BY THE MOUNTAIN MAN: The Complete Collection

by Love, Frankie

  “Not now,” I tell her. “Right now I’m taking you out on the lake. We can have lunch out there.”

  “I’m not getting in that water again.”

  “I know.” I smile, grabbing beers from the fridge and tossing them in a cooler. I fill a bag with jerky and trail mix, some apples, a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa. “You ready to relax, wife?”

  She gets off the bed, pursing her lips. “Okay, husband.”

  “That word looks sexy as hell coming off your lips,” I tell her, reaching for her arm and pulling her close to me. “Say it again.”

  She does, and then I kiss her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Everly

  The lake is as beautiful as Silas promised. I’m learning something about that man: he isn’t one to exaggerate. He says it like it is.

  And he says he likes me … an awful lot.

  Which makes my conflicted feelings impossible to sort.

  Because really? If I stayed here it really would be just him and me, every day … forever.

  That’s a lot of pressure.

  Walking to his fishing boat, I’m so distracted by his butt as he walks a few paces in front of me, I nearly fall into the water.

  Silas drives the boat to the center of the lake, then drops anchor and cracks open a beer, handing it to me. His boat isn’t huge, but I know literally nothing about boats in general. So whether this one is nice or run of the mill, I haven’t a clue. But I do know he has a heck of a lot of gear, and below deck there’s additional storage.

  “So what are you planning on doing with your English degree?” he asks, catching me off guard again. He’d been looking at my breasts ever since he kissed me in the cabin, and I’ve been pretty sure whatever was going to happen next would involve his mouth on other places of mine.

  And maybe my mouth on his things….

  But clearly he isn’t thinking about sex. Since when did I become the sexed-crazed one?

  “I always wanted to be a writer,” I tell him.

  “Of what?”

  I shrug. “That’s kind of the issue. I don’t know. I always thought I needed more life experience to have a story to tell. But then sometimes I just wonder if it was a childish dream that I’ve been carrying around too long.”

  “Your parents, they supported you in wanting to be a writer?”

  “They died when I was a teenager. My grandparents raised me … but they died a few years ago.”

  His face creases with concern, and I don’t want him to feel sorry for me.

  “So that’s why being a mail order bride wasn’t letting anyone down,” he states. “You don’t have anyone.”

  “Ouch,” I say, feeling more than a sting.

  He frowns and I cross my legs under me, practically trying to ball myself up so I can disappear. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. Like he gets me.

  “Sorry.” He shrugs unapologetically. “I mean, I get it. My parents died when I was in college. Car accident.”

  I swallow, realizing we are actually for reals getting to know one another. We may be in a boat on the surface of the lake, but we’re diving headlong into whatever this is. Husband. Wife. Marriage.

  Life.

  “So did they know you wanted to be a writer?” he asks, not tiptoeing around my heart.

  “Yeah.” I smile at the memory of my mom buying me journals and my dad reading the stories I wrote as a ten year old. They were probably all about princesses and fairy godmothers granting wishes. None of them were about a girl who became a mail order bride. “They never questioned it. My grandparents, either. I guess I’ve always had people who really supported me. I’m lucky in that.”

  “I did too,” Silas says. “I don’t have some fucked-up backstory. Just a kid who had nice parents. Until I didn’t.”

  “So many people have it way worse—not to minimize losing my parents and grandparents, but before they died, I knew I was loved. I always knew I was wanted.”

  “And then what?” Silas asks.

  “Then I couldn’t get a job out of college. I don’t have any savings, which I know that was irresponsible of me. I’ve always been able to make ends meet, but not much else. And, without a family, I didn’t have anyone to fall back on.”

  “So you signed up for Monique’s service.”

  “Yep.” I sigh, looking at the bright blue sky, wishing I felt as infinite as it. “Does that disappoint you? The reason I became your wife?”

  Silas smirks, wistful. “I feel like shit that Monique led you here under false pretenses. But hell, Everly, you don’t disappoint me.”

  “But I’m not what you want. You want a woman who wants to live in the woods and be … what? Barefoot and pregnant? Planting a garden and canning green beans?”

  “I never said that you weren’t what I wanted. You’re the one who doesn’t want to be here. I knew it would be hard to find a wife who’d want this sort of life. But, Everly, if this is roughing it for you, you’d best go. Because, honey, you don’t even know the half of it. Sure, the cabin’s small, but we’re sitting here drinking beer on a lake at the start of summer. It’s not fifteen below in the dead of winter. It’s not frozen lakes and nowhere to go, and canned food and frozen deer for months on end. This is gravy, us here, not working; this is the good part.”

  I twist my lips, listening to this bearded mountain man put everything out there on the table. He’s so easy to talk to, and for some reason I thought a man as handsome as him would make me all jittery … but Silas makes my worry fade.

  “You don’t get lonely out here, Silas?”

  “Fuck, yeah, I do.” He shakes his head. “But girl, life is lonely anywhere.”

  I swallow, hearing the truth in that.

  “Silas, I don’t know the first thing about gardens and freezing meat, and I haven’t started a fire since I was a Girl Scout.”

  “What you don’t know isn’t the issue here.”

  “What’s the issue, then?” I ask.

  “What you’re willing to learn.”

  We sit in the absolute quiet that the great outdoors offers, the water smooth as glass. His words run through my mind, and I don’t know the answer to any of it. Not right now. I just know that even if the lake weren’t so serene, Silas is the sort of man who could calm any storm.

  Breaking the silence, Silas cracks open another beer. “You can write anywhere, can’t you?” he asks. “On your computer? I mean, it’s not like an office job?”

  “Yeah, I could, in theory.”

  Silas just nods, watching me, and then he hands me his open beer.

  “Drink, woman,” he says. “We’re too damn serious.”

  I take a long pull, wiping my mouth proudly. “Now what?”

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Silas

  She sets the beer can in the cup holder next to the captain’s seat, and I pull her into my lap. She straddles me effortlessly, and I love the way she feels in my arms, against my cock, her sweet breath so close to my mouth.

  I wanted to put her at ease today, but I swear every time she opens her mouth and tells me more about her life, I just want her with a deeper ferocity.

  I just want her completely.

  “I’m sorry about the past,” I say, my mouth close to her ear, close enough to cover her body in goosebumps. “And I’m sorry this isn’t the life you thought you’d find. But I’m not sorry you’re here.”

  “Silas,” she moans, sinking into my chest, her hands running through my hair, bringing my face to hers. Her lips are so full, and she parts them, her desire leaning closer to my willing mouth.

  I kiss her, my hand cupping her cheek. My other hand moves under her shirt, running my palm over the soft skin of her back. She presses against me as if she can’t come close enough.

  I lift her hands, and pull her shirt over her head. I take those luscious tits in my hands, tugging down the lacy fabric cups of her bra so I can lick
them properly. Her nipples are firm and tight, and I press my mouth against them as she arches her back, offering herself to me.

  “I want to see your cock, Silas,” she says, softly. “I want to see it so badly.”

  “You like my cock, do you, girl?”

  “So much.”

  I kiss her other tit, the fullness filling my hand.

  “What do you like about it, Everly?”

  She squirms in my lap, and I know that move means her pussy is getting nice and hot.

  “I like how big it is. How it filled me up. How you came in me.”

  “You like it when I come in you? You like your pussy fucked by me?”

  “Yes,” she moans. “I want you to fill me up again.”

  “What else do you want?” I ask, unhooking her bra so I can see those big tits perfectly. I unbutton her jeans, wanting so badly to see her soaked panties, to see her dripping pussy.

  “I want to taste you in my mouth.” Her cheeks are flushed, and I know these words have never crossed her lips before. I can tell she’s never played with dirty talk, and I love how hot and bothered it makes her.

  “You’re going to taste my cock, all right. Right now.”

  She tentatively lowers herself to her knees; licking her lips, she unzips my jeans. I help ease off my pants and boxers, and let her take my hard cock in her hands.

  “I’ve never done this,” she says, holding my cock apprehensively, looking up at me. I can tell she’s intimidated—and hell, I know my cock is a lot to handle even for a more experienced woman. But, for today at least, Everly is my wife, and I won’t let her get scared away.

  “You got this, girl. Just open your mouth and take it nice and slow.”

  “It’s just so big,” she says.

  I put my hand over hers as she holds my shaft. “Just stroke me, and then lick me,” I tell her, teaching her how to get me off nice and good. “And then you’ll put me in your mouth, and suck me hard.”

  She listens, moving her hand up and down. Then, lowering her mouth to my thick hardness, she asks, “Do I spit or swallow? I hear people joke about that but don’t know what the right way is?”

  “Girl,” I tell her, easing her head down to my cock. “There is no right or wrong way with me. We’ll find our own way.”

  She licks the length of my shaft, and she does it with such care, not wanting to leave a single inch of my rod out. My balls are tight and warm, and I’m loving the way her tongue runs over my veiny skin. When she widens her mouth, she relaxes on her knees, and I can tell she’s enjoying this by the way she moans softly.

  My cock fills her mouth, and her fingers run over my balls instinctively, fondling them. I press my hand on her head, urging her to take more of me, and she obliges, her head bobbing up and down, fast, as she sucks me so good.

  I feel my release coming, and she must too, because she reaches a hand up, looking for mine, and I lace my fingers with hers and I come in her mouth. Ropes of my come fill her, and she keeps sucking as if she can’t get enough.

  “That feels so good, girl,” I tell her. “That was the best fucking blow job of my life.”

  When she takes my cock from her mouth, she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

  “Honest?” A smile spreads over her face.

  “I swear to God it was,” I tell her.

  “You taste salty. But it wasn’t gross. It was….”

  I grin, never having had a woman describe the taste of my come before—but I love that innocence about Everly. She says it like it is.

  “It tasted like you,” she says simply. And dammit, for some reason that turns me on so fucking fast.

  I feel my cock get hard again, and those tits of hers are still perky and round right in my face, and I swear they need a good titty-fucking. But first I need her pussy, and her pussy needs me.

  I stand, kicking off my jeans and picking her up so her legs wrap around my waist.

  “I’m taking you below deck, Everly, and I’m going to teach you something else.”

  “What?” she asks, giggling as I squeeze her ass. Her tits are pressed right up in my face as I carry her under the boat, and kick open a door to a twin bed.

  We don’t need something bigger. Because I’m getting on my back and teaching this girl how to sixty-nine. I want her to sit on my face; I want to suck her clit the same way she sucked my cock.

  This time though, I’m not going to come in her mouth. Those tits of hers are going to be coated by me.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Everly

  As I straddle him, I’m not at all nervous, mostly because my pussy is so wet and needy that all I want in the world is for him to release whatever he has done to me.

  Taking him in my mouth and sucking him off turned me on so completely that all I want is to do it again, to taste him, to have his come coat me.

  I thought I’d be able to do that again, as we sixty-nined, but I can’t, because whatever he’s doing to my clit is making me lose all control.

  “Oh, Silas,” I moan, unable to put his thick shaft in my mouth. I keep writhing on top of him.

  I’m basically sitting on him and my pussy is over his mouth, and he seems to know exactly how to tongue me until I’m drunk with desire.

  I lean over him, my tits pressed against his cock, as he licks my slit up and down, then he presses a finger in me and flicks against my clit so nice and hard that I literally gasp. “Oh, my God, oh, God….” And then I fall flat on his cock, unable to do anything but groan as he bangs me deeper and deeper, pressing another finger in my tight pussy until I feel like I’ll explode.

  “You taste so good, baby,” he says, kissing my folds with his scratchy beard, and the mixture of his rough fingering with his soft kisses causes an orgasmic ripple to wash over me. “You’re pouring out all over me, girl,” he says, not letting up for a second.

  He’s banging me so hard, so good, that when he smacks my ass and tells me to turn around I obey without a single thought in my brain. All I’m focused on is the toe-curling finger fuck I’ve just had.

  He eases me onto his lap, and the next thing I know my slick thighs are grinding against him as I sink onto his hard cock.

  “Ohhhh, Silas,” I pant, my hands clawing at his chest. I bite my lips, unable to even scream properly. The way his cock hits me so deep inside makes me fall back, and then steadily swivel my hips. My body seems to know exactly what to do.

  “That’s it, girl,” Silas tells me, his hands running over my tits, circling my nipples. “Ride me just like that.”

  “You feel so good, baby,” I moan. “Ohhh.” I run my hands over his chest, our bodies coated in sweat, my pussy pounding in pleasure and my eyes on his.

  “You are everything, Everly.” He grunts as he comes in me, shooting his manhood into my core. And I come, too, overwhelmed with the intensity of connection.

  I collapse on him, his arms tight around me, my fingers running through his hair as I close my eyes. Inhaling his sweat and his strength, I’m enveloped by him.

  I can’t imagine letting him go.

  * * *

  Later, after we wake up from our nap on the middle of the lake, we bring the boat back to shore. Grabbing jackets from the cabin, Silas tells me he’s taking me on a drive.

  He leads me to an ATV parked in the woods, and tells me to get on.

  I settle behind him and he revs the engine. He drives us over a dirt road, and a canopy of pine trees cover us. He points out that Travis lives down the dirt path in the other direction.

  “Do you hang out with him?” I ask.

  “Hang out? Don’t know about that. He’s a good guy, but not much more to me.”

  “Does he need a wife?”

  “Maybe, but he likes Anchorage. Always heads there when he has a chance. Can’t imagine him settling down with a woman.”

  I smile, holding tight to Silas, liking the idea that he has no more wild oats to sow. Liking the idea that I’m enough for him.

  “S
o where are we going?” I ask, as we cross a dirt road.

  “We’re in the Denali National Forest now; we’re driving up to Black Diamond Peak.”

  “So you live right outside the forest?”

  “Yeah, the stretch of land my cabin is on may look like any piece of woods to you, but the property is rare. To have a cabin on the lake with such easy access to the park? I’m lucky to have it.”

  It’s a beautiful ride, and we stop a few times so Silas can point out vistas. He knows the land well.

  “You can’t hunt here, though, can you?”

  “No, I stay off the park for that, but I don’t need it anyway. I have a hundred acres to hunt on, and the lake is mine.”

  I didn’t realize he owned the lake, and it’s hard for me to even grasp the amount of land.

  “Does Travis live on your property?”

  “Yeah, he and his mom were there before I bought the land. I’m not going to kick them off.”

  Eventually we stop, so we can take in the Healy Valley. It’s breathtaking; flowers are in bloom, yet the mountains in the distance are snowcapped and picturesque.

  “I need to pee,” I tell him. “I’m going to go down there, behind the tree.”

  “I don’t want you out of my sight.” He grabs my hand, not letting me squirm away.

  “Silas, I may be your mail order bride, but I’m not ready to squat in front of you.”

  “It can be dangerous out here.”

  Laughing him off, I walk away, shaking my head. “It’s all green grass and blue skies, husband. Besides, I’m a big girl.”

  I walk down a small path and find a tree. Unzipping my pants, I take care of business. I stand, feeling lighter, and not just because I emptied my bladder. Silas has been so good to me today. Every new thing I’ve learned endears him to me. Maybe living here isn’t as scary as I thought.

  Smiling, I turn back to the path where I left him, but what I see stops me in my tracks.