Page 5 of Mountain Daddy's Girl
“She seemed to have an effect, is all.”
I ignore him. It’s not like I can deny it.
What the fuck is she doing?
Instead of returning to the guest quarters, she pulls up the hood of her coat and walks toward the ridgeline. Is she trying to get herself killed?
I’m assuming she’s going to snap some shots of the storm. I admire her dedication to her craft, but this is just ridiculous.
I jog to the exit and grab my coat and pull on my sneakers, not bothering to change out of my shorts. Rain whips at me as I follow her, but I barely feel it. Don’t feel the cold either.
She’s made me too damn hot.
I find her standing way too close to the edge, messing with her camera bag. A sudden gust of wind blows against her and she rocks side to side, almost falling, her arms pinwheel, her hands shoot out for balance.
I quickly rush over to her and pull her into my arms. “What the hell are you doing?” I roar.
“What does it look like?” she yells.
“You’re going to get yourself hurt, Lila.”
I can’t let that happen. Not now, not ever.
“The storm is beautiful.”
“I’m taking you inside.”
“What if I say no?”
“I don’t think you understand. I’mtakingyou inside.”
I’ll protect her even if she’s against the idea. There’s no way I’m letting her get hurt.
She moans when I pick her up and cradle her against my chest. My hand sinks into her thighs. I take a hungry handful, and my other hand braces her back. She gasps and grips my chest, biting her lip in that fuck-me way again.
I might be imagining that look. Don’t get carried away, man.
I can’t help if it she looks so damn fuckable. Kissable. Loveable.
That’s right. Loveable. Her defiant artistic streak and her sassy pout and her determination to pursue her craft.
Pushing my thoughts down, I carry her back toward the guest quarters, down the corridor lined with landscape paintings of Montana and mounted animal heads, and finally to the guest quarters.
“Which one is yours?”
She points to a bedroom. I kick the door open and carry her inside.
“You can …” Her breath picks up speed. “Put me down now.”
She’s getting horny. I can scent it on the air like an animal. I gently put her down. She doesn’t tell me to leave, just stares up at me with water dripping all over her body.
“You need to towel off before you catch a chill,” I growl.
“Yeah … I will.”
“You’ll need some help.” I take her hands in mine. “Your hands are freezing.”
“Oh, you care about me, huh?” she whispers, under her breath, then winces like she didn’t mean to say that.
