Beauty and the Mountain Man

by Frankie Love

  His seed spilled all over me and I haven’t washed it off yet. I don’t want to. I relish the idea of being coated in him. It gets me hot all over thinking about it. I look out the window, my pussy wet all over again at the memory. Ronan’s thick cock pushing apart my pussy, his tight balls hitting one another as he pounded against me.

  I press a hand between my thighs, feeling myself, and I lift a leg, so I can better touch my cunt. I groan as I dip a finger inside myself, thinking about Ronan’s mouth sucking my clit as he got me off. I grind my finger deep, adding a second, and using my other hand to stroke my hood in tight circles.

  My release coats my hand and I don’t stop until I’ve completely finished. I’ve been touching myself for years, but I finally have a real man to dream of as I finger fuck myself.

  Dropping my leg, and catching my breath, I notice that the storm seems to have passed, but the snow is so high. In the distance, I see my car half buried. There’s no way to get out of this pass until some snow clears.

  The bedchamber is empty, and I tiptoe out toward the staircase, wondering where Ronan went. I smell coffee and let my nose lead me toward a kitchen. In the back of my mind, I can’t help but feel grateful that my dad isn’t worried about where I’ve gone. It’s like the perfect little escape, to have come here like I did.

  But last night didn’t feel like an escape. It felt like a beginning.

  “Hello, sleepyhead,” Ronan says as I enter the kitchen. “Coffee?”

  I grin. “Please.”

  He hands me a beautiful teacup in lieu of a mug, and I notice the collection of porcelain cups lining the wall, along with several teapots. It’s charming, but I can’t quite put my finger on what is off about this man living here all by himself.

  But in the moment, I only want to focus on one thing: Ronan. I stir in cream and sugar, giddy to be here next to him, already noticing how much softer he looks in the light of day. Maybe the night of pleasure wasn’t just to satiate me. Maybe Ronan needed it as badly as I did.

  He wears a robe and the view of his chest, ripped with muscles, and the tawny hair on his chest is practically begging me to hold on tight and not let go. I am tempted beyond reason, but I know that I need some coffee and breakfast before I consider another romp. Ronan butters some toast for us before joining me in a breakfast nook overlooking the mountains. The white snow is blindingly bright, and it casts streams of light across the window-filled room.

  “So where were you headed last night?” Ronan asks. It’s interesting how we truly don’t know much about each other, except for our need for one another.

  “Home. To my dad’s. I am finishing up my teaching degree at Spokane Valley College, and was headed home for the holidays.” I lift a piece of toast to my mouth. “I planned on surprising him and attending the annual Hollow’s End holiday party. It’s always fun to see everyone all dressed up.”

  Ronan raises an eyebrow. “You’re from Hollow’s End?”

  “Yep. Born and raised. What about you? Are you coming to the holiday party?”

  He shakes his head. “I wasn’t invited.”

  I scrunch up my face. “Why not? Everyone goes. You’re only ten miles out of town. Surely they want you there.” I know how diligent the small-town council is about making sure everyone in town is included. “They get someone to dress up as Santa and kids dress as elves. It’s always such a festive time, and Hollow’s End could use the extra holiday cheer this year. The ladies who run the bridge club will bring mulled cider and yummy cakes and a choir from the local church will sing carols.”

  Ronan frowns. “I don’t know why I wasn’t invited but I wasn’t. I get the impression this town doesn’t really like me, though I haven’t figured out why.”

  I take a sip of my coffee, trying to figure Ronan out. “And you live here all alone? What about work?”

  “I work from home.” He crosses his arms, his jaw taut, as if he is uncomfortable.

  Something is shifting, and I don’t understand it “What do you do?”

  “I’m the general contractor for the Lachlan Group. It’s the family business.”

  My body goes as cold as the snow outside the window. “Lachlan? As in Lachlan Resorts?”

  A hint of a smile splays across Ronan’s face and he leans in. “You know the name?”

  I scoff. “Everyone in this town does.”

  “Really?” Ronan’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t realize—”

  I cut him off. “Lachlan Resorts screwed over Hollow’s End.” And my father, in particular. “Surely you know that?” Looking around the massive kitchen it all begins to make sense. I’m such an idiot.

  “What?” Now it’s Ronan’s turn to scoff. “What are you talking about? Screwed over what?”

  I lift my hands, scooting away from the table. Suddenly feeling totally exposed. Totally seen. I need to put on my clothes.

  My dad can never know about this indiscretion. I would never purposely hurt him, but the Lachlans lied to him outright and made him lose so much in the wake of those lies.

  “Of course, you’re a Lachlan. This house and the money. I wasn’t even thinking last night. I was so caught up in the storm and... oh my gosh. Your family single-handedly messed things up for half the town.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ronan asks, following me.

  Blood pumps through my body. I know I’m impulsive in general, but what I did last night was more than spur of the moment. It was stupid. I came here a virgin and slept with the enemy. It’s like a freaking soap opera and I’m the star.

  I look at this man I don’t even know. A man who has seen parts of me I am embarrassed to have shared so quickly. “If you don’t even know, you’re a bigger ass than I thought when I first met you last night.”

  He snorts. “Yeah, and did you really think I was an ass when you were riding my cock all night?” He shakes his head. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

  “Why? Because you know what a jerk you can be? Truth is, Ronan, last night you didn’t really want to get to know me as a person,” I throw back at him. “You still haven’t asked me a single thing about myself.”

  “If you’d just calm down and have a civilized conversation—”

  I cut him off. “You don’t know me, Ronan. And you clearly don’t know anything about this town.”

  He runs a hand over his beard, his eyes blazing with anger. “Then explain it.”

  “I have to go.”

  “Go? Where? You’re car won’t go anywhere today.”

  “Then I’ll walk.”

  “Ten miles in the snow? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’ll get a ride as soon as I get closer to town.”

  “You’re being irrational.”

  “Last night you seemed to like my throw-caution-to-the-wind attitude,” I tell him, leaving the kitchen and heading toward the staircase.

  “Last night was just about sex though, remember? You running away now is about life or death.”

  I don’t answer, I just storm to my room and pull on my clothes and coat, lace my boots and stuff my hands in my gloves.

  I’m leaving this mansion and going home.

  And then I’ll pretend, somehow, that last night never happened.

  Chapter 7

  Ronan

  I watch her from the same window I watched her from last night when she arrived at the estate.

  So much can change in such a short time.

  She stomps away from the house, half buried in the snow, her feet sinking so deep it’s taking her ten minutes to leave the front gates. How long do I let her run off like this before I carry her inside, pull off those boots, and let her warm her feet by the fire?

  And even if she’s pissed at me now, I have a feeling I could warm her up if she’d just let me.

  Making love to her was enough to break down all my walls and I already know I’d lay my life down at her feet. She’s more than a woman —she’s a beauty— both inside and out.

  But damn, ha
s she got a temper.

  And right now, as I watch her through the window, I see she’s in trouble. My heart pounds as I realize what is happening before my eyes.

  Oh, hell no.

  Two wolves circle her, fangs bared. Their dark grey winter coats a sharp contrast to the bright white snow.

  I run down the staircase, dashing out the front door. Bella may never have wanted to see me again, for reasons I don’t understand, but I certainly want more of her.

  All of her.

  I can’t let anything hurt her.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  Using the security code, I grab my rifle from the gun safe in the hall closet. Easy access to a weapon is vital when you live in the wild. With it locked and loaded, I run toward my girl, terrified that I’ll be too late, but banking on the fact that I spent the last month memorizing this terrain. That helps ensure that I’ll get to her quickly.

  “Help,” she screams, her voice quivering yet clear. She’s in trouble and her words puncture the clear blue sky like sharp blades to my heart.

  I need to save her.

  “Help me! Help!” she shouts, backing up against a massive cedar tree, its heavy branches laden with snow. Her back is against the trunk and the wolves flank her, creeping closer.

  “Oh, Ronan,” she cries, seeing me as I run across the mountainside, toward her, gun in hand.

  I don’t hesitate, I raise my rifle and send shots in the air to scare the wolves off. But it doesn’t work, they turn toward me, ready to feast.

  “Run,” I yell at Bella, and she begins to move toward the house, but falls, and that’s when I see a third wolf emerge from the tree line. Terror is in Bella’s eyes and panic courses through my veins. I can’t let anything happen to her.

  Knowing the two wolves are on the prowl for me, doesn’t change the fact that there is one on the hunt for my woman.

  When the wolf charges toward her, I run with all my might to intercept it. I grab hold of its body and wrestle it to the ground— his bloodthirsty fangs are out, and his beady eyes tell me he won’t back down without a fight.

  Neither will I.

  He snaps at my arm, biting down hard, and I push it away. My hands reach for my rifle before the wolf can take another bite. The agony of the torn skin has nothing on the terror I know Bella faces right now.

  I must end this. I pull out my rifle, just as the wolf bites down on my leg.

  Fuck it all. Now, I have no choice.

  This is not what I planned, but plans went out the window the moment something threatened my woman. My leg is bleeding now and if I let him take out another piece of me, he’ll have everything.

  Gathering all my courage, knowing it’s now or never, I raise my rifle while the blood runs from my arm wound staining the ground, red blossoming against the pure white.

  This wolf must pay.

  I shoot my attacker between the eyes knowing he’s not going to back down unless I take him out.

  It had to be done.

  The other two wolves howl as their pack member falls, then they lock eyes on me before scurrying off—knowing I have more bullets—and their lives are not as precious to me as my Bella’s.

  Yes, my Bella’s.

  She may not realize how I feel for her. She may not understand the strong currents of emotions that flood my body, but there is no way to deny what she means to me. Now, more than ever.

  I fall into the snow, my arm bleeding, and my leg wounded deeply— nearly to the bone. My eyes close and I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay awake. She can’t be out here alone, I must protect Bella.

  Bella.

  Bella.

  My Bella.

  All I see is black as the light fades and I holler, knowing I just need to hold on and get back to the estate to make sure Bella is safe.

  Knowing that I would face death for her tells me that this may be an animalistic draw—the way I desire her— but that doesn’t change anything. In the same primal way that the wolves wanted to kill us both—I need to make her mine.

  Letting her run away this morning, was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done but it told me everything I need to know.

  She’s not going anywhere, not without me by her side.

  “Ronan,” she screams, falling to the ground beside me, her hands on my ice-cold face. “Don’t close your eyes— you must get inside. Ronan, wake up,” she begs.

  I blink, looking into her deep brown eyes, which are filled with tears. As a droplet falls on my face, I know she feels something toward me. Something more than a night of passion. She knows that there is something between us that is alive; that is real.

  I just need to stay alive long enough to tell her what that is.

  Because I know it, plain as day.

  It’s love.

  Chapter 8

  Bella

  I can’t leave him, his blood spilling out on the white snow, sweat on his brow and his hand still grabbing the rifle that saved both our lives.

  But he is unconscious and can’t move this beast of a man by myself.

  Still, if he stays out here, there is no hope for his survival. I must do whatever it takes.

  “Wake up, Ronan,” I beg. “Please.”

  He doesn’t stir, and it scares me. The idea that I could lose a man who I so intimately gave myself to just hours ago is too much to bear.

  Maybe running like I did was rash, insane. Maybe I should have stayed.

  Well, of course, I should have stayed, now that I see what it has cost us both.

  Then I think of my poor father, wondering what he would think of his daughter being with a Lachlan.

  It won’t do.

  But neither will this man freezing on my watch. This man who whispered not-so-sweet nothings in my ear as we made love all through the night. This man who opened me up in more ways than one.

  This man I cannot lose.

  So, I kiss him—angry as I am with who he is—I can’t leave him for dead.

  And he said my mouth was like life-giving nectar. A sweet savior, were his exact words last night—so I kiss him.

  Knowing this can’t be our last.

  I press my mouth against his, begging him to respond. I press my tongue past his lips and urge him to stir awake, under my touch.

  His mouth—even unconscious—is a force to be reckoned with. It is more than I imagined a man’s mouth could be. And he may have said my kiss was a savior—but his kiss is a delicious treat.

  Having it once can never be enough. I need more.

  I need him.

  My kiss awakens him and he opens his eyes. Those soulful eyes soothe my worst fears—he is alive.

  I brush strands of hair from his face, looking at him with fervently.

  “Stay awake,” I plead.

  He nods, ever so softly, and I know he will make it. It’s like he looks at me and there’s no way he wouldn’t survive.

  He is a beast, a mountain man, and he won’t let a few wolves take him down.

  He pulls up, wincing as he moves, and I wrap my arm around his waist, wishing I was more than a shoulder to lean on. Wishing, in that moment, that I was his everything.

  A selfish thought, considering I ran from him, pushed him away. I can’t in good faith hope for such a thing.

  Still, I can’t lie to myself about what my heart feels.

  And whatever it is I feel for Ronan, it is more than lust. It is something that is both more raw and more real than simple longing.

  It’s something I am scared to name.

  Something that pulses inside me, as I pray with all my might, for him to make it into the house safely.

  ----

  I still don’t know how I do it.

  He keeps coming in and out of lucidity as I dress his wounds. I give him a sleep aid when I finally manage to get him in bed which helps immensely.

  Ronan sleeps for most of the day. There is no way to get him medical help in these weather conditions, and thankfully after living on a s
ecluded mountain my entire life I have basic first aid skills. Enough accidents have happened over the years, that it is second nature for most of us in Hollow’s End to know how to bandage a wound. And thankfully Ronan didn’t break anything.

  Now, I rewrap the bandages on his lower leg and forearm, wincing as I do, thinking it must hurt so much and thanking whoever is listening, that he is alive at all.

  His dreams are tormented. He is writhing as he sleeps. I build a fire in his room, knowing how important it is he doesn’t catch a cold.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he cries out, and I press a hand against his cheek, not wanting him to be haunted. Or his dreams to turn to nightmares.

  “I would have come sooner,” he whispers in his sleep, and I run a cold rag over his forehead, trying to read between the lines, knowing the knot of agony I saw in his eyes last night is also buried deep in his heart.

  How I wish I knew how to unravel it.

  How I wish he wasn’t the man I should despise.

  How I wish he were mine.

  Then he calls my name out in his sleep and my heart skips a beat. My body thrums with desire, even on his sickbed, my core wakes for this untamed man.

  This man who calls for me.

  My thoughts force me to sit up straight, set the washcloth aside now that I know he is breathing normally, and leave his bedside. I know the longer I sit next to him, the more attached I will grow and I know that it isn’t fair to fall for a man I can’t have.

  Shouldn’t have.

  I leave the room, rushing down the corridor, trying to gather my thoughts and trying to steady my heart.

  I open a door at the end of the hall, and swing myself inside, pressing my back against the wall with eyes shut as I try to steady my breath.

  When my pulse begins to slow, I slowly open my eyes, and what I see takes my breath away.

  It’s a library, but it is larger than life.

  Bookshelves twelve feet high, with rows and rows of leather-bound books, paperbacks, and hardbacks—all the backs, basically. My mouth drops open as I take it in...it is a marvel. Bigger than a bookstore, surely, and cozier than the library I work in on campus, without a doubt.