Page 11 of Mountain Man Makeover

I plant deep inside of her and fill her with my seed. Nuzzling into her neck, I kiss her pounding pulse and she sighs.

“I hate your hair,” she says with honesty that I expect from her.

“Me, too, sweetheart.”

“But Idefinitelydon’t hate your cock.”

I laugh and roll to her side, pulling her to my chest and she lays her head against me.

There will never come a time that I tire of this woman…

My best friend…

My love.

PERI

I didn’t know that your first time can actually not hurt. I’d been told gruesome stories of pain and bloodshed and sex being something you only did to make a baby. Clearly, none of those women were ever with a man like Orion.

He was my first. My second. My third… fourth. I stopped counting after we ruined the rug in the living room with our excitement. I had no idea my body could produce so many fluids or that my voice could be so erotic or that my body could respond like that.

Or that he could be so gentle and giving.

The bear is more kitten than he lets on to the average person. But I’m feeling like I’m not average anymore. And I don’t think I’m just his friend.

But I don’t want to step too far into the dream and get hurt when the reality hits me either.

When Sunday rolls around, I’m feeling the first brush of soreness. The mild irritation doesn’t dampen my mood. I lick the batter spoon clean as I think about how Orion’s cock felt in my mouth the previous morning.

I snap out of it as the pan hisses its annoyance from being overheated, the oil popping at me.

“Hush,” I order the stove. I giggle to myself. Orion might have fucked me silly. I’m talking to inanimate objects, after all.

As I pour the pancake batter into the pan, the man of the hour —more like weekend— saunters into the kitchen, freshly showered and shaved. We had to readdress the haircut the following day, ensuring that in the heat of things, I had done a decent job.

Of course, I had.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says as he wraps his arms around me. He nuzzles my ear and breathes in the scent of my hair.

“Don’t! I haven't showered.” I playfully shove him off.

“Why would you? You smell like pancakes and sex, two of my favorite scents,” he waggles his eyebrows.

I blush and squirm, the kindling slowly burning before the threat of a flash fire in me.

“Come with me next weekend.” Orion throws a bucket of cold water on that fire when he brings up the reunion. I’m hoping that he’s kidding, but as he leans back against the counter, stealing a piece of bacon, I can see he’s truly still going. There’s not a hint of sarcasm or doubt on his face.

“I didn’t think you were still going.” I flip the pancake in the pan, but the hunger I felt when I got up is no longer there.

“Of course I am. The only thing different is I want you on my arm now.”

My nose wrinkles. “I don’t need nor want to be your arm candy, Orion. I don’t have a thing to prove to those people. And maybe I thought you’d gotten it through your head over the last few days that you didn’t either!” My voice escalates quickly and my heartbeat does the same.

It’s all I can do not to burn the pancake. I throw the golden circle on a plate, turning off the stove and serving it to him. A solitary sad hotcake, it could be my own reflection at this point.

“Enjoy your breakfast.”

This time when I run off, I remember my purse. Orion doesn’t stop me, he just watches in shock, and I make it home in a daze. Even crossing the low bridge without so much as a flinch.

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