairs, leaving me standing there, looking around.

I could settle into one of those chairs, sure. We’d have dessert and watch a movie and maybe, at some point, I’d let my hands wander. Or maybe his would wander.

That would be the way a twenty-three-year-old would handle it. A twenty-seven-year-old wouldn’t do that, though. A twenty-seven-year-old would have the confidence to show him exactly what she wanted to do.

My heart was racing as I rushed to undress, then folded my clothes and set them over near the counter where I’d put my purse. I looked around and had another idea.

I grabbed one of the golf clubs we’d used earlier when we were playing, plus some balls. I barely had time to set the balls on one of the greens and turn toward the stairs when I heard thecreak, creakthat indicated he was returning.

Deep breaths, I reminded myself. I inhaled, then exhaled slowly, hoping it would slow my racing heart. I certainly didn’t want to pass out before anything could happen.

Isaac had a bowl in each hand, spoon sticking out of each. I saw that as he rounded the railing and turned in my direction. His gaze scanned the room, then finally landed on me. I was sure he was going to drop both bowls. That wouldn’t be good. The last thing I wanted to do was clean up a mess right now.

“Holy fuck,” he said.

That was when it hit me. I was naked in front of a man for the first time ever. A man I was supposed to marry. A man who might change his mind about that once he knew the truth.

Maybe I should tell him now. Maybe I should spill all. But then he definitely wouldn’t sleep with me, and I’d have to go home knowing I’d never fulfilled my fantasy. I’d wonder for the rest of my life what might have happened if I’d kept my mouth shut.

So I kept my mouth shut.

“You’re…”

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