Page 6 of Autumn Feud With The Mountain Man
Plus, she was one of those fancy types.
Cool. Calm. Collected. Clipped.
In charge. In control. I bet her entire life was scripted out, and something told me it didn’t involve a date with my cock. So I told it to chill out and stop acting so affected by the sharp flash of her eyes.
They narrowed slightly when she spotted my truck coming down the road.
I hopped out at my first stop. Then got back in the truck and inched it forward, stopping at the next business, and the next.
Then I was at the bookstore, just two doors down from the law firm. Her eyes never left me, tracking my movements the entire way.
I hopped back in my truck, inched forward another ten feet to the bakery. Hopped out, got the trash and threw it in the back of the dump truck.
Why was my heart galloping in my chest?
Her stop was next, and I was about to come face to face with the vixen who had dominated my dreams lately. How many dreams had I had of this woman? Too many to count.
Just last night she’d slammed my bedroom door open, shouting curses at me before pushing me back on the bed, yanking down my pajama bottoms and wrapping those wicked lips of hers around my cock. It had been the only thing to shut her up, my cock stuffed in her mouth.
What adream.
I’d woken up right as I came. Which was insane. I hadn’t had a wet dream in twenty years until she came along.
My jaw set tight as I hopped in the truck and inched forward until I was right in front of the law firm.
Hopping out, I ambled slowly to the can, pretending to be unaffected by her wicked charms.
“Well, howdy, ma’am. Are you the welcome committee today? You know, funny thing, my boss said you never called. Are you sure you don’t want his number?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, a vicious tilt to her lips.
“Don’t fuck with me, Thatcher.”
I grinned. “So you know who I am.”
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Your business operation is inefficient. I called Moody and Sons. They operate down south in Loblolly. I pitched them an idea, and they gave me a quote that would reduce trash costs to the residents of Deer Springs by twenty-five percent.”
I stumbled over my words. “You’re fucking with me because you forgot to take the trash out?”
She leaned forward and tilted her chin up, close enough now that I could smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume. It was something strong and fancy, a scent I’d never smelled before.
When our eyes locked, she said, “Thatcher Woods. I’m not fucking with you. I’mowningyou. From now on, you pick up the trash here at Stillson Law every week like clockwork. If I forget to bring it to the curb, you haul your sweet ass to the front door and come get it yourself. Do we have an understanding?”
No one had ever called me a smart man. That’s probably why I ran trash for a living. And I’d never backed down from a fight.
The reckless side of me didn’t have any common sense. So I drawled, “You sure you want to own me? I might be too much for you to handle.”
“I can handleanythingyou throw at me, Thatcher.”
She practically dared me to take it a step further. So I did. Oops.
Stepping in close, I rumbled, “I tell you what, hon. I’ll let youownme as long as you remember to suck my cock like a good little girl whenever I come inside to pick up your trash. We’ll call it a personalized pickup fee payable at the time of service.”
A delicate flush landed on her cheeks. It was the first sign of humanity I’d seen in her.
Then her posture stiffened, and I could tell she was on high alert, everything in her screaming fight or flight. And this one didn’t know how to flee. Which meant we were in for one hell of a fight.
