Mountain Man Daddy
Page 5
The room was simple. There was a bed, a night table, a chair, a small dresser, and a wardrobe in the corner. Even the rustic log walls and the furniture looked handcrafted. The room smelled of the forest, wood smoke, and man—big, solid mountain man—and it sent another strum of something sexual through her.
She rose, tentatively, still feeling weak, and ignoring the desire pulsing within her. There was a chill in the room, and her bare legs felt exposed, but her skin also felt electric.
She noticed a few books on the little table by the lamp. She listened for her host, but with the storm raging outside she could hear little else. Where was he? Could she snoop without getting caught?
Avery glanced at the window crusted with snow and considered her getaway. Yukon was overbearing and too much of a good Samaritan to let her go in her current condition, especially with the brutal weather. She shouldn’t be running off in a storm, especially after her last disastrous attempt, but staying still was not only deadly for her, but for him as well. Would he shove her out the door if he knew the danger she brought, and what if he knew what she’d done to survive?
Avery hobbled to the window. She banged it and snow fell, clearing enough that she could see some of the outside. The window was large enough to give a view of the mountains around them and the valley below, but with the flurry of snow falling, she saw very little. Yukon was out there though, bundled up and pulling wood in a cart toward the cabin. She watched the snow until he came back with an empty cart and piled more wood from the shed in it. He worked rather lazily for a man in the middle of a storm, stopping to enjoy the snow and toss it at his bear. Yes, it was actually a freaking bear.
How weird was that? Why on earth did he have a wild animal around? He rolled an old tire through the snow, and the bear swished a big paw lazily at it, knocking it to the side. The animal wandered over to where it fell, nudged it with its tan-colored nose and then flopped down to chew. By the way Yukon arched back and the big puff of breath that came out, she knew he was laughing. She cracked the window in hopes of hearing something. The frigid air bit her naked thighs and blew snow through the screen, but Avery only tugged the shirt lower, eager to glimpse the mountain man in his natural habitat.
“You’re a bundle of energy, Rock.” The bear groaned as if answering Yukon’s insult with a lazy retort. “Still nasty out here. You might want to consider going back to sleep.” The bear paused, chuffed and sniffed the air before going back to his tire. Yukon shook his head and smoothed his ice-crusted beard with his gloved hand.
Avery had always preferred men who were clean-shaven and well-dressed, but this one… She frowned, telling herself not to go there, and instead she walked away from the window and the rugged stranger who did things to her insides.
Her body apparently didn’t care that he wasn’t her usual type. He may not have been someone she’d normally be attracted to, but he was gorgeous, and he’d rescued her. He made her feel safer than she’d felt in a long time—maybe ever.
She bit her lip. Yukon was distracted. If she was going to plan her breakout, now was the time. Since her purse was gone, along with the thousand dollars she’d accumulated, she needed money. She needed a new ID, among other things, and it wouldn’t be cheap.
She guessed that her purse must have been thrown from the Jeep during the crash. Perhaps if she followed the path from the wreck to the road she’d locate it. A gust of wind whistled through the window and she frowned. She couldn’t search during the storm and she’d never find it buried in the snow.
She sat on the bed, feeling deflated. Her stomach ached with the thought of stealing from Yukon, but dammit, she had to be tough. She had to survive.
Avery opened the side table drawers quietly, looking through gently so he’d never know she’d been there, but when she got to his underwear drawer, she paused. Picking up a pair of boxers, she smiled. There were striped and dull paisley ones but the ones she held up weren’t bland like that. They were orange with polar bears holding beer steins. She dropped them and picked up a blue pair dotted with cartoon penguins in top hats carrying canes. The grumpy mountain man didn’t seem the type to wear his sense of humor on his undies.
“What are you doing?” His gruff voice made her drop the shorts to her feet and stand swiftly. Her face felt hot with embarrassment. He’d caught her going through his underwear drawer. Oh, God, his underwear drawer!
“Uh.” She looked to the drawer, her gaze landing on a pair of thick wool socks and she lunged for them.
“I—my feet were cold.” Her pulse quickened as his eyes narrowed, the heat of his gaze making more than her heart pound. Avery swallowed several times to rid herself of the dry patch in her throat. Yes, she liked this guy’s look, even when it was irritated, maybe especially so. There was a mix of excitement, heat, and fear that fizzed in her. He was a contradiction with his rugged, gruff exterior and his gentle nurturing, and it fascinated her.
“I was distracted by the funny boxers,” she said, looking down sheepishly at the socks, hoping he bought her lie. It wasn’t all a lie; she had gotten distracted by his shorts.
His hands went to his hips. The jeans he wore were old but hugged him well—too well to need the thick leather belt he wore. Tucked into them was a green thermal long-sleeved shirt that molded over each well-defined pec, ab, and bicep. He was a man in every single way.
“And what would you think if you caught me looking through your undergarments?” He walked toward her, and she stepped back automatically, her knees hitting the bed and knocking her to a sitting position. She chewed the inside of her cheek as he kept coming.
“I’d probably think you were a pervert.” She was intimidated by his size, so she looked to her feet.
“I think that sounds about right.” He bent forward and lifted Avery’s chin with one long, callused finger. “Are you a pervert?” Was that humor in his eyes? She swallowed audibly. She shook her head, and her stomach churned nervously.
“What’s your name, little girl?” His deep voice hummed through her, and her heart flipped. She only shook her head again. He sighed and sat down beside her on the bed.
“Lie down.” It was once again a stern demand rather than a request. His gaze searched hers, but this time it wasn’t as uncomfortable. His stern but concerned blue eyes penetrated hers, and a starburst of thrills shot through her. His plump lips framed by the reddish-blond beard were calling to her, and she wanted to place her hands on his weather-pinked cheeks and draw him closer.
He sighed again and pulled his toque off. His hair hung in dark blond waves to his shoulders. Longish hair had never, ever been sexy to her, but God, this man wore it well. He tucked it behind his ears. She wanted to reach out and touch it. It looked thick and smooth.
“Do you ever do as you’re told?” he asked, sounding more than a little exasperated. She shrugged and gave him a small, flat smile. Obedience and Avery had been synonymous at one time.
“I don’t have patience for people at the best of times, but little girls that drive off the road because they’re speeding and ignoring warning signs, and force me to rescue them not once, but twice—well, I have no patience for them at all. Now, lie down or I’ll introduce my hard hand to your bare bottom.” His forehead creases deepened.
“Okay, Yukon.”
“My name is Mike, Annie calls me Yukon. But while you’re here, you’ll call me Daddy.”
She didn’t respond but leaned slowly back onto his bed. He pressed his lips together, assessing her, and gave a stern nod. Then his brows tightened as he noticed the window.
“Why the hell is the window open?” His eyes pinned her in place, and hers widened.
“Um.”
“Um is not an acceptable answer.”
“I opened it to hear you playing with the bear—Daddy,” she added, hoping to be a little playful, but it seemed to affect her in a way she didn’t expect. Her heart quickened, and her pulse throbbed deeply between her thighs.
“The bear has a
name and so do you.” He stood and walked to slam the window shut. “It’s also a lot of work to heat this cabin.” He pointed out the window. “And unless you want to be out there in the cold chopping down trees, you’d better not leave my windows open. Got it?” His deep grouchy voice made her shiver.
“Yes, sir.” It popped out automatically, and his eyes flickered heat, but this time not in anger.
“Good girl.” His expression softened, and her stomach fluttered in pleasure at his praise. He reached for her and she held her breath. He snatched the sock ball out of her hands.
“I like Daddy better,” he said placidly, not looking up from his task. She watched his big hands unroll the gray socks and almost drooled when he touched her. It was only her foot but he wrapped his whole hand around it, and an electric zap shot right up her leg into her core.
Something about his touch made her crazy hot. She ogled him, and his eyes plowed into hers. His mouth curve down in one corner.
“Your feet don’t feel cold to me. Are you lying to me, little girl?” His grip tightened on her foot and she licked her lips.
“T-they are,” she stammered and then cleared her throat. “They’re very cold to me, and since they’re my feet, I’m better equipped to determine that.” His look hardened again, and she swallowed in uncertainty. “This cabin is drafty,” she added in a softer, more respectful tone.
He chuckled then and shook his head. “You sure are pushing your luck, little one. Your mouthy attitude is making my palm itch.”
“Uh, you do like to threaten me, don’t you?”
“This cabin’s sole source of heat is wood, and I made damn sure it was well insulated when I built it. Insulation can’t keep heat in with windows open though, can it?” His mouth hitched up in one corner. “And, little girl, I’m practically a lie detector. You were snooping.”
“I’m not a little girl,” she said, attempting to change the subject. He just slid the socks on her feet and stood to grab the blanket off the bottom of the bed. It was checkered black and red like his coat, and when he pulled it up and tucked it around her, she smelled his heady scent.
“We’ve had this conversation, haven’t we?” he said, putting his big hands on his hips. Avery shrugged, and his jaw twitched. “Until you tell me your name, I’m calling you whatever I want.”
“Amanda,” she blurted.
“Nope.” He once again stared intensely. “Tell me or don’t tell me, but don’t lie to me. I hate lies,” he said harshly. “Stay in the damn bed. You need anything, ask.” He jabbed his finger down toward the mattress as he spoke. She stared petulantly, and his hard features smoothed.
“I’ll bring you some oatmeal and some tea to warm you up. It’s homemade, but it tastes pretty good.” He turned to walk away, and she watched his wide, thick shoulders. “And missy, I don’t know how old you are, but your decisions as of late tell me you need a lot of minding. Can you guess how I mind pouty little girls?”
She grinned. “By threatening them?”
He snorted. “Guess again.”
“S-spankings?” Her voice was high-pitched as she spoke and he looked over his shoulder sternly at her.
“Exactly.”
He stooped and scooped the boxers off the floor, turning to drop them in the drawer.
“I don’t wear these boxers. I wear long johns in the winter and nothin’ in the summer. The winter’s too damn cold here to bother and in the summer—” He smiled. “Well, there are advantages to living in the wilderness.” And then his smile fell away. “Don’t go messin’ around in my drawers.”
“Why do you have them then?” She couldn’t believe she dared speak after he’d threatened to spank her and told her he was a human lie detector. Mostly everything that came out of her mouth these days was a lie. And damn her body’s reaction to the daddy wilderness man. But she sensed he was about to leave, and it was all she could think of to stall him. Please stay with me, Mountain Man Daddy.
He didn’t answer, just continued out of the room. Avery rolled to her hip, glancing into the open drawer, feeling bereft at the loss of his presence. Each of the four pairs of fun underwear had a matching tie tucked beside it.
Bored, she sat up to close the drawer. She’d already spent two weeks in bed and more than anything, she wanted to follow Mike. Was that because she wanted to know more about him or to taunt him into spanking her? The memory of his earlier swats left an intoxicating mix of fear, anticipation, and excitement. Besides, his grumpy but caring concern made her heart swell.
“You hear what I said about staying in bed?” he hollered from the next room. Avery looked around. How did he know she was up? The bed didn’t even squeak. Her eyes narrowed at the door. He couldn’t know.
“Yes, Mountain Man Daddy.”
When he returned, she was sitting up against the headboard. His chin dipped in a nod of approval before he handed her a steaming mug and pulled the chair closer to the bed. Grabbing the clothes, Yukon dropped them into a laundry basket beside the chair as he sat. He propped his left leg on the bed rail and leaned back.
“Drink it slowly and be careful. It’s hot.” Again, his words were caring but his tone gruff and clipped.
“How long am I going to be confined to this bed? And why are you always so grumpy?” She sipped a tiny amount of the tea, slurping loudly to show him she could be compliant. It was sharp and spicy but felt good on her parched throat. He smiled. “Finally listening? I like that, although you’re quite saucy.” He chuckled when she gave him a sour expression. “And as far as the staying in bed goes… as long as necessary.” His brow shot up in warning. “And I won’t hesitate to tie you to it if spankings don’t work.” Her eyes enlarged along with his smile. “Mm, you’re a seriously kinky daddy.” She smirked behind her cup but then got serious. “But I need to find my purse and get moving, Mike.”
He shook his head obstinately.
“I have people waiting for me.” That wasn’t quite a lie either, she decided. After all, the bad guys were waiting for her. Well, maybe not waiting for her, but waiting for a sign of her.
“That so? And these people would rather you hurry up than take care of yourself?”
“Yes,” she said, sighing forcefully. Mike turned his head to the side, showing her he didn’t believe it. “Well, I dunno.” She shrugged, spilling tea down her front.
“Be careful,” he barked and took the cup to swipe away the scalding liquid from her chest with his sleeve.
“Oops.”
He gave a half grunt, half huff and looked strictly at her, but then his eyes followed his thumb as it gently wiped the tea that trickled down her chin and neck. Her pulse quickened beneath his finger and when his eyes shot to hers, she knew he’d noticed.
“You need a daddy, don’t you?” he asked, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. Her nose tingled with emotion. No one had ever taken care of her like this. Avery was sure her parents had, but she only had a vague recollection of them. His hand moved up to cup her cheek, and his eyes shifted back and forth between hers.
She was about to answer, although she wasn’t a hundred percent sure what was going to say, when he leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. Her heart halted and then galloped wildly.
“Now back to these friends.” She attempted to hide her shock while he straightened her blanket. Why had he kissed her? What reason did a man have for giving a chaste kiss if not to show care? His hand paused at the top by her chin, and he gently fingered a coil of her hair. “Anyone that would have you jeopardize your health—” His eyes shot to hers and his jaw ticked. “Isn’t a friend.”
“Do you have a phone?” Avery asked to break the electric connection between them and because he’d expect her to. He needed to believe she wasn’t going to sneak off. Mike’s eyes read hers a moment before he rose, disappeared out of the room, and returned with a tea towel to put across her chest. She held her breath the entire time.
“What kind of people are waiting for yo
u, and where?” He sat and handed her back the tea. “Slow,” he warned.
“Friends. They’ll be worried about me.”
“Closest phone is at Annie’s or in the town of Bathurst.”
She set the tea on the night table and crossed her arms. “You live like it’s the sixteenth century.” She huffed. “Why on earth would anyone choose to isolate themselves so much?” She liked quiet and seclusion to a point, but all alone, all the time? She knew how haunting that could be.
“I told you I don’t have patience with people. I don’t have friends, and I don’t want any. I like the quiet, and when I feel like talking, the bear works just fine.” Mike’s eyes lanced hers. “He doesn’t talk back, snark, or argue with me. And by the way, they didn’t have electricity and composting toilets in the sixteenth century.” He stood. “This is a luxury in comparison.”
“It sounds lonely,” she replied sadly.
Avery looked at her mountain man savior. He was big, at least a few inches above six feet, and his wild eyes held something that pulled at her. Wisdom? Experience? It assured her that he could not only take care of himself but her as well. She shivered, and he bent and tucked the blanket around her once more. She liked him taking care of her, too damn much.
“I’ll put more wood in the stove.” She grabbed his hand before he could walk away. It was strong and rough and swallowed hers, but it was also warm. Her heart beat faster. The memory of it swatting her bottom made her swallow.
“Don’t you get bored?” she asked, looking around. “Up here, all alone with nothing but wood to chop?”
“Nope.” He cut her off with another stern look but didn’t take his hand away until she released it. “Drink that tea and go back to sleep. I’ve got things to do.” His brow cocked. “More wood chopping.”
“I’m not tired,” she snapped, more harshly than she intended. “I’m bored. And don’t you ever get frustrated?” Her mouth quirked at the corner. He fascinated her, and she loved pushing his buttons. “Sexually frustrated?”