She needs a man who will protect her, not hurt her.
I could be that man.
Not that I know anything much about her. But damn, I want to.
“Lily is fast asleep. Go help yourself to a shower,” I tell her, placing the infant in the small crib. “I’ll get you a change of clothes and make you something to eat.”
Marcie gives me a grateful smile before kneeling down and kissing Lily’s forehead.
She heads to the bathroom to take her shower and I set a change of clothes just inside the door.
“James?” she asks, her silhouette clear through the sheer curtain.
“Just leaving some clothes,” I say, my voice rough. The steam of the shower curling around me, making it hard to think clearly.
When I look at her, it isn’t just about a hungry cock - it’s about this primal urge to wrap my arms around her and never let a soul hurt her, ever again.
She pokes her head around the curtain, her face brightened considerably in just those few minutes. The hot water must be just what she needs. And I’m not surprised, considering she gave birth such a short time ago ... no wonder she’s been sleeping so hard - she is still recovering.
“Thanks,” she says. “God, this feels so incredible.”
“Good,” I say. I’ve always been a man of few words, and this is no exception. If I say much more right now, I’ll scare Marcie away like a skittering little rabbit.
“Do you have any shampoo?” Her voice is as sweet as honey. “You’ve only got a bar of soap in here.”
I frown. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “This is better than nothing.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Sorry, that sounded rude.”
“Not rude,” I say. “Just honest.” My hand is on the doorknob and I’m aiming to leave just as soon as she stops talking. “I’m gonna go then, I want to respect your privacy... I mean it’s only a curtain keeping me from feasting on you.” I regret the words the second I say them. Nice job at keeping your cool, man, my head reprimands.
But Marcie doesn’t yell at me to get out like I expect her to, she just lifts her brows, and her pink tongue swipes over her lips.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean...” I rub my palm over the back of my neck. “I’ll go make us some dinner.”
“Thanks,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, and I swear when she says, “I’m hungry too,” she’s not talking about food.
“I’m fucking starved,” I growl out, turning before I say anything else I might regret.
But I swear to God she whimpers behind me. It takes all my restraint not to claim her then and there. But she’s a little bird with a wounded wing and my goal right now is to help her take flight, not tie her down with my own needs.
I leave the bathroom and close the door, resting my back against the wall in the hallway, my cock a fucking force to be reckoned with. If it was just me here, all alone in this cabin, I’d take care of my hard-on, but it’s a one-room cabin - perfect for me ... but sweet Lily is all alone out there. I’m not gonna climb the ladder to the loft just to jack off.
So I step out on the covered front porch for a moment, the frosty air helping me with my aching cock. When I’ve cooled off, I head back inside, and find Marcie pulling open a cupboard door on her tiptoes in one of my t-shirts, it hits her at her thigh, and she opted not to pull on my sweats that would be about ten sizes too big.
Fine with me.
Though my cock might not appreciate seeing so much skin. God, she looks incredible.
“Hey,” she says. “I thought I could help with dinner.”
Running a hand over my beard, I shake my head. “No, you shouldn't be on your feet.”
“Let me do this,” she says. “I have to repay you somehow.”
Frowning, I step toward her. “Repay me for what?”
“You saved my life. Lily’s life. We wouldn’t have survived out there if you hadn’t have found us.”
I wave it off, not wanting to be thanked for doing my duty - giving a woman and her child shelter from the worst storm this region has seen in a hundred years - any man would do that. But even as I think it, I know the truth. I grew up surrounded by men who believed women were property to do with as they pleased, and to be discarded whenever they weren’t of use anymore.
I’ve spent my adult life running from men like that and vowing never to be one of them.
“James,” Marcie says, reaching for my hand. “I mean it. Thank you. And thank you for taking care of Lily. I was clearly exhausted. How long did I sleep?”
“Two days,” I tell her, pulling out some cans of soup and grabbing a pot.
“I’d been running for three days before you found us,” she says softly, her body so close to mine, and it takes all my self-control not to wrap my arms around her. “I hadn’t slept at all. And then the rain started.”
I turn on the stove and begin stirring the lentil soup. “Well, the storm is still raging. The radio says it’s predicted to last through the week. Once it passes, we can get you where you need to go.”
“Right,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’ll go as soon as possible. I’m sure you’re more than ready for us to be out of your hair.”
I lift an eyebrow, reaching for bowls and spoons, and grinning down at her. “Hardly. I’ve been alone a long ass time, it’s not the worst thing to have some company.”
Reaching for a beer in the fridge, I offer her one. She accepts it and we clink the necks of the bottles.
“Cheers,” she says, her eyes not meeting mine.
“To life,” I say, thinking how grateful I am that I was out on my property when she was in desperate need of help.
But she doesn’t take my words well, instead, her eyes glass over and she repeats my toast with tears filling those gorgeous hazel eyes.
“Shit, what is it?” I ask, setting down my beer and stepping closer.
“Nothing,” she says. “Just ... I lost my sister recently. She died and ... and it’s hard to imagine the world without her. Without her life.”
“Fuck,” I say, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You really have been through hell, haven’t you?”
She looks up at me, her bottom lip trembling. “That’s only the half of it.”
“I don’t doubt that.” I swallow, wishing I could pull her in my arms, wipe her tears away, but what she really needs is a nourishing meal, not a stranger to make a pass at her. “Soup is probably ready. Are you hungry?” The words we exchanged in the bathroom floating through my brain as I say them again.
She gives a forced smile and nods. “Yeah.”
I clear my throat and ladle the soup into bowls, then sit with her at the table made for two. Lily sleeps only a few feet away from us and I look over to check on her, smiling when I see the sweet cherub face.
“You’re so good with her.” Marcie picks up her spoon and my shoulders relax when she takes a few bites. Seeing her eat is a good sign. She needs to regain her strength.
“I had lots of practice growing up,” I tell her. “Lots of cousins.”
“Do you see them much?” she asks.
“No. Not as much as I’d like.” Truth is, I ran just like her. But unlike her, it was because I was too much of a coward to bring assholes like the boyfriend she’s running from to justice. “I don’t go into town very often, not since...” I sigh and open up more than I have to anyone in a long time. “Not since my mom died.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, resting her hand on mine for a moment. And I feel like she understands me. I don’t know her story and she doesn't know mine, but I have a feeling we both understand loss in a way lots of other people don’t.
“Well, I’m grateful for the practice you had,” she says, pulling her hand away. “Lily is reaping the benefits right now.” She stands up and goes to the counter to grab us napkins.
“It’s no problem. She’s an angel. Just like her mom,” I say, scooting back from the table, ta
king a long pull from my beer.
Marcie turns toward me, napkins in hand. Her eyes meet mine then, and I swear for a moment I think I’ve said the wrong thing. But then she steps toward me and cups my cheek with her hand. “You’re a good man, James.”
Despite the warning in my head that I’m overstepping, I pull her toward me, my hand on her hips and she steps closer, between my legs. She’s small and fits perfectly. Our eyes lock and I can feel the need inside me grow, it’s thick and hot.
God, she’s so damn close.
Close enough to kiss...close enough for so much more.
I know she feels it too, because she dips her head to mine, brushing her lips softly across my own. But then Banjo begins to bark, and she pulls back quickly.
The kiss was chaste, a thank you, a moment in time that I wish would last the whole night through.
“Marcie,” I start, but she shakes her head, stepping back.
“Sorry, “ she says. “I shouldn't have.”
“I’m glad you did.” I sigh, dragging my fingers through my hair.
Whoever Lily’s father might be - he’s a fucking bastard to hurt the two girls in my cabin now. Though Marcie is certainly no girl - with curves like hers, she is all woman.
That cock of mine twitches again and I groan, needing it to keep itself out of sight. Marcie is in a lot of pain right now and doesn’t need to think I’m only thinking about fucking her.
Because in truth, I’m not thinking that. I’m thinking about caressing her, stroking her, kissing her until she melts, until the tension in her shoulders fades and her body is a puddle of pleasure - no more pain.
Marcie hands me a napkin, but before my fingertips touch it, it falls to the floor. She bends over, and I see she isn’t wearing her panties. Bare-bottomed and so fucking cute that the curve of her ass sends my mind into a fucking tailspin - but then I see it. The tattoo on her lower back.
Except it’s not a tattoo. It’s a brand. A mark burned into her soft flesh.
Anger sizzles inside of me, growing into an inferno, because I know who did that to her. And in a flash, I understand who she is running from. Why she’d be so damn desperate to leave.
She’s been branded by the leader of the Wild Ride MC.
My father.
Chapter Three
Marcie
“The rain is still coming down hard,” I say when James comes out on the covered porch with me.
I’ve been here almost a week, and there doesn’t seem to be any end in sight to the flooding. Not that I mind. I don’t want to leave. And it’s not just because I have no idea where Lily and I are going to go.
I don’t want to leave James.
I’ve known a lot of men in my life. Bad men. My father was a mean drunk who had no trouble putting his hands on me and my sister whenever he was angry. I think that’s why she ran off with the first man who made eyes at her. And of course I followed her, right into a pit of vipers.
I was sixteen when the Wild Ride MC took us in. At first it wasn’t all bad. I was left alone to my books most of the time. And in the evenings I helped at the bar. Sometimes men got too handsy, but I learned how to deal with them.
And then Amy got pregnant.
I know the abuse started before then, but slowly she became a skeleton of the strong girl I’d known. I’d begged her to run away with me, but she said they’d kill her. And in a way they had.
I shiver now, memories assaulting me. James’ arms wrap around me, and he pulls me against his side and rubs my arms. It’s a simple gesture, intimate, and full of heat that we’ve both been trying to ignore the past week.
“You should go in. It’s cold out here.” His voice is gruff, and when I glance up at him, I see him scanning the woods, like he’s looking for danger.
He’s been more broody, more withdrawn the past few days than he had been when I first arrived, and I worry that he’s getting annoyed with us being here.
But then he looks down at me, and my insides melt, and a sense of belonging warms me from the inside out. I’ve had men look at me with lust before, but the way James looks at me is different.
I see the desire, the hunger and need, but there’s also tenderness. My core aches, my skin tingles with anticipation. I kissed him once, but I’d pulled back, worried that I’d mistaken his signals.
But there’s no mistaking the way he’s looking at me now.
“James.” His name on my lips sounds more like a whimper. I want him to kiss me. The thought of his mouth on mine, his large calloused hands roaming my body, it consumes my dreams.
After what happened with my sister, I never thought I’d feel this way about a man.
But I trust James - completely.
“Marcie,” he says, voice gruff, palms cupping my jaw, mouth so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on my lips. “You have to stop looking at me that way, sweetheart.”
“Why?”
His thumb traces my bottom lip.
“Because you have no idea what I want to do to you. And you...” He sighs and rests his forehead against my own. “You just had a baby.”
Tell him the truth, my brain screams.
And I’m about to when a crash sounds in the distance.
James jumps back on full alert. And my own heart begins to thump like it’s outside my chest.
They found me. It’s my first thought. And I know my next actions are irrational, but fear seizes me.
I run into the cabin and grab Lily, ready to run. I don’t even bother looking for my shoes. I need to get out of here, now. It’s James who stops me from bolting out the door.
“Slow down.” He takes my shoulders, holding me firmly and forcing me to look at him. “You’re okay. It was just a tree falling.”
“A...a tree.” My breathing is labored. “You’re sure?”
He nods, gently taking Lily from my arms and placing her back in her makeshift crib.
I’m trembling when he turns back to me and pulls me into his arms. “You’re safe.”
I shake my head against his chest. “I’ll never be safe.”
He sighs, tilting my chin up. “I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you and Lily are. I promise you that, Marcie. Even if you don’t want to tell me what happened.”
“I want to tell you.” My hands fist in his shirt, and I know it’s time. “Do you have anything stronger than beer?”
His lips twist up and he nods. “I have a bottle of Glengoyne I’ve been saving.” He moves toward one of the cupboards, crouching and pulling out a bottle.
“This stuff is expensive,” I say, taking the bottle from him when he hands it to me.
“You know your whisky?” he asks one brow raised when he sets two glasses on the table.
I shrug. “I tended bar at the Wild Ride Club for the past two years, so I got to know a few things.”
James tenses. I see it, and I know why, he’s realizing just how much trouble I’m actually in. But he doesn’t ask questions, just pours two large shots, then hands me one.
I take a sip, then shoot the whole shot back, needing the liquid courage to tell him the truth, of facing the memories.
He pours me another shot when I sit down at the table, pulling my knees to my chest, and tell him how Amy and I ended up being part of one of the most notorious motorcycle gangs in the state of Wyoming.
I tell him everything.
“Lily’s your niece?” There's no judgment in his eyes, but I can see him processing everything.
I nod, sipping at the aged whisky. “I had to leave. Amy begged me to take her. And I knew...” I glance away from those intense blue eyes that study me now. “You don’t know what they’d have done to me.” I shiver in fear at what I’d overheard. “I heard them talking about selling my virginity—”
James pushes his chair back and stands so fast it topples to the floor. He curses loudly, but thankfully Lily only stirs in her sleep and doesn’t wake up.
“I’m sorry for bringing you into this,” I say,
chewing on my bottom lip.
“You don’t have to be sorry about anything.” His words are intense, and when he crouches in front of me, there’s a violence in his eyes. Not directed at me, but I know he wants vengeance. And it scares me, because I don’t want him to get hurt.
“I’m sorry for lying to you.”
“I understand why you did.” He takes my hands and brings them to his lips. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do.” I wipe the tears away, wanting to be strong, but James’ eyes tell me he will be my strength right now.
“You’ll stay here. You and Lily. I’ll keep you safe. I already promised you that. This changes nothing. Except...” He glances away, his jaw clenching like he’s holding something back.
I touch his cheek, run my fingers over his beard. He’s so handsome. “Except what?”
He looks back at me, and what I see is a starving man. “You were honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you. I want you, Marcie. So fucking bad my balls ache with it. But I won’t push you—”
I bury my hands in his hair and kiss him, hard. He groans against my mouth, and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. And I tell him what I’ve been craving to tell him for the past week, “I want you, too.”
Chapter Four
James
Her lips are soft, just like I imagined. She holds on to me, as if for dear life, and maybe right now - that is what this is. Life or death. Marcie’s body presses against mine with a need that is desperate and raw. A need I understand. Because my body thrums to life with desire for her, to be her one and only. Her everything.
“God, Marcie,” I groan, my hands running down her back, drawing her closer. I’ve saved myself for this moment - for her.
We roll into my bed, and with the baby asleep, we begin to undress one another, slowly, and with intention, knowing this moment is electric and ours. So much of our lives haven’t been our own. But this? This is ours and we aren’t sharing any of it.
Heart of the Mountain Page 2