Page 9 of Dear Mountain Man
“What’s almost two years?”
I turn around to look at her. "The amount of time we lost that we could have been together." Emery starts to open her mouth like she wants to argue with me, but I need to get this out. I need to tell her. "Because I can assure you that I wouldn't have hesitated a moment to make my move if I knew you felt a fraction for me as I feel for you."
Emery pushes to her feet and walks over to me. “Why do you think what I feel is only a fraction?”
"Because what I feel for you consumes me. I've learned to tamp it down, but sometimes when I can't get you out of my mind, I get lost just thinking about you."
Emery steps closer, her soft curves pressed against me. I loop my arm around her waist and pull her tighter against me. I know that she can feel my hard cock, but I don’t care. I don’t want to waste another moment.
The sound of a deep voice clearing his throat startles us, and we both step back from one another. We turn and see Patrick and Jera holding hands, each trying to hold back the smiles on their faces.
"Son," Patrick says. "I know you planned on taking Jera back with you tonight, but I'm wondering if I could pay to have you pick her up tomorrow instead."
"It's getting late, and we aren't ready to let go," Jera adds, looking lovingly up at Patrick.
He smiles down at her, and for a moment, I swear, it looks like all the years they've lost fade away on their faces. And they are young and in love.
“That’s not a problem,” I assure them.
If ever there was a time where I understood not wanting to let go of the woman I love, this was it.
We make plans for a pick-up in the morning. I'm eager to get back up in the air. Not because I have to race the sunlight to get back home, but I'm eager to be alone with Emery finally.
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6
EMERY
On the flight back to Frontier, Jack and I decide that it's probably best not to make it known to everyone else about whatever is blooming between us. We don't need curious eyes watching our every move, whispering to one another about what they've seen.
“Meet me at my place,” I whisper to Jack before we get out of the plane.
“Why are you whispering? The doors are closed. No one can hear us.”
“Why are you trying to ruin my fun of sneaking around?” I ask, half teasing.
He holds up his hands in surrender and whispers back, “My apologies. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I avoid walking through the airport to get to my car. I don’t want anyone to stop me and try and start up a long-winded conversation about the weather or how good the fishing is going.
When I get home, I quickly pick up around my small apartment—tossing the clothes laying on the floor into the hamper and filling my sink with all the dishes I'll wash later. I jump in the shower and rinse off, careful not to get my hair wet. I don't need him showing up with my hair damp, and it dries in a crazy way that makes me look like I've just jammed my finger in an electrical socket.
I slip on a ribbed cami dress that clings tightly to my curves. I've waited so long for this. I don't want there to be any confusion about what is going to happen tonight.
Twenty minutes later, on the dot, there is a knock at my door. I fluff my hair and push up my boobs one last time before I open the door. Jack fills the doorway with his tall frame and broad shoulders. Heat instantly pools between my legs when I see the lust look in his eyes as he takes me in.
“You look beautiful,” he says, looking me up and down.
“Thank you,” I feign like I didn’t just frantically try to look my best for him. “I thought I’d slip into something more comfortable.”
"Well, it definitely looks comfortable—among other things." He chuckles. "Can I come in?"
I step back and let him step inside. He looks around the small studio apartment with interest until the sound of the door clicks shut. He spins around and crushes his lips against mine in a bruising kiss. It takes my breath away, but I still can’t get enough.
Jack wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. Even through the denim of his jeans, I can feel the hard press of his cock against my lower belly. His hands explore the curves of my body—from my breasts to my ass as he deepens the kiss between us. I feel like my body is on fire for him.
I push his jacket off his shoulders and yank up his t-shirt to pull over his head. My fingertips trace down the hard contours of his muscled chest down to the deep V cut at his hips. That V can make a sane girl go crazy. Lock me up and throw away the key if it means I get to spend one glorious night with this man.
