Page 6 of One Night with the Mountain Man

“There wasn’t much else for me to do. You don’t appear to own a TV and the ten-year-old issues of fishing and hunting magazines didn’t hold my attention very long.” She gave me a hesitant smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but I used your bathroom to clean up and dug around in your drawer for something clean to put on after.”

Her hair piled on top of her head, and she had on a fresh t-shirt. I walked around the counter to see what she’d found to cover up her bottom half. A pair of my old Army sweats swallowed her up.

I reached for a slice of tomato on the cutting board.

She playfully swatted at my wrist. “You look like you could use a shower before dinner. Why don’t you go get cleaned up while I finish the salad?”

A thick layer of sawdust covered my arms. I wasn’t used to worrying about my appearance, but I thought about how I might look through her eyes. Despite my resistance to getting to know her better, I didn’t want her thinking I was some whack job who lived in the woods. So, I popped the tomato in my mouth and backtracked to the bedroom.

“I’ll be back in five.” Maybe ten if I wanted to take care of the way my cock kept rallying whenever I got around her. I grabbed a towel and turned on the shower. I’d made peace with my decision to live in solitude. My time in the service had taught me how to survive and that included denying any physical needs. There wasn’t anything my right hand couldn’t take care of.

Until now.

I pictured Adelaide standing in my shower. As I gripped the base of my cock and stroked up, I imagined her using the washcloth she’d left hanging from the shower head to soap up her body. Pumping my dick through my fist, I envisioned her parting her legs, sliding the square fabric over her pussy.

Fuck.

Bracing one arm against the wall of the shower, every muscle in my body strained. Thick ropes of cum jetted onto the tile floor and disappeared down the drain.

That wasn’t the end of it though. I’d spilled my seed, but my cock still lingered at half-mast as I pictured Adelaide’s bare backside encased in my sweats. I needed to get myself under control. If taking matters into my own hand wouldn’t do it, only one thing would.

7

ADELAIDE

“Don’t you want some dinner?” I called out to Samuel’s backside as the door slammed behind him. He’d swept through the living room like a fast-moving summer storm. It couldn’t have been something I said because he hadn’t paused long enough to even hear me.

Lucky’s nails tapped on the floor as he walked over to look out the back window. I hobbled over to join him. My ankle still ached but not nearly as much as earlier.

“Where’s he going?” I asked the dog.

He looked up at me and cocked his head. While I stood there, I caught a glimpse of Samuel entering a large metal outbuilding. A light flipped on, and he glanced toward the house. Then he disappeared inside.

Fine. If he didn’t want to enjoy the one meal I knew how to make, it was his loss. I fixed myself a plate and sat down at the table. Lucky planted his butt on the floor next to my chair. I amused both of us by tossing him small chunks of garlic bread. The complete silence weighed on me.

I spun spaghetti around on my fork, but barely put a dent in my dinner. The more I thought about the way Samuel ran out on me, the more pissed off I got. He seemed fine before he went into the bathroom to get cleaned up. It shouldn’t matter to me one way or another how the grumpy mountain man felt about anything, but it did.

Pushing back from the table, I grabbed my plate and carried it over to the sink. He might not be thrilled about putting up with me for the night, but he wasn’t making it easy for me either. It’s not like he had the personality of a bright ray of sunshine. I packed up the rest of the food to save for later. Then I moved to the radio he’d left sitting on the table by the couch.

A burst of static came through the speaker when I turned it on. I picked up the handheld mic and pressed the button. “Anyone out there?”

The speaker crackled and a man’s voice came through. “Deputy Michaels here. Who am I speaking to?”

Hope sparked in my chest. “This is Adelaide Frost. I’m a guest at the Mountain Ridge Resort, and I got lost hiking during the storm yesterday.”

“Adelaide, you’ve got a lot of folks worried about you. Where are you?”

My grip on the mic tightened. Someone had reported me missing. Maybe they were out looking for me right now. “A man found me and brought me back to his cabin. His name’s Samuel something. Can someone come get me?”

“Samuel who?” the deputy asked.

“I don’t know.” My gaze bounced over the walls of the cabin. There was nothing indicating a last name. No framed photos or memorabilia on the wall, no mail on the counter. The magazines. I dropped the mic on the table and reached for one of the old fishing magazines. The address label on the front had worn off. That wouldn’t do me any good.

“If you’re up the mountain, there’s no way we can reach you until the roads dry out a bit. Are you in a safe place?”

“Yes, I believe so.” Defeat pulled me down. I slumped onto the couch.

“We’ll keep this channel open, but with more rain expected tonight the best thing you can do is stay put. I’ll let your family know you’re safe.”

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