Page 3 of Mountain Daddy's Girl
My nipples are getting warm and prickly, pushing with insistence against my bra. My lips—not my mouth, my lip-lips—are throbbing as if needy for attention. My clit aches like it wants his touch, this stranger.Get a grip, Lila.
“I’m Boone McGraw,” he says. “Not famous, but notnotfamous either. Maybe you’ve heard of me?”
“I don’t watch much bloodsport.”
“U-huh, youdolook like the delicate flower type.” He leans closer, his hot breath shivering over my face, my neck. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that; I mean that. Makes a nice change around here.” He points to the cage. “That there is Evan. One of the best fighters in the whole U S of A.”
I think about what I just saw. Boone handling the younger wolf like it was a game.
Boone smirks, still way closer than a stranger should be. I can’t pretend I don’t like it. But, I try to play it cool.
“This is the part where you tell me your name.”
“Lila,” I say. “Mayfield. I’m here to get some photos for my final college project.”
“Hear that, Evan?” he says, taking a step back. “The cute city girl is having a lucky day. We’d just love to be your subjects. We’ve got another round in us.”
“Actually … that could work. I wanted unique and interesting photos.”
“Oh, you think I’m interesting, Lila? I’ve got to say; the feeling is mutual.”
My cheeks burn so intensely, I’m sure they must be turning red.
“Would you really not mind?” I ask, looking at the floor.
His gaze is relentless.
“Our pleasure.”
He turns, jumps back into the cage as though it’s the easiest thing in the world.
As I take my camera from the bag, I squeeze my legs together in an attempt to quieten down the aching desire. It only makes it worse. I’m wet, I realize.
And not from the rain.
Just talking to and staring at Boone has me wetter than the weather.
2
BOONE
I’ve never known myself to go nuts over the artistic type, but damn, she’s something else. Her hoodie and her jeans stick wetly to her curvy body. Her eyes are wide and naïve, and already, I’m thinking of how she’d look as I slipped into her mouth, the shock and the hunger as she gasped and owned me.
Fuck. That’s it.
Shehas the control.
Standing there with her little cold hands on her camera, biting her lip as she aims it at the cage. It’s not just her body, either. There’s an artistic quality to her that inundates me with fantasies of a should-be-impossible future.
Kids, white picket fence, the whole nine yards.
I go into autopilot as Evan and I fight; don’t even realize I’m beating the fuck out of him until Lila sets her camera down and races over to the cage. Her big, gorgeous tits bounce in her hoodie. The fabric might as well be giftwrap waiting to be torn apart.
“That’s enough!” she yells.
I back up, chuckling.
Evan stands, a tough look on the kid’s face. “No offense, ma’am, but this is the nature of the game.”
