Page 21 of Merry'd to the Mountain Man
The kiss is deep, unhurried, and full of everything we’ve both been too afraid to say out loud. All the longing, all the laughter, all the love that’s been growing between us since the day I showed up at the diner—it’s all there, blazing between us.
When we finally break apart, I press my forehead against his and whisper, “I love you, Mr. Whitaker.”
He smiles against my lips, that slow, crooked grin that undoes me every time.
“I loved you first, Mrs. Whitaker,” he murmurs.
He kisses me once more—soft and sure—then reaches for my hand. “Let’s go home.”
And this time, I know exactly where home is.
CHAPTER 17
Cole
We make it back to the cabin with only minutes to spare before midnight. The drive up the mountain is quiet, snowflakes falling in the headlights, the world outside quiet.
When I step out of the truck, the cold hits my face, but it doesn’t matter. Frankie’s hand is in mine. That’s all I need.
While the rest of the world is counting down, popping champagne, and ringing in the new year, I’m standing on my porch holding the woman I love, finally free of all the pretending. No contracts. No lies. Just us.
I scoop her up before she can protest, and she lets out a surprised laugh that echoes through the pines. “Cole Whitaker! Put me down!”
“Not a chance,” I say, carrying her across the threshold like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever held—because she is.
Inside, the cabin glows with the warmth of the fire and the faint twinkle of the lights she hung weeks ago. It smells like home. It smells like her.
I set her down, but before I can lean in to kiss her, she grins, mischief flashing in her eyes. “You’re cutting it close, mountainman,” she teases, and just as my lips are about to meet hers, she laughs and darts for the stairs.
I can’t help but laugh too, taking the steps two at a time after her. She’s standing by the bed when I stop in the doorway—our doorway—and everything slows for a heartbeat.
Her hair catches the light. Her cheeks are pink from the cold. Her eyes are soft, filled with a kind of happiness I’ve only ever dreamed about.
She’s beautiful. And I know I’ll never get tired of looking at her.
She reaches behind her, fingers catching the zipper of her dress, sliding it down slowly.
I step forward, the last thread of restraint snapping, and kick the door closed behind me.
The world outside cheers as the new year begins.
Inside, mine already has.
I cross the room two quick steps and pull her into my arms. I need to feel her. I need to taste her.
Her dress drops to a puddle at her feet between us. I drop to my knees, ready to worship her the way I’ve wanted since the first day I laid eyes on her.
“Cole,” she says my name in a whisper, and my cock presses hard against my jeans.
I dip my fingers under the elastic of her panties and pull them slowly over the swell of her hips and down the creamy skin of her legs. The heady scent of her already wet pussy nearly drives me wild, but it isn’t until my tongue licks delicately up her slit that I lose all control.
I grab her hips in a bruising grip and pull her against my mouth, my tongue. Licking and sucking on her pearl of clit and making her scream like a wild woman on this mountain. She can barely catch her breath, as I look up at her and smile. This isjust the start of the night where I claim this woman as my own. I almost let her slip away, but never again. She’s mine.
“On the bed,” I order her, my voice deep and possessing.
A flash of heat glints in her eyes, and I know that she doesn’t mind this wild side of me. In fact, she is ready to submit herself to me completely.
Slowly I strip off my clothes one piece at a time. Watching her struggle to stay still, her fingers gripping the blanket.
