Page 16 of Stranded with the Mountain Man

"Is this just physical for you?" I ask, hating the vulnerability in my voice but needing to know."Just getting old ghosts out of our system?"

His expression softens, thumbs tracing gentle circles on my hipbones."If that's all I wanted, I would've taken you that first night." He tucks a curl behind my ear, the tender gesture at odds with the heat in his eyes."This is more than ghosts, Dee.It's always been more with you."

The admission makes my heart stutter.I reach for him, framing his face between my palms."Same. Even when I tried to convince myself I was over you, I never really was."

He captures my mouth again, this kiss slower but no less intense.His hands find the hem of my flannel, pausing there in silent question.I answer by raising my arms, letting him pull the garment over my head.

His sharp intake of breath as he takes in my lace-covered breasts makes me shiver with anticipation."Beautiful," he murmurs, reverence in his voice.

My fingers find the buttons of his flannel, undoing them with trembling hands.He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a chest more muscled than I remember, decorated with tattoos I don't recognize.I trace the ink with curious fingers across the Saints' emblem over his heart, partially covered by a newer design of pine trees silhouetted against mountains.

"Covering the old life with the new," he explains, watching my exploration.

"It's beautiful," I tell him, meaning it.The artistry is exquisite, the symbolism clear.Running from one life to another, just as I had.

His hands slip behind me, deftly unhooking my bra.As the straps slide down my arms, his gaze turns hungry."I've dreamed about this," he confesses, cupping my breasts with calloused hands."About you."

The rough texture of his palms against my sensitive skin draws a gasp from my lips.When his thumbs brush over my nipples, the sensation shoots straight to my core, wetness pooling between my thighs.

"Ross," I breathe, arching into his touch.

He lowers his head, replacing one hand with his mouth.The wet heat of his tongue circling my nipple makes my knees weak, a moan escaping before I can stop it.He responds with a low growl, the vibration adding another layer of sensation.

My hands find his belt, fumbling with the buckle.He pulls back, eyes dark with desire."Slow down, Dee. We've got time."

"Twelve years," I remind him, finally freeing the buckle."I think we've waited long enough."

A smile tugs at his lips. "Always so impatient." He captures my hands, bringing them to his lips."Let me take care of you."

The tenderness in his voice undoes me more than his passion.I nod, surrendering to his pace.

He leads me to the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that belies his strength.His hands find the button of my jeans, sliding them down my legs along with my underwear until I'm completely bare before him.

I should feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at me--like I'm something precious and rare--chases away any self-consciousness.He stands at the edge of the bed, drinking me in with his eyes.

"You're even more beautiful than I remembered," he says roughly.

I push up on my elbows, watching as he strips off his remaining clothes.My breath catches at the sight of him fullynaked with hard muscle and tanned skin, his arousal impressive and unashamed.The years have only enhanced what was already a magnificent body, adding definition and a few scars that speak of a life fully lived.

"Come here," I whisper, reaching for him.

He joins me on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress as he positions himself above me.The first brush of skin against skin is electric, drawing sighs from us both.He captures my mouth again, the kiss deep and consuming as our bodies align.

His hand slides between us, finding the wetness between my thighs.When his fingers brush my center, I gasp against his mouth, hips rising instinctively to meet his touch.

"So responsive," he murmurs appreciatively, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with practiced precision."So perfect."

I whimper as he presses one finger inside, then two, stretching me gently.The pleasure builds quickly, my body remembering his touch despite the years between.He watches my face as he works me higher, clearly enjoying every gasp and moan he draws forth.

"Ross," I pant, feeling the tension coiling tighter."Please."

"Please what?" His voice is rough with restraint, his fingers never stopping their maddening rhythm.

"I need you inside me," I manage, nails digging into his shoulders."Now."

He reaches for the nightstand drawer, retrieving a condom.I take it from his hands, tearing the package open and rolling it onto his length with shaky fingers.His sharp inhale as I stroke him is deeply satisfying.

Then he's positioning himself at my entrance, his eyes locked on mine."You sure about this?" he asks one final time.

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