Page 14 of My Fearless Mountain Man
Everything still feels unsettled.
I wander the trail, half-lost in thought, not really watching where I’m going. I’m too focused on trying to quiet the noise in my head.
Then a sharp yell cuts through the air.
I freeze, heart lurching, and look around—confused—until I spot Calder jogging toward me, his expression tight.
Only then do I notice the rain.
It’s been falling steadily, soaking my shoulders, matting strands of hair to my face. Thunder rumbles in the distance, low and ominous, and I realize I haven’t seen another person on the trail in a while. The storm’s rolling in, and I’ve been wandering through it like I didn’t even notice.
I step under a tree for shelter, but fat drops still slip through the branches, cold and unrelenting. They hit my skin in slow, icy streaks that slide down my back.
Calder reaches me just as a shiver racks through my body. Without a word, he steps close and wraps one arm around me, bending slightly to shield me with the breadth of his shoulder.
I blink up at him, startled by the heat of his body and the quiet urgency in his touch.
“Um… hi,” I manage, breathless.
“Why would you go hiking when a severe thunderstorm is coming in? Landslides could sweep you over the cliff or bury you alive,” he snarls in my ear.
I blink a few times and turn to look at him. He’s closer than I anticipate. Much closer. His jaw brushes my temple. He looks frustrated and something else that I can’t place. I lick my bottom lip. “I ... I didn’t check the weather. Sorry... I didn’t think…”
“Nora, even city girls know to check the fucking weather,” he bites out.
“I’ll turn around,” I answer, trying not to let my teeth chatter. I can take care of myself. I can.
He studies my expression, shakes his head, then his eyes drop to my lips. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Doing what?” I ask.
“It doesn’t matter,” he hisses, then slides his hand under my pony and into my hair. “It’s working.”
“What do you... mean?” I’m so confused.
He pulls me closer, surrounding me in a wave of heat that cuts straight through the chill. His breath brushes over my lips, warm and steady, and suddenly the rain, the cold, the reason I came out here—it all fades.
All I can think about is how close he is. How badly I want to taste him.
I was supposed to say something—something important—but it slips away the moment he holds me like this.
With him wrapped around me, it’s impossible to think about anything else.
Calder curses softly, then kisses me hungrily. His fingers dig into my scalp as his body presses to mine. His tongue pushesbetween my lips and I expect him to hold me hostage, to bite me, to be rougher, but the second I lick across his tongue shyly, his lips soften.
Instead of pulling away, I tug him closer.
I meet his kiss head-on, parting my lips to welcome the slow, confident slide of his tongue over mine. His mouth is firm but unhurried, rough with intent and still somehow tender. When his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me flush against his body, I lean into it—into him—like I’ve been waiting for this exact moment.
My hands spread across his chest, then glide to his sides, exploring the strength beneath the fabric. I sink into every slow thrust of his tongue, the teasing drag of his teeth over my lower lip, the breathy moan he exhales straight into my mouth.
I moan back, caught in the heat, and his hand slides down to grip my ass—fingers strong, possessive, making me gasp as he presses me harder against him.
That’s when I feel it.
The thick, unmistakable hardness straining against his pants, pressing firmly into my belly. The heat of it, the size of it—it sends a pulse of raw need straight through me.
My hips roll against him, chasing friction, and his grip tightens. My hand finds the hem of his shirt. I slip beneath it, fingers skimming over warm skin and the raised line of a scar near his hip.
