Mountain Man's Virgin

by Jay S. Wilder

  It’s like heaven lying in his arms, though. A few more minutes like this couldn’t hurt…

  A soft smile curls my lips up without my even thinking about it. I’m happy, comfortable, cozy. Certain moments of our time last night plays on repeat in my head. I love how perfectly we fit together. He’s rough yet tender when he wants to be. Hot and hard against my soft, smaller size, yet so sweet to me. And I see now that he doesn’t have much use for words, but his hands, his body, his kiss, his eyes, they say it all.

  I can tell from the dim light streaming in that it’s still early morning. Savage and I should talk about…this, us, everything. But we have time. A wave of drowsiness comes over me again, and I close my eyes. I’m not sure how long I dozed off, but a loud banging sound wakes me up.

  Shit.

  Someone’s knocking outside.

  I bolt upright in a panic and push off my side of the bed, grabbing my robe. It can only be Meg, who’s used to finding the front door open when she comes by, but I remember Savage locked the door at some point during the night. It’s possible one of Dad’s friends is here too, but it sure can’t be Mom or Dad. They have keys.

  Taking a guess that it’s most likely Meg, I make it to the door and pull it open part way, aware that I probably look like a hot mess.

  “Morning,” I greet her with a yawn.

  “What the hell happened to you?” she asks, inspecting me from head to toe as her mildly annoyed expression softens to one of extreme curiosity. Meg can read me like a book, but I hope that considering she really did wake me up, that my grogginess is enough to encourage her to go back home for a while.

  “I was sleeping,” I say and pull my robe tighter around my body and casually cross my legs when I feel a bit of warm liquid trickling down my upper thighs. Heat rises to my cheeks at the recollection of Savage coming inside of me, time after time. I should be scared as shit that I took such a risk with him. I was reckless. But I’m not afraid at all. Everything about last night was beautiful, and natural, and right.

  She leans to one side, trying to look past me to see inside. “I can see that. Though…” She stares at my robe. “Since when do you go to bed naked?”

  Ignoring her loaded question, I hold the door half open, blocking her access. “What are you doing here so early? Or maybe I should say, so late… I thought you’d come by last night.”

  “Sorry for flaking out on you, missy. I ended up at Lucky Larry Saloon, then decided I wasn’t up for the drive by my fifth brewsky.” Her face brightens as she widens her eyes and smiles. “I know it was a bit of a waste of time, but I did try sending a text.”

  “It’s okay. I read for a while and then crashed.” That’s pretty much true, except for the part I left out about not crashing alone. I lift my free hand to my mouth to cover a long yawn, selling my exhaustion. The last thing I want is for Meg to find out that not only did I just have a lot of sex, but with Savage, and that he’s still inside, keeping my bed warm. She’s sure to barge right in and wouldn’t be the least bit uncomfortable grilling him from the foot of my bed, if I let her. “Do you mind if I come over to see you later? I’m really beat from last night.”

  “Oh?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Must be all this mountain air.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, still examining my physical state. “You don’t look so well, you know. Maybe I should stay.”

  “No!” I say excitedly and have to take a breath to dial it back a notch. “I mean, it’s fine. I just need a bit more shuteye. I’ll come over after lunch or so.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “You’re acting all sorts of weird right now.”

  “I’m just tired. Hey, you can fill me in on how things went at Lucky Larry’s when I come by. Something happened, right?” I know I’m redirecting, but it’s also because something always happens when Meg goes out for drinks. Or to the movies, shopping, even to family dinners. Men can’t seem to keep their eyes or hands off of her.

  She rolls her eyes and nods to confirm. “I know, right? It was a real shit show, but I’ll give you the deets later. Let’s make it after three, all right? I’m actually just getting in… long story.”

  It’s only then that I take a good look at my best friend. Her eye makeup and lipstick are faded, and there are dark circles under her eyes. She’s wearing a knee-length wrap dress with deep wrinkles that make it obvious she took it off and dropped it in a ball at some point during the night. And the flip flops on her feet are the ones she keeps under the driver seat for times just like this. I’d bet her high heels are sitting in the passenger seat as we speak.

  “Let me guess. You’re on the walk of shame?” I ask, giving her the first genuine smile I could muster since she knocked on my door.

  She bites down on her bottom lip, masking half her guilt. “Like I said, long-ass story.”

  “I’d bet.”

  I’m relieved when she blows me an air kiss and turns, heading down the path toward her cabin. “Later, doll.”

  “See ya.”

  Shutting the door, I make use of the trip by throwing out the leftover veggies on the table, then scoop up my tank top that Savage all but tore off me last night. A dreamy smile comes over me again, and my core tightens from the image of us together. I can’t wait to climb back into bed and into his waiting arms again. As sore as my body feels right now, I don’t think I can possibly get enough of this man.

  There’s no sound coming from the room. I assume he’s still asleep, but my heart sinks when I walk in and see the empty spot where he was sleeping only minutes ago. The soiled bedsheets are gone too.

  He left?

  “Savage?” I call, and head back out to see if he’s in the bathroom. But he’s not. A short walk to the back door confirms it. The back door is closed but the inner latch is undone.

  He left.

  I suppose I can’t blame him for not wanting to be found in his boss and best friend’s daughter’s bed after a night of unbridled lovemaking.

  Returning to the room, I take out a sheet set from my wardrobe and make the bed. I find something to wear, set it out on the bed, and make my way to the bathroom. I hate the idea of washing away all the signs of our night together. I want to hold onto as much of him as I can. Still, it doesn’t feel right climbing into fresh sheets. Like they say, the moment is gone.

  And now, I can use a long, long shower and a few hours of sleep.

  It’s early afternoon when my eyes finally open from my longer than expected nap.

  I hold my hand over my heart. Every time I remember something from last night, my breath catches and my pussy clenches. Even with these clean bedsheets, I can still smell us in the room. His face close to mine, the look he gave me those times he drew out his spent cock from inside of me, his somewhat dark expressions as he slept, which told me something more was on his mind, my utter carnal satisfaction, the way my pulse picked up every time I looked into his eyes.

  But I can’t sleep or daydream all day.

  Slipping out of bed, I find one of my cotton cargo shorts, throw on a sleeveless top, and splash some water on my face. Hunger hits me when I step into the kitchen. Mom and Dad aren’t here yet. By now, I’d have eaten two meals and probably a snack if they were around. Heading to the fridge, I rummage through the leftovers, taking out a bottled water and some grapes. I can definitely eat a full meal, but nothing in there appeals to me.

  Except…

  I pull out one of the containers of marinated steak, a bag of baby potatoes, and the pack of vine tomatoes. Dinner is calling to me. I bet Meg is hungry too.

  The image of Savage making his dinner and sitting up in his cabin all alone to eat his meal makes my chest tighten, and I throw out my entire plan for the afternoon. Well, not entirely. Scooping up a large shopping bag, I throw in the bags and the containers of raw food, find the salt, pepper and my favorite bottle of chopped garlic, and I head out.

  Or rather…up.

 
11

  Savage

  The faint hint of Jane’s perfume invades my senses, and I swallow the low moan forming in my throat.

  This is not the time or place.

  After spending all of Saturday night together, I had a few more hours with Jane at my place on Sunday afternoon. We never left my bedroom. She went home as the sun was going down, and not long after, I saw her mom’s SUV driving up the mountain road.

  Jane’s timing was perfect.

  But right now, things are not so fucking perfect. Not at all. Quite the opposite. I adjust my rearview mirror on my way into work and do my best to avoid the face that may be looking back at me. I refuse to look to my right, too.

  Ben is riding shotgun in my pickup truck, and Jane is in the extra cab seat behind me.

  This is awkward.

  Really fucking awkward.

  I clear my throat and grip the steering wheel, letting out a long, heavy sigh that in no way can hold a candle to my guilt as I wonder why I agreed to this. Ben’s truck wouldn’t start, and as his wife, Rachel used their SUV to get to an early meeting at the crack of dawn, he and Jane were stranded. Sure, some of our coworkers are also up for the summer in their cabins nearby and could’ve also driven them into work, but how could I say no to Ben? I damn well wouldn’t feel right turning him down, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t want to let Jane catch a ride with any of the single or divorced guys living up here who work at the mine.

  Hell fucking no.

  Still. This is more torture than one man should have to take.

  My boss riding shotgun.

  His daughter in the seat behind me.

  His teenage daughter.

  The girl who, unbeknownst to him, I spent most of the weekend with my tongue, fingers or cock buried between her legs. All I can think about is her voice calling my name, her legs wrapped around me as I fucked her pussy—pussy that was untouched before I came along.

  From where I’m sitting, Ben has no idea what’s gone on and thank fuck for that. He’s his usual talkative, cheerful self, giving me the rundown on the two pro baseball teams he’s rooting for this year. I nod politely but don’t add much to the conversation, which he’s also used to. Jane is quiet too, although every so often when our eyes meet in the rearview mirror, she shoots me a playful or seductive smile that makes me hard as fuck. I swear the next time we’re alone I’ll have to punish her for tempting me while her father is with us. Sitting. Right. Fucking. Here.

  I’m not built for secrets, lies or games. The tension in the air feels so thick that I wind my window down when we’re halfway to the mine to force some air into my lungs. When we’re far enough down the mountain, their cell phones pick up a signal and Jane busies herself catching up on emails and texts. Ben checks his work email, and the second he looks over to me, I know I’m in for another talk.

  “Deadline’s on Tuesday,” he says, facing forward.

  “Deadline?” I ask, groaning inwardly because I already know he’s referring to the job opening. But if talking about a job I don’t want will get his focus off the wicked, sinful energy bouncing between his daughter and me, I’m willing to go with it.

  “For the assistant supervisor position.” He turns slightly in his seat and looks back at his daughter. “Oh. Jane, tell me, are the assistant supervisor applications starting to come in?”

  Only her eyes look up from her screen. She meets his eyes, then searches for mine in the rearview mirror, then returns her gaze to her dad. “Yes. It’s looking good, Dad,” she answers.

  “Nice. What kind of numbers are we looking at? Anyone looking for a lateral transfer from another department or from a different mining location?”

  “You know I can’t talk specifics with nonmanagement staff like Savage.”

  “Yes, yes. HR and all your policies.”

  “Most of which are governed by collective agreements, so, not really something I have any control over,” she tells him.

  “Good point, love.” Ben’s focus shifts back to me. “I should still make a final appeal to you about the jobs.”

  “To me?” I ask.

  “I won’t mince words, son. I’m hoping to see your name in the list of candidates when I’m going through the applications with the other shift supervisors.”

  “And I wish that was something I could bring myself to do,” I admit. I won’t lie. The job still isn’t for me.

  “Did you give it some thought?”

  “Not much.”

  “If you’re not sure, apply anyway,” he persists. “Go through the process. Keep your options open. I don’t want you to miss out on it. You have a good shot at getting one of the jobs. And once you get in, you’ll do great. No doubt about it.”

  I press my lips together and nod a few times as I wait for him to change the subject.

  He doesn’t. “Hey, Jane?” he calls back to her, and she gives him the same look as before.

  “Yeah, Dad?”

  “Do me a favor and put on your HR hat for a minute?”

  She lowers her phone and this time, her head moves up with her gaze. “Sorry, what?”

  “Help me talk some sense into Savage.”

  “Sorry, what do you want me to do… with… Savage?” The confusion playing on her face makes me smile. It’s clear to me that her focus was on something else. She’s probably thinking the same thing as I am. Ben wouldn’t ask her to do anything with, to, or for me if he knew what she and I did to each other this past weekend—mostly under his roof.

  “Help me out, kiddo. Give him the spiel on why applying to this job is good for his career development, whether he’s offered the job or not, whether he accepts the job or not.”

  She straightens up in the seat. “Sure! I can do that right now, you know, in general terms. First of all—” she starts but Ben cuts her off.

  “Not now. Find some time to sit him down in a meeting room today or tomorrow… anytime before the deadline to apply. Preferably sooner than later.”

  I keep my eyes on the road and say nothing. He wants her to sit me down in a meeting room? If I’m alone in a room with his daughter I’m liable to bend her over a chair or spread her out on a table. There’ll be lots of fucking, not talking.

  “Uh, okay… she turns to look at me through the mirror again and smiles so brightly that it lights up her eyes. There’s a naughty gleam in them. I hope Ben doesn’t notice.

  “My afternoon is wide open,” she suggests. “Or I can stop by your place after work if you can’t pull away from the mine. I know you’ve been pretty busy… down there.”

  I don’t know if her play on words is intentional, but I almost come in my pants from the way she says it. It’s at times like these that I’m glad people are used to me not talking. All I do is force a nod.

  “When do you prefer,” Ben asks. “I want to make sure you’re locked into her schedule. Give her a firm time and place.”

  No one can argue with that. “Tonight after work,” I answer. “Come by whenever.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jane says, beaming.

  I’m horny as hell and tense as fuck by the time I roll onto the gravel parking lot at the mine, my fingers in a tight, white-knuckle grip as I steer into an empty spot. The truck is barely in park and I mumble good day to them and get the hell out of there. I need to get her sweet scent and sexy voice out of my head. And more than that, I need some distance between Ben and me to avoid giving off the wrong signals. I’m already halfway to the mine entrance when I look around and see them walking together to the office trailer, but I quickly turn to face forward.

  There’s a pit in my stomach. This cannot end well.

  What Jane and I need to do is either tell Ben everything or put the brakes on what we started.

  Easier said than done.

  I’ve had Jane over at my place every night this week. At my front door. On the couch. On my kitchen counter. In my bedroom. Even in the shower. In secret. She doesn’t stay overnight. It’s easier for her to tell her paren
ts she’s out for a walk or hike or at her friend’s cabin than for either of us to openly admit what we’ve been up to the second she steps in through my front door. What they don’t know won’t hurt them—until they find out.

  For now, I’ll take as much of her as I can get.

  Every evening when she leaves, I roll onto her side of the bed before falling asleep. It smells like her. It’s stupid, a grown man like me, holding on to this fantasy. We can’t have a happy ever after ending. We just…can’t. Still, it’s almost getting to the point where I can’t fully remember what it was like being completely alone.

  Almost.

  Not completely.

  There are still moments during the night or early in the morning where the torment returns. Where all the loss in my life hits me with a crushing blow that I can’t ignore.

  I can push those feelings down during the long, physically taxing day to day rigors of low-tech, rustic living on this mountain.

  And when I bury myself in my job at the mine.

  And more recently, when I’m buried inside of Jane.

  Not that she’s a distraction. She isn’t. Far from it, but I can’t deny that just seeing her hips sway as she walks in through my front door…her legs wrapped around my waist… her mouth on me… makes me forget every fucking devastating thing that’s happened to me in the past.

  “Glad you took my advice,” Ben calls out to me.

  I almost don’t hear him, as I’m walking away from the mine opening. It’s Friday at the end of our shift, a time that we all just want to pack it in and start the weekend. A few of the other mining staff nod my way or give me a thumbs-up at his comment, as though my decision to apply for the job opening is somehow tied to their satisfaction.

  “Yeah, boss,” I reply and keep walking.

  “Good to see you taking another step toward moving on and moving up,” he says, but I know there’s a message if I read between the lines. There’s nothing he’d like more than for me to stop sulking and pulling away from everyone and everything, like I’ve been doing for years. If only he knew.