Page 20 of The Wounded Mountain Man

He continues thrusting into me, and as much as I'm enjoying getting my hole stretched out, I'm jolted back to reality. "Wait. Your hip."

"It's fine," he grits out, slapping my ass and tightening his grip on my hair. "I've got a lesson to teach you."

"Are you sure?" He slaps my butt again. "I'll take that as a yes and shut up."

"Good."

The first week we had sex, I was so caught up in what we were doing, I totally forgot about his hip. But after we sat down and talked about it—look, Mom, we're adulting!—he fessed up and told me he can only handle about ten minutes of fucking before it starts hurting him.

Ever since then, I've always set a trusty timer to make sure we never exceed his limit and check in with him more often during. So far, it's proven fruitless. I think his leg could literally be on fire, and he'd still insist he was fine and that we should keep going.

I reach over and grab the timer from the edge of the bed.

1:31

1:30

1:29

I start jerking myself off, meeting each of his thrusts by pushing back a little, hoping it gives him as much pleasure as he gives me.

To say I've never been this wild before is an understatement. But even though Wade brings out this new, adventurous, fun side of me, it still feels like I'm being myself. I'm not putting on an act or becoming someone else, I'm just accessing a part of me that had never been unlocked.

Until him.

We both get off with fourteen seconds to spare. I make sure he's comfortable on the bed, scanning his face for any signs of pain or discomfort. Once I'm confident he's okay, I slip into the bathroom, clean myself up, and grab a washcloth to do the same to him.

His dick is softening but still plump in my hands as I carefully wipe away all the lube. We both got tested last week, and once we got the all clear, we ditched the condoms.

"To answer your question from before," Wade says, stroking my face.

I finish cleaning him off and look up. "I asked a question?"

He chuckles. "About Tex. Hattie."

"Oh, right."

"He did mention her, actually. And we've come up with a plan."

I leave the washcloth on the floor and climb into bed and snuggle next to him. "What sort of plan?"

"You'll see." He circles his finger over my shoulder. "Come down to the diner after work tomorrow and find out."

11

Wade

There are two things I've realized as I've been fixing things around the diner these past few weeks.

One, the more I look, the more I find other things that need attention—broken floor tiles, the strange noise coming from the exhaust fans in the kitchen, the old plumbing, the parking lot that needs resurfacing. I could go on, the list is endless.

And two, most of those issues require more than just one set of hands.

That's where Tex, Lance, Cliff, Mitch, and Bronson come in. I was telling them about the sorry state of the diner, as well as the lack of clients, when Tex offered, and the others unanimously agreed, to help out. So that's what we've spent the day doing. We closed the diner for a day and started with the easy fixes that we can do quickly and that don't require parts being ordered in, and we're working our way up.

"Whoa. What's going on here?" Logan asks, loosening his tie as he steps into the diner. He's fresh from work and in the sexy corporate clothes I love ripping off him. "And why is there aClosedsign on the door?"

"Impromptu working bee," I answer, tipping my head toward Tex. "All his idea."

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