Page 15 of Mountain Man's Curvy Girl

It feels surreal—waking up in his bed, his arm draped over my waist, his breath warm against my neck. But it’s real. The soreness in my body and the delicious ache between my thighs are proof enough of that.

I turn my head slightly, just enough to see him. His face is relaxed, his jaw slack, and his dark lashes cast shadows on his cheeks. He looks softer like this, almost boyish, and I can’t help but smile as I reach out to brush a lock of hair from his forehead.

He stirs at the touch, his brows furrowing slightly before his eyes flutter open. They’re soft at first, hazy with sleep, but when his gaze lands on me, they sharpen, and his lips curve into a slow, lazy smile.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep and ten times more devastating than it has any right to be.

“Morning,” I whisper, my cheeks heating under his gaze.

His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. “You sleep okay?”

I nod, my fingers toying with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. Did you?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in years,” he says, his tone so sincere it makes my chest ache. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before shifting to prop himself up on one elbow. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, though my cheeks burn as I glance away. “A little sore, but… good. Really good.”

His hand finds my chin, gently turning my face back to him. “Don’t be shy, Chloe. I want to know how you’re feeling. All of it.”

His eyes search mine, so steady and earnest it’s impossible to look away. “I feel… amazing,” I admit softly. “And safe. And… happy.”

His lips curve into a soft smile, and he leans down to kiss me, slow and tender. “Good,” he murmurs against my lips. “Because that’s all I want—for you to be happy. For you to know how much I care about you.”

My heart skips a beat, and I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, his hand slides down to my hip, pulling me flush against him. I gasp softly, my body already reacting to the hard press of him against my thigh.

“You’re not too sore, are you?” he asks, his voice dipping into that rough, growly tone that makes my toes curl.

“I—I think I’m okay,” I stammer, my cheeks burning.

“Good,” he says again, his lips brushing against my ear. “Because I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart. Not even close.”

Chapter 16

Chloe

The storm has passed, leaving the world outside blanketed in fresh rain that sparkles in the morning light. Ethan’s cabin is quiet, the kind of peaceful that makes you want to curl up and never leave. Not that I could even if I wanted to.

The scent of coffee fills the air, mingling with the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. I’m at the stove, flipping pancakes in one of Ethan’s cast-iron skillets, wearing one of his flannel shirts that’s far too big on me. It’s ridiculous, really, but it smells like him—woodsy, rugged, and a little like the smoke that lingers in the cabin.

I glance over my shoulder, finding him exactly where I left him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He’s shirtless, his flannel pajama pants slung low on his hips, his hair still mussed from sleep.

And he’s watching me.

That’s the part that makes my stomach flip. The way his blue-gray eyes follow every move I make, dark and intense, like he’s memorizing me.

“What?” I ask, my voice softer than I intended.

“Nothing,” he says gruffly, though his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile.

I roll my eyes, turning back to the stove. “You’re staring, Ethan.”

“Yeah,” he says simply, his voice rough and steady. “I am.”

My cheeks heat, and I focus on flipping the last pancake, sliding it onto a plate with the others. I bring them to the table, only to find him already there, sitting at the head of the table like he owns the place—which, of course, he does.

“Here,” I say, setting the plate in front of him before taking the seat across from him. “It’s not much, but—”

“It’s perfect,” he interrupts, his eyes locking onto mine.

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