Page 4 of Bossy Mountain Man

“No, of course I don’t mind. The sooner we get this mess figured out, the better.” A trickle of sweat runs down my back between my shoulder blades, leaving a burning trail of need in its wake. I take a deep breath to cool my thoughts. “Are you going to show me the evidence you have to prove you’re not trespassing?”

“It’s right here.” She picks her phone up from the couch armrest and holds the screen up for my inspection, stepping closer to me. “Right there. I’m the legal resident of this cabin for the next thirty days.”

A quick scan of the information on the screen tells me all I need to know. “You’re right. You did rent a cabin for the next thirty days.”

“I told you so.” A sexy smirk crosses her face, and I almost don’t want to continue our conversation. But there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable.

“Like I said, you rented a cabin, just not this cabin. The cabin you rented is about five miles east of here.”

“Oh.” The sexy smirk falls from her face, and I could kick myself for not breaking it to her easier—even stretching it out so she’d have to stay with me longer. “I guess I’ll change and grab my things. I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.” A sad smile touches her lips, and I could kick myself. “I…um…don’t have a car. Do you know of anyone who could give me a ride to the right cabin?”

Now I’m mad at myself—my once-sexy, confident little squatter has been replaced by a shy, embarrassed woman.

“I have some chores to do today that I can’t put off. How about you spend the night in the guest bedroom, and I’ll take you to the right cabin in the morning?” I’m not sure what possessed me to make the offer, but as the happy smile that replaces the sad one crosses her beautiful face, I’m glad I did.

Now, all I have to do is figure out what chores I need to tackle so my little squatter won’t realize I’m lying to her.

three

Selena

Following Shaw outside ashe chops wood was sheer genius. What better way to describe to my followers the exact ripple of every one of his muscles than to watch him in action?

Not changing out of his flannel shirt was also pure genius. With each downward stroke of his ax against the wood, he lets out a primal grunt that has me squirming in the rocking chair on the back porch, with its spectacular view of the mountains, and an even more stunning view of the sexy shirtless mountain man, with his glistening, sweat-streaked chest taunting me.

My inner thighs are glazed in lust from the sight of him. It doesn’t help that every time he lets out a grunt, I feel it deep in my core, causing more wetness to escape onto my thighs and his shirt.

Whack. Grunt. Squirm.

How can a girl focus on writing her blog with all this sexual energy in the air?

Shifting my hips once more, I search for relief from my throbbing clit, and I catch Shaw watching me through lowered lashes, the hard ridge of his manhood pressing tightly against his jeans.

Unconsciously, I bring a hand to the collar of my flannel shirt and pull it away from my chest, hoping to create a breeze to help cool me off. Shaw’s gaze darts to the opening of the shirt. I glance down only to see I’ve tugged the fabric so far from my chest that you can almost see my bare nipple.

I quickly let the material drop onto my chest and turn my attention to my laptop. The last thing I need is for Shaw to think I’m lusting after him when he obviously doesn’t want to act on the chemistry between us that I know he can feel.

Back to my blog.

Fortunately, I use a fake name and don’t have any photos of my face on social media, so there’s no way my parents can connect me to this part of my life. As far as my parents are concerned, I’m an influencer who blogs about fashion, travel, and all those superficial things.

I wonder how they would react if they knew that was just a side hustle I use to cover my real social media persona, Lena, and my blog, Lena on Me. It started as a fun way to help people on their own path to self-discovery and evolved into a platform for those needing a plus-sized role model, not the slim ideal of a perfect woman.

My articles cover topics from dating advice to navigating life in a superficial world. My readers know that I’m still a virgin and that it’s perfectly fine to remain one until I feel ready to change that status. After meeting my bossy mountain man, I believe I’m ready.

After taking one last look at Shaw and noticing that he’s gone back to chopping wood, I turn to my laptop. It’s time to tell my followers that I’ve met the man I’m going to make love to for the first time, but I want to make it entertaining—hence the mountain cock idea. I mean, really, who doesn’t want a little mountain cock? Or in Shaw’s case, a big mountain cock.

Instead of focusing on the gorgeous hunk in front of me, I lose track of time as I write about the beginning of my adventures in the woods. As I finish the post to invite my followers to tune intomorrow, I smile as I read back the words and how Shaw makes me feel.

“What are you working on?” Shaw’s voice is so close, it’s almost as if he’s right next to me.

I slam my laptop shut. The last thing I need is for Shaw to see what I posted. Not that there’s anything wrong with it; it’s just that my blog is mine. Not even Sienna knows about it, and I tell my sister everything.

“It’s nothing.” I choke on my own spit as Shaw steps onto the porch, reaches down to the cooler next to me, and pulls out a bottle of water. He unscrews the lid and takes a large drink, the muscles in his neck working the water down his throat while beads of excess water rivet down his chest, making me think about him in a shower.

“Here.” He thrusts the half-empty bottle of water toward me. “Drink this.”

I take the bottle from his hands, and our fingers brush against each other, igniting a burning sensation where they touch. “Thanks.” I pull back, lifting the bottle to my lips, needing to create some space between us, until I realize my lips are now on the same spot where his lips just were.

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