Abandoned on His Mountain: A Possessive Mountain Man Insta-love Romance by Dani Wyatt

Author:Dani Wyatt [Wyatt, Dani]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-26T18:30:00+00:00

chapter eight

Marin

“Are you sure we got everything you need?” Davis loads the last three bags into the back seat of his truck, pausing for a moment, his arms braced the sides of the open door.

He looks so sexy. I clench my thighs together as I nod.

“Yes, four kinds of shampoo and matching conditioner, four toothbrushes, different brands, so I can see which one I like better, cinnamon toothpaste, face wash, perfume, moisturizer, enough make up for a runway show…what else?”

He nods, closes the door, then slips in the front seat pushing the ignition button.

“Well, I learned girls have a strong preference for their lady products but I gotta say, you’re not going to need those things for long. But, you will need clothes. Let’s make one more quick stop, there’s a shop up ahead. You pick out whatever you want.”

I shiver, remembering his warm spend deep inside me and even now, it’s seeping from my opening, reminding me that I’ve not only lost my virginity to this burly mountain man, I’ve been full throttle lost in this breeding fantasy we have going.

But, at this rate, the way he’s filling me up, it won’t be fantasy for long.

A knot curls in my belly. Is it shame? Maybe.

I’ve been programmed since birth to think that sex outside of marriage makes you the worst sort of woman. I remember my Grandfather leading me into an empty room after church one Sunday when I was twelve. I thought I was dying. My panties were full of blood and I was sure it was my sin that was killing me.

He must have found them, because he put me in that room with Old Mrs. Kowsky who was at least eighty years old but she smelled like she was a hundred and ten. She spent the next hour giving me the strangest version of what for lack of a better way to explain it was the birds and the bees talk.

My blood was my shame. A reminder that women are the temptation. What a way to scar a girl. More shame, cool.

What’s strange though, is when Davis called me those names during our sexy times?

I loved it. I wanted more. I want to be his dirty plaything. The one that tempts him and leads him into damnation.

But, from the way he’s looking at me right now, he’s going willingly. And so am I.

After a whirlwind shopping spree at VanClamps farm store, the back of the truck is stuffed with bags and boxes. Davis let me run wild and I picked out lots of button up flannel, funny t-shirts, two cowboy hats, Levi’s and two pair of cowboy boots.

And none of it was red.

When the total came to over a thousand dollars, I started to put things back, but he threw his arm around me, holding me next to him in my red dress and heels, nodding for the clerk to pack it up as he settled the bill.

He pulls into traffic on the main street in Thompson Ridge, the town next to Sherman, and I wonder if anyone will recognize me.

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