Mountain Daddy

by Layla Valentine

“They certainly do.”

  Once on the boat, we didn’t waste a single moment. He wrapped his firm arms around me and held me against him, and when we kissed, it felt like the entire world stopped around us. His tongue glided across mine, making me shiver.

  In a flurry, we ripped each other’s clothes off and held each other tight, our hands running up and down our naked torsos. I felt his fingers wrap around my nipples, squeezing them lightly as he bit at my lower lip. I cried out, needing and wanting so much more.

  This time, we fucked against the boat driver’s seat, with me on top—riding him quickly, my breasts bouncing and my hair flipping wildly behind me.

  When it was over, and we were gasping, gazing into one another’s eyes, clouds formed overhead, becoming dark and ominous. The first raindrop dripped on my nose, then another fell on my breast. We were soaked within seconds, and tittering with laughter.

  “Shit,” Ethan cackled, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

  “Do you think we should go back?” I asked, too comfortable to feel any kind of alarm. “The clouds to the west look even darker. What if there’s lightning?”

  Ethan didn’t move. Instead, he hugged me tighter to him. The boat began to rock even more beneath us, as the wind whipped over the lake and waves started to form.

  Our eyes connected. In Ethan’s, I felt I could see every thought in his brooding mind. I wanted to ask him to articulate them. I wanted to hear his stories of his old life. Of the men he’d hunted. Of the people he’d put behind bars.

  Just then, a flash of lightning erupted over the lake, and Ethan bolted up, laughing. His cock had taken more girth in the minutes since his orgasm, showing he was ready again. My legs were spread wide, open. Wanting him. Yearning for him. But as the thunder boomed overhead, he yanked the boat’s steering wheel toward the shore.

  We motored back, feeling that the storm was chasing us away. I giggled madly, wrapping my arms around his thick chest and tracing the lines of his bear tattoo with my fingertips, wondering if this was my actual life or just a fictional version of it.

  Once we reached land, I watched as Ethan quickly tied the boat to the dock. It creaked against it, the wind making soft, white crests in the waves. I grabbed my clothes and his, and we raced toward his truck, still naked and without shoes.

  With a great gasp, the skies opened up and began to pour with a torrential rain. We slotted ourselves into the truck, Ethan slamming the door behind us. The truck shook. The rain continued to blast down. Emotion filled us both.

  We couldn’t avoid it another moment more. As the lightning streaked across the sky, we threw ourselves at one another, making love and steaming up the windows of the truck. Sweat mixed with the rain on our backs and stomachs as his hands clenched my hips.

  As we came together, a smack of thunder seemed to shake the ground around us. Both of us gasping, we leaned into each other, placing our naked feet up on the dashboard. Our toes touched, feeling almost as intimate as any fucking. I felt his lips upon my forehead, kissing me.

  “Damn, I can’t believe it. It’s almost time for me to pick Gracie up from school,” he said. It could have been three minutes or three hours later—time was strange when we were together.

  My voice nearly caught in my throat. “Why don’t you two come over for dinner again?”

  “We shouldn’t put you out like that…” he said, his voice lowering. I couldn’t sense if that was because he wanted to say “no,” but was trying to be polite.

  I pushed it, not wanting to lose sight of him another moment. “Please. I promise, I’ll cook something better than the other night. Something planned.”

  He shifted, still cradling me close to him. I could tell he was mulling it over. I brought my hand along the muscle of his chest, placing my thumb at his nipple. I wanted to coax him, but I knew he was far too cocky, too arrogant, too masculine to ever go along with anything that he didn’t want to do.

  “I don’t think I want to let you go yet,” he said finally, giving me another kiss on the forehead. My heart burned with desire, with excitement.

  When the rain cleared up a bit, he drove us back to my cabin, where I dressed in dry clothes and he donned his pair of jeans, which had been more or less spared in the storm. We didn’t speak, perhaps feeling the weight of the moment. When we darted back toward his truck, our hair drying in the clean air, I slipped my hand into his and held onto it tight.

  We drove down the winding mountain path, which was beginning to feel familiar, almost like home. Once at the grocery store, I forced myself to move quickly, opting for some lasagna noodles, ricotta cheese, spinach, salad, and a nice bottle of wine. Ethan walked alongside me, making the occasional joke, and giving me a pure, loving gaze. I shivered each time we made eye contact, and flashed a smile. We couldn’t help it—we began to make out.

  I closed my eyes, feeling him suck at my lower lip. My stomach clenched with emotion. Moments later, when one of the cashiers walked passed, clucking her tongue, our kiss broke and we shared a meaningful gaze and giggle, feeling like teenagers.

  We drove up to the school gates, and Gracie’s head popped out of the crowd of kids as they raced out . She was blonder than any of them, and the emerging sunshine after the storm beamed off of her.

  The moment she saw me in the truck with her father, she leaped into the air, smacking her hands together. “Yes! Serena! You’re coming home for dinner?”

  A flicker of darkness crossed Ethan’s eyes. “No, baby. We’re going over to Serena’s,” he said.

  This felt strange to me. But instead of thinking about it, I just leaned down and wrapped my arms around Gracie, grateful for this strange life that had opened up for me, up in the mountains. I couldn’t overthink it or read into it. These might be the only days I had.

  “I’m going to make lasagna!” I told her. “Do you like lasagna?”

  “Daddy doesn’t make that,” Gracie said, giving her dad a small smirk, “but I think I had it at school once!”

  “You’re going to love it, squirt,” Ethan said, bringing his hand across his daughter’s head. He ruffled her hair, making her giggle. “Let’s get going. I’m starving. Serena and I forgot to eat lunch.”

  “Oh yeah! How was fishing?” Gracie asked, leaping into the truck, graceful as any ballerina. “Did you catch anything?”

  Ethan and I exchanged a meaningful look. I wondered, with my heart hammering in my chest, if Ethan would ever find the words to tell Gracie what he and I were to one another, if anything.

  “We didn’t catch anything, actually,” Ethan said. He slid into the front seat alongside Gracie, lifting his hand to the keys. “What do you think about that?”

  “I think that’s pretty pathetic,” Gracie said, clucking her tongue with as much judgment as a much older woman. “I need to come with you guys, to show you how it’s done.”

  Ethan drove us back to my cabin and helped me carry in the groceries when we arrived. Gracie slid her hand into mine as we walked inside, gabbing about her day at school and telling me her favorite subjects (besides art, of course). She was such a bright bolt of energy, I fell into her charms easily.

  This day was very much like the days following. Ethan would drive Gracie down to school, before chugging the truck back up toward my cabin. We’d begin our making out at my cabin, unable to resist one another. Sometimes, we’d head down to the boat, even fishing for a few minutes, before our passion got the better of us.

  “I’ve never let my body get away from me like this,” he told me, shaking his head and rubbing his nose against mine. “Can you imagine a bounty hunter not being able to control himself? For so many years, I woke up in the morning, ate steel-cut oats, and did 100 pushups.

  “After that, I was after one gang member or criminal or the next, without room for—erm—worldly pleasures, if you know what I mean. But now, I get one sniff of how you smell, and I’m enamored.”

  Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of that week were all the same, with Etha
n and I picking Gracie up before returning to my cabin for dinner, which we began to cook together, as a kind of unit. We fell into easy patterns, with Gracie telling us silly stories from school, with Ethan touching me—my shoulder, my waist, my thigh—whenever he could, just to show that he still cared about me, even if he couldn’t be vocal about it with his daughter in our presence.

  Each night, when they left, my heart grew dull. Saturday was approaching far too quickly. I’d begun to have dreams about work, reminding me that my old life was calling me back. I’d grown accustomed to the clean, crisp air, which smelled of pine trees. I’d grown to love the mountains, cresting in the distance. Part of me wanted to abandon everything I’d ever known. But most of me knew that was just a hopeless dream.

  On Thursday evening, as Gracie jumped into the truck to leave, Ethan leaned toward me, knowing this was our quick second of privacy. He kissed me, causing my eyes to close, my body to fold into his. I reached for his elbow, wanting to cling to him. But he took a step back, breaking the kiss all too soon.

  I wanted to cry out to him. To tell him everything that I knew, in my soul. But I held back, waiting.

  “Same time tomorrow?” I finally whispered, feeling the tension between us.

  “Same time,” he said, his voice deep and dominant.

  The moment the truck crept back up the mountain and out of sight, I fell onto the back porch, placing my face in my hands. Friday was to be my final day with Ethan. I resolved to enjoy it, to mark it in my mind as special.

  But at the same time I knew—since Ethan’s situation was specific, since he had to remain in the wild—he could never chase after me. I would have to leave him behind.

  Chapter 7

  Ethan

  It had been a long time since I’d cared about what day of the week it was. If it wasn’t a school day, Gracie stayed home or went to a friend’s; if it was a weekday, Gracie went to school, then came home. For a long time, I’d resolved not to care about a single thing beyond that—making time pass along like water.

  I knew that wasn’t the way to live. It was a way to lose years of Gracie’s life. One day, I would wake up and she would be 17, 18 years old. Another day, I’d realize I was an old man, and she’d be out in the world.

  But when you chose to sleepwalk through life, these things didn’t pester you so much.

  With Serena in the mountains, time was different. Every day with her was a small infinity, and yet, every day also seemed to skate by—leaving me alone and icy cold in my bed without her. I hated wondering what she was doing without me. I hated wondering what she thought about me—whether or not she wished things were different, that we could be together.

  These were conversations we couldn’t have with one another. There was so much we couldn’t say.

  Gracie bounded toward the truck. I followed, watching her bright backpack bobbing up and down.

  Gracie had asked me several times if I thought Serena might stay in the mountains forever. Each time, I’d told her that she couldn’t, that she had this whole other life—probably men who wanted her, who would have her if she chose to be with them. She had an important career and was incredibly intelligent, even if normally, our use for each other didn’t get beyond what we did to one another’s bodies. I felt completely like myself with her, as if she could peer into the deepest, darkest depths of my soul. I’d never met a woman like her.

  “It’s Friday, Daddy,” Gracie said, leaning her head back against the truck’s seat rest, “which means show and tell.”

  “What are you showing or telling?” I asked her, taking our route back down the mountain, toward her school. I blinked away sleep.

  “I’m going to tell about Serena,” she said, her eyes bright. “We haven’t made a friend like her ever. And she lives in the city and has this amazing life! Last night, she was telling me about that prison on a rock. Alca…” She paused, pressing her lips together. When she did this, she resembled her mother, forcing memories to flash across my eyes. “What was it?”

  “Alcatraz,” I told her.

  “That’s right. Anyway, that’s what I’ll do. I already showed all my toys all the other weeks, anyway.”

  What did it mean that Gracie had chosen Serena to be her “tell” of the week? I didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, caught up in my own thoughts, only half-listening to my daughter chatting away beside me. When she burst from the truck, saying, “See you after school, Daddy!” I muttered goodbye and watched her go, her blond hair flying out behind her.

  Today had to be different. I felt it. I couldn’t bring Serena to the same fisherman’s boat, do the same things, even fuck her in the same positions. I needed her to feel that this was as special, even if it wasn’t forever.

  Roaring back up the mountain, I rumbled down the driveway, watching the immediate flicker of the door. Serena had been watching for me. As I moved from the truck, she stepped out onto the back porch, wearing a short white dress which fluttered around her thighs. She gave me an anxious smile, sweeping her fingers through her hair.

  When I reached her, I wrapped my hands around her thin waist and lifted her into me. I inhaled her, body and soul, in a kiss. Her breasts were perky and braless against my chest. I twirled her, and as I did, a giggle began to grow in her throat.

  “You’re making me dizzy,” she said, the moment our kiss broke.

  “Good,” I told her, kissing the tip of her nose. I felt a swell of emotion, of lust. I wanted to thrust her against the side of the cabin, lift her skirts, and pulse into her, over and over again.

  “Are we going out on the boat?” she asked.

  “I was thinking we’d do something different today,” I said. “I wondered if you might join me for a hike.”

  “A hike?” she said, sliding her hands down my chest. “Sure. Let me change my shoes.”

  I waited as she rushed into the cabin, donning a pair of hiking boots, a flannel shirt, and a pair of jean shorts. She looked hip yet rustic—the kind of woman who belonged in the mountains.

  “You look like you’re staying for the winter,” I joked.

  “Oh, if only,” she said, her eyes growing sad.

  But we couldn’t focus on the things we couldn’t have.

  Instead, we walked hand in hand toward the private trail that snaked past the lake. The sunlight caught on the water, gleaming through the trees. As we walked, we spotted several animals: squirrels, turtles, even a deer. I watched Serena’s face light up with excitement each time, reminding me of Gracie.

  “You seem so open to the world,” I told her, squeezing her hand. “Are you always like this?”

  “Truthfully, I think I’m far more cynical when I’m in the city,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “Something about the fresh air makes me remember who I used to be. When you’re an attorney, you have to be so hard.”

  “Same when you’re a bounty hunter,” I told her, feeling a darkness pass over my eyes.

  “I can’t even imagine,” she whispered. I could feel the weight of all the questions she had for me, somewhere behind her eyes. But she held them in, not wanting to be invasive.

  I loved that about her.

  I led us up a steep incline, where the trail changed from soil to rock. Holding onto her hand, I guided Serena’s footsteps, ensuring she didn’t misstep and fall. Her eyes were fearful, yet I could sense she trusted me. We didn’t speak until we reached a flat edge, which offered another soil path, deeper into the pine trees.

  “Damn. I would have never found this,” she said, giggling, her eyes wide. “Where on earth are you taking me?”

  “Not much farther.”

  “Oh! I think I can hear it,” she whispered.

  As if on cue, the trees broke, revealing a skinny waterfall, which eased into a glimmering pool. It was cove-like, with the green trees around the water giving it a turquoise color.

  I watched as Serena’s face changed, transitioning through the many phases of shock and awe. Reaching for my hand, she s
queezed it tightly. A small tear descended down her cheek. It was a tender moment, one of incredible passion and light.

  “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she murmured to me.

  “Neither have I,” I said.

  We were on one another, then. She tore at my clothes, revealing my hearty muscles below. Her eyes rode over me, along with her fingers, then her tongue.

  Reaching for my belt, she pushed my pants to the ground, revealing my boxers. My cock had filled them out, thrusting forward. With a gasp, she wrapped her fingers around the base of my cock: deep red, throbbing. With a cry, she dropped to her knees, lifting her lips to the tip.

  She sent her tongue around and around the tip, licking at the bit of cum that dribbled down it. And then, she thrust forward, her lips up to the hilt. I couldn’t believe the incredible feeling. I was so deep down her throat. It was dark and wet and alive.

  Reaching down, I placed my hand on top of her head, guiding her as she turned her tongue around and around my cock, feeling at the veins.

  “Get undressed,” I told her.

  She did. Pulling away from my cock, she removed her flannel, her shorts, her shoes, and I did the same. We stood like Adam and Eve, in the center of the woods. We were so far from civilization—miles and miles away from any human.

  With a flash of her smile, Serena gripped my hand and we leaped into the turquoise pool. The water was cool against our sweating bodies.

  When we swept back up to the surface, we were on one another again, with Serena bringing her legs wide. Without even trying, my cock found her perfect pussy, and I felt myself enter her. We were one unit once more.

  We spent the afternoon like that: fucking, giggling, staring up at the bright blue sky and listening to the waterfall cascade, just feet away. It was a small morsel of heaven, this area of the world. With Serena in my arms, everything felt possible. It even felt possible to imagine that she might stay.

  When the sun began to dive back down beneath the trees, we put on our clothes, without words, and began to trek back down the mountain.