Page 2 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

The snow hisses where it hits the flames on the car. From behind, tire tracks vanish under fresh powder—but no skid marks.

They didn’t brake.

They fucking rammed my car.

He tries to set me down. My knee buckles. Pain explodes through my leg.

“Fuck—” I gasp as the ground tilts. But he catches me again—effortless.

“I’ve got you.”

“My leg… my head…”

I’m spinning. Slipping. But he holds me like I’m weightless. Like I’m his.

I hear shouts muffled by the storm, and make out shadowed figures approaching.

Two other men appear before me—carved from the same fantasy.

Green eyes that pin me in place.

Broad shoulders that promise ruin.

That same raw, dangerous energy wrapped in flannel and testosterone.

Even with everything burning, even with my memory fractured and gone… I feel the heat building between my thighs.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Who are you?” I manage. “What happened?”

“You’re okay, Anya,” the tallest one says gently.

“Who the hell is Anya?” I breathe.

“She doesn’t remember,” the third one mutters. “Shit.”

“She’s going into shock,” someone says. “We need to get her to the lodge.”

“What about the other car?”

“What other car?” I whisper, my head falling back.

“Shit. She’s fading,” says the biggest one. “Whoever it was—gone. And the bastards left her to die.”

I try to speak, but the words won’t come.

The last thing I see before the darkness swallows me whole is their eyes—fierce, protective, and maybe… burning with something else.

* * *

“Doc, you’re cutting out.”A man’s voice pierces the fuzziness of my scattered, confused thoughts. A timeline comes together ever so slowly, but it’s fractured and incomplete. “Say that again.”

“I think the cell tower is going to fail soon,” another man says.

His voice is similar in tone and timbre. I think they’re related. They have the same green eyes I saw earlier, or was it ages ago? I’m not sure.

I feel so weak.

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