Loving the Mountain Man by Adriana Anders

Loving the Mountain Man by Adriana Anders

Author:Adriana Anders [Anders, Adriana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-14T18:30:00+00:00


20

Micah

“I could live with one of those.” I was working hard to keep it light and easy. What I really wanted was to grab her hand and pull her straight into my arms.

“All right, then,” she said, the color high and bright in her cheeks.

“All right.” I couldn’t make myself smile or react beyond that. I wanted it too much.

Quietly, we finished dinner and cleaned up, piling our dishes into a basin in the sink, to be dealt with outside in the morning. I lit a bunch of candles, which we needed in order to see, but it changed the whole thing, made it feel not quite romantic, but set up. Like we were building a set for this thing we’d decided to do.

The whole time we moved around easily, I was freaking out inside. She wanted this. Me. She wanted me.

If we did this right now, I’d come the second she touched me below the belt. And then what would she think of me? No way she could touch me if this was going to be even remotely satisfying for her.

Christ. I didn’t have any condoms, did I? And if I managed to dig some up, they’d be expired.

It was only seven o’clock. We had hours in front of us. Which both freaked me out and excited me.

“Could we just hang out?” she asked. “Sit on the sofa for a while, maybe? Have another whiskey?”

“Sure.” I grabbed the bottle, relieved to have a job and glad we weren’t rushing into this. Maybe I could sneak a trip to the bathroom to take the edge off before things got too hot. Or was that creepy? I couldn’t tell.

I poured, added logs to the fire, then sat beside her, with just enough space to give her the chance to take the first step.

“You always been like this?”

I glanced at her. “Like what?”

“A gentleman.”

I grunted out a laugh. “No. Definitely not.”

“Tell me.”

“You don’t want these stories, Christa.”

“I kinda do, Micah.” There was an evil light in her eye. Sexy as hell.

“Not too proud of some of the shit I’ve done.”

“Everybody’s got skeletons, right?”

“What do you want with mine?”

“Maybe I want you to be human, instead of this ideal male of the species.”

I snorted. “Hilarious.”

“No, really. There’s like nothing wrong with you. You’re a total catch.”

“So, you need me to tell you about my asshole days?” She wanted asshole? I’d give her asshole. “I used to go out, on leave, and screw three, four women in one night. Bar bathrooms that smelled like piss. Dark, filthy alleys, cars. Wherever. How’s that for respecting women?”

“They wanted it?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Problem is that I never made any connections. Never fell in love, never gave a shit. Guys around me tied the knot, had kids, dug roots, and I just kept being an asshole.”

“You regret it now?”

This wasn’t the conversation I thought we’d be having and, suddenly, I was annoyed at her for trying to scratch the surface or get under my skin or whatever it was she was up to.



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