Page 22 of Brewing with the Mountain Man
No words are needed. She launches herself into my arms and we crash together. The kiss is desperate and deep, like we've been apart for weeks instead of hours.
I carry her inside. We barely make it to the bedroom, clothes scattered in our wake.
I lay her down on the bed and descend on her luscious body.
“Spread those pretty thighs, baby,” I order. “I’m hungry.”
I pin her legs open with my hands, kissing the insides of her thighs, from knee to the ticklish hollow next to her wet center. She’s giggling and squirming until I lap at her pussy like a man starved.
She arches off the mattress, but I don’t stop exploring those sensitive folds, her moans and jerks directing me to her most tender spots. Her taste—wildflower honey and musk—is addicting.
I can’t get enough.
Her muscles clench. “Ledger, that’s…oh fuck!You’re driving me…wild.”
I hum, burying my face in her, listening to her unravel.
When my tongue circles her clit, she starts begging, body trembling under me.
And just a few soft licks and some gentle suction has her moaning like a madwoman, until she detonates.
“Ledger!!” Her climax wracks her whole body, like a violent storm, and I ride it out, slowly easing off until she’s a whimpering mess.
I surge up before she’s stopped shaking, and sheath myself inside her in one firm thrust.
Her moans echo off the walls as she rakes her nails down my back, heels digging into my ass.
Our sweat-slicked bodies move together in a deep, forceful rhythm, moving toward another orgasm.
I almost can’t hold out before she comes again, but I just manage it, growling praise and filthy promises in her ear.
Afterward, as we lie in my bed recovering, Bear has somehow managed to claim the foot of the bed without us noticing.
The words come out without planning: "I love you, Sadie."
She looks up at me, eyes bright. "I love you too."
“We’re nuts,” I say, needing to acknowledge it. "Three days, Sadie. We've known each other three days."
"Four now," she corrects, running her fingers through the hair on my chest. "And I don't care. When you know, you know."
"I guess so," I admit, marveling at the simple truth of it.
Bear chooses that moment to army-crawl up the bed, wedging himself between us with a contented sigh. We both laugh, adjusting to accommodate him.
"Look at us," Sadie says, scratching Bear's ears. "A ready-made family."
Family. I’ve missed that. It feels good to have it back.
Later, she's wearing my shirt again as she helps me bottle beer for the contest, like we've been doing this together for years.
"You sure about all this?" I ask, watching her carefully cap another bottle. "Being with me? It won't be easy. People will talk. They might not understand."
She sets down the bottle and comes to stand in front of me. "I'm sure about you," she says simply. "Everything else will work itself out."
I pull her close, breathing in the scent of her hair. I thought my capacity for connection died in that prison cell. But here she is, proving me wrong with every smile, every touch, every moment she chooses to stay.
My self-imposed exile is ending, but not because of permits or contests. It's ending because I'm finally brave enough to want it, to believe I deserve this second chance.
