Promised to the Mountain Man: Thickwood, CO Read online

  I feel his hot breath on my slit before I notice him leaning in. It’s like he can’t help himself for another second. His tongue lightly drags up my lips and circles my clit, and I feel heat and tingling excitement pulse through my entire body. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, even with my own hands. Or the showerhead back in my old bathroom.

  I let out a whimpering cry, pressing my hand to my mouth as his licks get bolder, deeper, more impatient and more intense. Holt reaches up and takes my elbow, moving my hand away from my mouth. My cries get louder and he responds by intensifying what he’s doing. It’s like he’s reading my body. He knows exactly what I want, when I want it. How I want it.

  The quickening circles and up and down laps are starting to make my legs shake, and Holt responds by continuing exactly as he was. He is perfection, bringing me to the crest of the most intense orgasm of my life just with the tip of his tongue, his soft lips, his warm breath.

  Soon I’m screaming, and he won’t let me cover my mouth, cover my face, do anything to dampen the noises I’m making. He wants to hear my pleasure.

  I bite my lip hard as the last shakes rattle through me and I lie still, wetter than Niagara Falls, as Holt climbs up my body and whispers in my ear how incredible I am.

  My ears are ringing. I can barely hear him, but I manage to get myself together enough to scramble for his belt buckle. All that did was make me ready for more.

  I’m not finished — not even close.

  Finally, his belt is undone and his pants are off, leaving only boxer briefs tented at the front with a huge, steel-hard cock I am aching to touch and taste. I free him, watching his member bob, and I lean in close and lick around the head. Holt groans, and the sound of him enjoying my mouth resets me. I’m so ready to come again, my whole body is screaming for his cock. For his hands. For his mouth. I’ve never wanted anything or anyone like this.

  I know I’ve made the right choice.

  His cock is salty and warm in all the right ways. It’s sexy and hot and intimate in a way I’ve never known, and never really imagined. Having this man in my mouth is like having all the control. When I slide my lips up and down his thick, hard shaft, I can control his grunts and groans and make him breathe faster and faster just the way I want to.

  “You’re amazing,” he says, running his fingers through my hair. I take him as far as I possibly can, and then slide my lips all the way to the tip again, swirling my tongue in circles. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

  It’s fun to alternate between taking as much of him in my mouth as I can, feeling him hit the back of my throat, and playing my tongue over the head of his cock. I can taste his arousal, feel the tightening of his balls in my hand as I lick him.

  He’s close. I know that almost instinctively from the shallowness of his breath, the tangling of his fingers in my hair.

  It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever encountered, bar none. This man is putty in my hands — mouth — whispering things to me, ready to explode because of me and me alone.

  “I’m close,” he says. “I’m so close.”

  His words drive me crazy, and I’m so turned on by the knowledge of what I’m doing to him that I feel like I desperately need his mouth on me all over again.

  I only go deeper, upping the suction on his cock, loving the taste as he runs his hands over my skin, groans my name, and fills my mouth.

  I feel his come running down my throat, hot and salty, and I lick him clean. I still want him, still need him. The feeling has only grown, not dissipated at all. He’s staring down at me, stroking my hair, looking at me like I’m the only other person on Earth.

  “Hattie, have you ever dreamed about making love under the stars?”

  I consider his question a bit… because of course I have, but how could he have possibly known that? It’s a wish I’ve had that I’ve never thought to share with anyone. I’ve never had the opportunity to share it with anyone. I’m thrilled at the thought that he might share some of my innermost wants. And that he’s willing to say them out loud.

  It’s late, and dark outside, and the thought of the cool night air on my hot skin sounds incredible. I bite my lip instead of answering, and he understands. The nighttime must be so fresh, so crisp, so amazing all the way out here. Away from the city, the sirens, the shouting, the light pollution. Out here, it would really just be us, the heat of our skin, and the light of the stars.

  “That sounds perfect,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

  He takes my hips in his huge hands and lifts me to my feet, looking my naked body up and down. I’ve never seen such a huge, hard cock in my life, and I resist the urge to grab him and taste him again as he leads me quietly up the stairs to the roof of his beautiful cabin.

  The night breeze feels exactly as I imagined, except it’s a couple of degrees colder. Holt notices me wrapping my arms around myself and he comes in close, curving an arm around my waist and instantly making my skin flush red.

  The combination of his touch and the cool air has my nipples rock hard and sensitive, and when Holt’s fingers brush against my breasts, a shiver runs through my body.

  In front of us on the roof is a little hideaway. A telescope, a futon, and a canvas roof to shelter us from wind strung up with fairy lights, which he reaches over to switch on. Giving me a full-on view of his toned ass.

  Soon we’re snuggled up in the hideaway, a blanket thrown over us, and I nuzzle into his neck as he points out the stars above.

  “You see that bright one?” he asks, and though my eyes are heavy with comfort, I follow his finger and nod. “And the two on either side. That’s Orion’s Belt.”

  “And that one?” I ask. “Is that the North Star?”

  He chuckles. “It is. You can almost always see it if the night is clear.”

  “I’ve never seen it,” I say. “I hardly ever saw stars in LA.” I smile, feeling the weight of his arms around me. “This is exactly what I’ve been wishing for.”

  He buries his face in my hair for a moment, kissing me. “I’m glad,” he says.

  I bite my lip, afraid of smiling so wide I’ll look crazy. But I’m glad too. I’m more than glad.

  This is bliss.

  Seven

  Holt

  Her lips are so perfect, so red and soft. I have to cup her cheeks in my hands and lift her face to meet mine. Over and over again. I don’t know how much time I have with this beauty, but I plan on making the most of it.

  My cock is already hard again — already aching for her. I wasn’t kidding around when I said I wanted her under the stars. But I also wasn’t kidding around when I said that this stuff, for me, isn’t casual.

  I don’t care if it’s sappy. I don’t care how much the other guys in town tease me for it — when I find the right woman, I’ve always said I’m going to lock it down and do this thing for real.

  It stings a hell of a lot to think about the fact that Hattie is going to head home soon. Back to that world, that life. The one that broke her down and made her cry in a stranger’s house today. But I don’t think there’s anything I could or should do to stop her if she’s made up her mind.

  My cock, still bare and throbbing hard at the fact that it’s brushing against the skin of her inner thigh, is begging for her. She licks her lips and brushes her fingers along my shaft. I let my eyes close and just feel her. I’m electrified with desire like I never have been before. Not even as a teenager.

  I pull her closer, running my hands up and down the smooth contours of her body and kissing her deeply and passionately. I roll her onto her back so I can get a full view of her petite body, and I kiss every part of her flesh I can reach while pushing her knees apart to reveal that sweet, pink pussy.

  I think she notices that I’m taking my time — not quite hesitating, but not quite not — because Hattie takes my face in her hands and looks me in the eye. She has a beautiful, naughty smile on her face. “I’m ready, Holt. I’m sure. I want you
.”

  God, her words do things to me. Just the fact that this sweet but fiery virgin burst into my life like this and now she wants me to take her… it’s almost too much to take in, but I’m here and ready to savor every second.

  “I want you too,” I tell her as she squeezes the base of my cock and feels me twitch in her hand. I position myself, carefully, right at her ready and willing entrance. I can feel how wet she is. How warm she’ll be. I can tell she really has been waiting for this moment forever.

  In a way, so have I.

  She bucks her hips, silently begging for my cock, and I can feel precome beading at the tip as I think about how incredible she is going to feel. I inch inside, and she wraps her legs around my waist, knees trembling as I fill her bit by bit. I feel her channel squeezing, stretching to accommodate me, and she writhes underneath me.

  “God, Holt,” she says, her face pink and her breath coming quick. “Don’t stop.”

  I’m all the way inside her, and I love the filthy image of our bodies grinding together. Of my cock sliding, so wet, in and out of her.

  Soon I’m pumping, thrusting, and then pounding the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Under the light of the stars, Hattie cries out. Her ankles are on my shoulders and she’s grinding her hips to meet my thrusts. Together we’re creating a rhythm of our own, and coupled with her cries, and then my groaning, we’re making the most primal, most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. I’m so close, and I can’t wait to fill this girl up for the first time in her life.

  I rub circles on her clit with my thumb as I fuck her. She arches her back and cries out as she climaxes, and the aftershock sends shivers down my cock that push me over the edge too. We come together under the night sky, lit up by the soft moonlight. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I’m overcome by the thought that I might never have met her.

  I kiss her gently but deeply, and hold her tight in my arms as she catches her breath.

  “That was everything I ever imagined,” she whispers. “And then some.”

  I tuck her long curls behind her ear and kiss her again. I can’t get enough. I know now, with certainty, that I will never get enough of her.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll go get breakfast,” I say, thinking about the uneaten dinner in the pot downstairs and knowing we’ll both be ravenous when we wake up after tonight. I pull her close and think about the big city she’s from. The place her dad rules over with an iron fist. I want her to know that we have stuff here, too. That maybe leaving isn’t the only choice she has.

  “Mm,” she says, eyes fluttering shut. “Pancakes.”

  “There’s a place opposite my supply store in town. A pretty good diner,” I tell her.

  “You have a store?” she asks, eyes opening again as I stroke her cheek with my thumb.

  “Yup, outdoor supplies.”

  “You some kind of outdoorsman?”

  I crack a smile. “I guess. You’re not?”

  Hattie laughs. “I’ve always wanted to be… but I never could. You hike?”

  “I hike,” I say.

  “Hiking sounds like the most peaceful thing,” she says. “Let’s do it together sometime.”

  “Honestly,” I tell her, “that sounds like a dream come true.” I kiss her again, and then again, and then after a second, she pulls away.

  “If there’s time before I…” She trails off, and I don’t want her to finish her sentence. I don’t really want to think about that at all. So I just smile.

  “McKenzie’s, the diner, has great pancakes. That’s the only thing you need to think about right now. Pancakes. Okay?”

  She grins up at me, grateful. “Okay.”

  We lie together and I stare up at the stars above as her breathing slows, becoming even, soft. She’s asleep in my arms, and up here with nothing but open air and the sound of rustling leaves, I feel like I’m in heaven.

  My eyes must finally close at some point because suddenly the sun is threatening to rise again, and the smell of hot smoke wakes me with a cough. I sit up and rouse Hattie, who grumbles and waves the heavy air away.

  “What’s going on?” she chokes out, and I scramble to my feet, helping her back inside. The forest around us is orange and crackling with flames closer than any forest fire has been before. My chest feels cold with panic as we hop around, pulling our clothes on.

  “Fire,” I say, although she can already see as much out the windows. “We have to go. We have to get out of here.”

  Eight

  Hattie

  This… this is the kind of thing that would never happen in a penthouse in LA. A forest fire right outside Holt’s door? That’s what jerked us out of bed this morning. I’d hoped to wake up to something slightly more pleasant. Like his cock, hard and ready again, pressed against my ass. Or maybe the smell of fresh coffee.

  But no. It’s hard to feel positive, despite how incredible last night was, when things keep going terribly wrong.

  Holt is throwing open the door to his truck, an arm across his face and a phone to his ear. “Come on!” he yells, and with a jump, I realize it’s me he’s talking to. I’d been mesmerized, staring out at the orange glow of the forest creeping ever closer. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. “Hattie! In the truck!”

  I run and pile in and soon we’re barreling down the mountain for supplies. Holt leaps out at his store, named after him and everything — such a cute-looking place. How did I ever think a guy like this could be involved with my father? I gaze across the street at McKenzie’s, the diner he promised he’d take me to. I’m dreaming about pancakes when Holt hops in the truck again. He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

  “The guys are coming right behind us,” he says. “The sheriff and the fire department. It won’t get the cabin. I hope.”

  “Let’s get back,” I urge. “Jimbo.”

  Holt’s truck is going as fast as it can, weaving on those hairpin turns all the way back up the mountain. It’s been minutes, really, but it feels like so much longer when I think about the poor dog watching the flames close in.

  We leap out of the truck and Holt secures a behemoth of a hose to an outdoor tap and gets to work dousing the trunks and leaves of the nearest trees, and then the wood sides of the cabin itself.

  The next few minutes are a blur. It’s clear the back of the cabin is crackling with flames. Embers tossed around by the morning wind have settled on Holt’s home, and his hose, however long, just isn’t enough. The fire truck is coming and I can hear the sirens, but Holt shakes his head and turns to me.

  “Hattie, stay here,” he commands. I haven’t known him a long time, but I get the feeling he doesn’t usually speak so firmly, so I freeze in place.

  He runs into the burning cabin. The fire crew screeches to a halt and starts setting up their own hoses, yelling to each other over the roar of the fire. I feel weak at the knees, unable to help, smoke clogging up my lungs, but I manage to point into the house. “He’s in there.”

  I can see smoke pouring off the top of the cabin. The glow of fire inside through the windows. I collapse into a fit of coughs, and one of the firemen pulls me back before I even know what’s happening.

  Even the sheriff is here, talking into his radio at the edge of the forest, one finger in his belt loop, calling over to the head of the fire department. They all work tightly around one another like they’ve been doing it all their lives, which maybe they have. If my eyes didn’t sting so bad, and my stomach wasn’t a roiling pit of worry, I’d be enjoying watching this choreographed emergency response right now.

  It’s clear everyone knows everyone here, and the sheriff even gives me a squinty glance as he tries and fails to place me. I give him a small wave, and he steps over.

  “Elliot Shepard,” he says, shaking my hand with vigor. “Are you all right? Do we need a medic?”

  “Holt’s inside,” I cough. “Are they going in to get him?”

  Sheriff Shepard clears his throat and shie
lds his eyes as the winds change and the firemen begin to yell amongst themselves. “Do you know how long he’s been in there?”

  “Just a minute,” I say, realizing my hands are shaking. “And I’m Hattie.”

  “Everything’s gonna be just fine, Hattie. Fires like this aren’t common, but they aren’t impossible to contain. We can handle this. You look like you could do with a bottle of water and a seat.”

  My dizziness is pretty strong, but what’s stronger is my need to see if Holt and Jimbo are okay.

  “He’s in there,” Shepard is calling over. The firemen nod and surround the house, getting ready to head inside even though it’s probably far too dangerous when a triumphant silhouette appears in the smoky doorway and out strides Holt.

  He’s carrying his healthy, conscious, confused-looking old dog in his arms. Dirt streaks his face, and his piercing blue eyes are squinted enough to form lines. He looks like… an action figure. I feel my stomach flip at seeing that he’s okay. And then it flips again because damn.

  He falls, then, to his knees. The dog is safe, grabbed by the firemen. Behind Holt, wind swirls the embers and I cover my face and eyes, and the sheriff and I cough. I want to run to Holt, but my knees are buckling and he’s losing consciousness.

  “Holt!” I try to scream, but there’s nothing I can do. The smoke is choking me. Us. In a flurry, a panic, we’re all being bundled back into cars and trucks, and sirens scream as we fly down the mountain away from the flames. My head is foggy, but one word is clear as a bell, louder than all the others.

  Holt.

  Nine

  Holt

  My eyes open and I’m hit with a wave of confusion when all I see is white. I have to adjust — this definitely isn’t my bedroom. And then more confusion hits me when I feel the space next to me and it’s empty.

  Even before I realize this is a hospital room, I feel a tug of loss. Shouldn’t I be waking up with Hattie in my arms? And then as I sit up, it comes back to me. The forest fire. The smoke in my lungs. The ground rushing up at me when I finally made it out of the cabin.