Page 10 of My Fearless Mountain Man
Whyis she still here?
Maybe I was right about her being a ghost sent to haunt me.
And maybe I don’t hate it as much as I should,I think -unhelpfully.
I walk over and pull out the first aid kit from my pack. She looks up, eyes widening slightly—not with shock, but something closer to relief.
“Oh,” she says, a little breathless. “Hi.”
Then she glances down at her knee, watching the blood trickle down her leg. “I’m fine, really. Just part of being out here. Sometimes nature pushes back.”
“Better the ground than a bear,” I grumble.
I get down on one knee and reach out to her calf before hesitating. My gaze drifts up her leg, to her bare thigh, along her hip, over her little waist, the swell of her breasts, one exposed collarbone, her elegant neck, those plush, welcoming lips, each freckle that’s begging for attention and affection, to her eyes. Gorgeous, a soft green that I’ve never seen no matter how I’ve hiked through the woods. She’s an angel not a ghost and touching her could ruin her ... or me ... or both of us.
“I’m sure it’s just a skinned knee,” Nora whispers.
“With dirt in it,” I argue. “Are you always so careless?”
She looks away. “There’s so much to see. I wasn’t paying attention to the ground. I was looking at ...” her eyes drift. “This is where the fire was.”
I don’t bother to confirm her thought. She knows it and saying that we were here before will make this mean something. Which is strictly off limits. So instead, I clean out her knee, gently patting it with gauze and softly stroking her calf when she winces.
Nora’s impossibly soft and warm, to the point I don’t want to let go. I simply want to lose myself in her. Letting her go feels ... wrong. I look through the band-aids I have before selecting the biggest one. I cut the sticky ends so they’ll work better with her knee.
She thanks me, repeats that it’s unnecessary and she’s sure others need me more, but once I finish and meet her eyes, I realize she’s blushing fiercely and watching me while breathing heavily.
“Thanks...” she trails off and glances down where her hand lingers on my wrist, my hands still holding her leg in place.
It would be so easy to pick her up. There’s a small one-room shack close-by with a bed just below a fire watch tower. I could carry her there in ten minutes and show her how much sweeter and nicer my touch could be. She’d do more than blush for me. She could arch into my touch as my hands slide up her thighs and peel her clothing off her one piece at a time. Until she’s not saying my name, she’s panting it, moaning it, using it as a plea.
As if she’s not a goddess of mercy that deserves worship.
My throat tightens. And my cock harden.God, I must stop picturing Nora’s generous body under mine…naked… Fuck, she will be the death of me!
I pull my hands away and stand, giving myself a second to breathe and calm down. Then I offer her one hand. I hope she will not see my erection… Christ, I sound like a 15 years old horny boy.
She hesitates for a beat, swallows, then nods. “Right.”
Her hand slips into mine—smaller, softer than I expect—and then she grips my wrist for leverage as she rises. The contact is brief, but it lingers longer than it should.
I keep my gaze steady, anywhere but her face. I don’t need to be here longer than necessary. Ishouldn’tbe here longer than necessary.
But the thought of someone else—another ranger stepping in, offering his hand, touching her skin—makes something twist in my chest. Makes my jaw clench. So it has to be me, and me only.
I pull her up with more force than intended. She stumbles into me, her body pressing against mine. My arm wraps around her on instinct, steadying her, holding her close.
She looks up, breath catching—eyes wide, pupils dark, a soft flush rising in her cheeks. The heat between us hums, sharp and immediate.
I ease my arm away and crouch to repack the first aid kit, needing the motion, the distraction. Something to break the hold she has on me.
But her scent stays with me—clean, warm, impossible to ignore. It clings to my skin, my thoughts, my restraint.
Even with space between us, she’s still everywhere.
“I think I’m going to head back to town before it gets dark,” she mumbles.
Then I see the slight limp in her step.