Page 10 of The Beast of the Mountain
I swear if she moans again I might come in my pants.
“Good?” I grit out, swallowing hard as I readjust myself in my seat.
Lips. Lips. Fucking lips. They’re cherry-red and softer than velvet I bet. I want to drag my thumb across them. I want to cup her face and capture them. Tug them with my teeth. Scrub them with my fucking tongue.FFFFUUUCK.
I’m gripping the fork so hard that it bends in my fist.
“Heavenly,” Riley finally says, her throat bobbing as she swallows.
She licks her lips and I swallow the growl rising in my chest, dipping my chin to my chest and sealing my eyes shut as the urge to flip this damn table and launch myself on Riley rockets through me.
Calm.Down.
I’ve already come on too strong. I know it. I told her how I felt and she wanted to stay at the Inn instead of with me. I’m lucky that the Inn was full, and she came back with me. Now I need to calm down and not scare her away. I need to show her that this mountain is perfect for her. She can write in peace—hell she can go back to the city whenever she needs to for her meetings so long as she comes back home where she belongs.
With me.
Images of a future with Riley flash in my mind. She’s on the front porch, hand over her swollen belly. Twins in the yard, running everywhere. I finish chopping wood, head up the front stairs, and take her into my arms, dipping her low as I capture her lips.
I can almost taste their sweetness. I can almost feel their softness. I can almost?—
“Bear?”
Riley’s staring at me, amusement playing across her features as another forkful hovers near her lips.
“Are you okay? It looks like you were in another world.”
I swallow. “Mom’s cobbler can do that to a person, right?”
She nods, sliding another bite into her mouth as my cock throbs, seconds away from pulsing. I bite my bottom lip as my fingers dig into the table, and it’s just enough of a distraction.
It’s a chore to get a bite of my cobbler, my fork all bent out of shape, but I make do. Heavenly, just as I remember. But I’m sure Riley’s lips would taste sweeter. And I’d never get my fill.
Thunder cracks, rattling the walls of my cabin and making Riley jump in her seat.
“Wow,” she says. “I’m not usually so jumpy.”
“Storms in Whispering Winds can be intense. But I promise you, there’s no place safer than this cabin.”
Rain hammers the roof and windows as lightning flashes. Lights flicker but they’ll stay on. Even though this cabin was built well over a century ago, my family has made some improvements over the years. The generator will keep the lights on.
“Did you build it yourself?”
“No. This cabin was built back in the 1800s. It was no man’s land back then. Harsh and wild.”
“Mountain lions galore,” Riley says.
I laugh. “Probably. My family’s been here for generations. Mining. Lumbering. They did it all. Whatever they could to make ends meet.”
I awkwardly scoop up a bit of cobbler, the fork damn near at a ninety-degree angle. I take a bite, remembering the stories my grandpa used to tell about his grandpa’s grandpa. It’s strange how everything’s changed, but some things haven’t changed at all.
If my great-great-great-great-great grandpa wandered back onto the property, he’d be shocked at the few upgrades, but after that—everything else would be the same. I still fish out of the same river. I hang my clothes on the line between the posts he erected. There may be less wildlife and more roads, but the way of life has basically remained the same.
I’m proud to keep it going.
I swallow hard. Won’t happen if I don’t find a wife. I’d never thought about it. Not until Riley slammed into my life. She has me thinking about my life differently. She’s right. Now that Ithink about it, it’s lonely on the mountain. Wouldn’t mind a partner.
So long as it’s Riley. There’s no one else but her.
