Page 114 of The Mountain Echoes
Oh God! What’s going on? I just got to Colorado. I barely know this man who’s taking over my heart. This cannot end well.
You knew Hudson for two years, and how did that end? Maybe it’s not the time you know a person, it’s who that person is, Aria.
Maverick is a good man. Any man who raised a woman like Joy, who is full of such light, can be nothing but decent.
“She’s not coming in there to help wash your back, so stop eyeing her like she’s filet mignon,” Joy cuts in, dry as dust. “She’s gonna keep me company.”
Embarrassed, I look away.
Maverick laughs. “Maybe another time, yeah?” His voice is lower now. Warmer.
I nod like an idiot because I’m tongue-tied.
After dinner, which is easyanddelicious, Joy leaves us, announcing she’s tired, which she’s not, but she’s giving us space.
Maverick pulls me out of my chair and deposits me, effortlessly, onto his lap. I wrap my hands around his neck forbalance.
“You look like a dream,” he whispers, sliding his calloused hands under my dress, over my thighs.
His touch is rough from years of roping cattle and breaking horses, but the way he’s handling me now is anything but. It’s slow, deliberate, like he’s memorizing every inch of my skin.
His fingers trace the curve of my hip, and I can feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of my panties.
My breath hitches. I lean into him, pressing my breasts to him, my mouth on his.
I can hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest, matching the rhythm of my own.
“Aria,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, like whiskey poured over gravel. “You’re so Goddamn beautiful.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, and I can feel the wetness pooling between my thighs.
I love the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only woman in the world.
My lips brush against his, soft, inexorably erotic.
I can taste the faint hint of bourbon on his tongue, and it’s intoxicating.
His hands move to the zipper of my dress.
“I love this,” he murmurs.
“Vera and Nadine wanted me to wear something that’s easy to take off.”
I unbutton his shirt.
We’re doing this. I have no doubts. I want him. He wants me.
“I’ll thank them later.” His voice is rough with desire.
His fingers slip beneath the lace of my panties.
I gasp as he finds my clit, already swollen and begging for attention.
He circles it slowly, teasing me. My hips buck against his hand.
“You’re so wet for me.”
The sound of his voice sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core.
