Page 9 of Mountain Man's Mail Order Mix-Up
His breath was hot against my skin as he trailed his lips down my stomach and lower, until his fingers hooked into the delicate lace of my panties. I gasped as he tugged them down, the cool air kissing my exposed flesh. But his hands, his mouth—they were anything but cool.
“You’re still wearing too much,” he murmured against my inner thigh.
His teeth grazed my sensitive skin. I shivered, my fingers tangling in his hair as he dragged the skirt up to my hips, exposing me completely to his hungry gaze.
“But this—” His tongue flicked over me, just once, teasing. “—this is exactly where I want you.”
My breath hitched, my back arching as he tasted me in slow, deliberate strokes. Every flick of his tongue was a promise, everysuck a whispered “mine.” I whimpered, my thighs trembling around his shoulders as he licked deeper, driving me toward the edge with nothing but his mouth and the wicked skill of his tongue.
Warmth spread through me, and then I felt like I was climbing toward something. I didn’t know what, but all my senses were on full alert. The air I breathed seemed crisper, fresher.
I gripped the edge of the bench and rode a wave that took me up, up, up—until I let out a little cry as waves of pure bliss rolled through me.
It took me a good minute or so to catch my breath, and then I let out a little cry. Even though I’d stilled, West waited until it was clear my orgasm was complete before lifting his head.
“I have a condom back at my place,” he said. “We could run back there and get it and finish this. Spend the next couple of hours together.”
I shook my head. “I’m on birth control. It’s all good.”
It probably seemed weird to him, but my best friend and I had gotten on birth control as soon as we graduated high school. She was scared about her first gynecologist appointment and asked me to go with her. Each of us had stayed in the waiting room while the other was getting examined. It helped somehow, just knowing the other was there.
“Perfect,” he said. “I didn’t really want to leave. But I do need to lock the door.”
I sat up, propping myself on my elbows, and looked down at him, alarmed, as he traveled the rest of the wraparound seat, then stood. The door had been unlocked this whole time? Someone could’ve walked in.
But wait…why did I care? I was new here. Nobody knew me. Still, this wasn’t the way I wanted to introduce myself to Wildwood Valley. Not if I was going to be a permanent resident.
“Come with me,” West said as he walked from the door to the counter where we’d met.
How long ago had that been? Not even an hour, I was guessing. But I’d never felt this connected to anyone in my life.
He led me to the flip door he’d blasted through when I first walked in. The kitchen was to the right, but he walked past that too. Whatever we were going to do, we probably needed to find a surface that wasn’t used for food.
Sure enough, he led me to a small room next to what looked like a walk-in cooler. I followed him through the door and found a mid-sized room with a desk toward the back and a chair on either side.
“Close the door,” he said.
He took a seat behind the desk. I couldn’t help but notice his businesslike tone and posture, and I wondered if he’d changed his mind about sleeping with me. Or was this foreplay?
As a fresh round of moisture rushed between my legs, I did exactly as he’d commanded, taking a seat and settling my skirt into place. Oh crap. I’d forgotten my panties. They were still out there, around where we’d been sitting. I couldn’t forget to grab those afterward. The last thing I needed was someone stumbling upon them while sitting down to dinner.
“So you’re interested in working here,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me a little about your qualifications?”
Okay, now I really didn’t know if he was serious or not. But either way, I probably should answer the question honestly.
“I’ve waited tables off and on for years,” I said. “I started when I was sixteen at a meat-and-three. I had to wait until I was eighteen to work somewhere that served alcohol. I’m a good hostess too. Exactly how much does the position pay?”
“The pay is negotiable. But there are things you could do to earn a little more.”
“Like what?”
He sat back in his chair and ran his gaze over me. My body heated up, each section of me warming as his gaze landed on it.
“Things get stressful around here,” he said. “Sometimes I might need a little…relief.”
He paused before that last word. If this were a real job interview, I would’ve been out of there by now. But we were here to do this. And I was more than a little turned on by the game we were playing.
“So I could earn a dollar an hour more if I come around that desk and relieve you?” I asked.
