Mountain Man's Virgin

by Jay S. Wilder

  We live in such a small well-planned town that jail is less than a five-minute drive from the saloon. They took us to county lockup to cool off, and as neither of us wanted to press charges, we’re in and out of processing within a few hours.

  Ben is waiting for us when they cut us loose. There’s no sight of Josh’s friends, so Ben makes us both get into his truck. He drops off Josh, then heads for the side road to drive up the mountain.

  “You’re a big guy,” he tells me as he navigates the dark, winding roads up the hill. “You gotta know your strength.”

  “Sorry,” I say, my head facing forward.

  “I thought we were past this five years ago.”

  “I messed up,” I admit.

  “What the hell’s been going on with you these last few weeks?”

  I shrug my shoulders but say nothing. I have no answer for him. Talking now will do more harm than good.

  “That kid’s a coworker. Not only that, but he’s one of those employees that wouldn’t hesitate to let this shit spill into the job. And with both of you in the running for that assistant manager job, there’s no telling what kind of bullshit he’ll bring to management through the union if…” He lifts one hand off the steering wheel and rubs his temple.

  “It’s all right if you choose someone else for those jobs,” I tell him. “I know… I let you down.”

  “It’s not that. It’s just… This whole situation is disappointing.”

  I don’t answer. The truth is that Ben can never be as disappointed in me as I am in myself. I should’ve walked away. Between Josh and me, I’m the grownup. I fucking hate losing my friend’s respect. Worst of all, it’ll be that much more of a blow if he finds out about me and Jane.

  When he finds out.

  I have to tell him soon, or I’ll kill any chance of him giving me his blessing to be with his daughter.

  Trying my best to push down all this turmoil, I don’t say another word. Neither does he. It’s a silent drive home, but everybody’s timing sucks tonight. Jane and her girlfriend roll up in the convertible right behind Ben after he parks his truck. She must’ve gotten word about the fight, because she hops out and approaches us tentatively, asking for details about what happened, and if we’re all right.

  No fucking way.

  I can’t see straight, let alone form an even-tempered thought or a sentence. If I say a word right now, Ben will know.

  “It’s late,” I tell them both, and turn to make my way up the mountain. “Good night.”

  I don’t know what explanation Jane gives her father, but a few minutes after I make it to the cabin and grab myself a beer to calm down, she walks in my front door.

  “Oh my God, Savage. I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not fucking all right. You need to go home,” I order her. I’m clenching the beer so hard in one hand that my throbbing knuckles might start bleeding again.

  “Savage, please,” she begs, her voice squeaking out her plea. “Give me a chance to explain.”

  I don’t even look at her. I can’t right now. My jaw is tight, my hands are shaking, and I am not calm. “Don’t. You don’t owe me an explanation. Just go. This is not a good time.”

  She takes a step toward me, and I see her eyes are red. She’s been crying.

  “Please,” she continues to beg, sounding breathless.

  “No!” My voice booms, echoing around the living room. “I asked you not to go on that trip!” I slam down my beer on the coffee table so hard that the bottom of the glass bottle shatters. Beer and glass shards fly across the fucking table, and I feel like a dick for losing my shit around her. “Leave now… before I say something we both regret… before I make the decision for you and make sure you never come here again.”

  18

  Jane

  My chest is tight as I pull the flannel blanket at the foot of Savage’s bed over my naked body.

  I’m nervous. I’m not supposed to be here, but I don’t care.

  That road trip weekend was the worst experience in my life, and then I spent the next two weeks regretting every second after I stepped foot in Meg’s convertible. I was perplexed when Savage broke his beer bottle in a fit of rage and kicked me out of his house. His reaction was extreme, but then Meg told me why the next day. Correction, showed me why.

  Those pictures from the party.

  I cringed when she texted them to my phone. No wonder Savage is upset. He won’t talk to me. His eyes pierce through me at work, as though I’m invisible. There was even an evening during the week that I left work early and went up to his cabin to wait for him. The second he saw me on his porch, he put his pickup truck in reverse and drove away.

  From his own place.

  He won’t let me into his cabin. He actually locked all his doors. His windows too. Trust me, I checked.

  It’s been two weeks, and I have to wonder. If he’s mad at me and punishing me for going on that trip, then sure, I can wait it out. But there’s a part of me that isn’t sure. Has he cut me out of his life entirely? Are we over?

  Savage won’t let me close, and I can’t phone or text him. We have no common friends that know about us, otherwise I’d beg one of them to appeal my case to him on my behalf. Yes, I’m that desperate. And if he keeps this up, I might be forced to confront him in the parking lot at work.

  Desperate times and all that.

  And yes, I’m thoroughly aware that we just started to get to know each other, but the fact is I’ve grown to care deeply for this man. I can’t remember what my life was like, what was in my heart, how I existed before I fell for him. If I can just get him to give me a second to explain what happened, I know we can fix this. I know we can get back to where we were before that wretched road trip.

  Which is why I’m willing to go to extreme lengths.

  Almost every evening for two weeks, I’ve been sneaking up to his place, knocking on his door, pleading with him from his porch, begging for him to talk to me, to no avail. When this weekend rolls around, I step up my game. Mom took Dad on her weekend business trip, and Meg is in town with her parents. No one’s around to be my voice of reason or to inquire on my movements. I take it upon myself to check each door and test every window to find a way inside his cabin. I can honestly say that I never thought I had it in me to be this persistent. What can I say, I’m a fool in love. And apparently, putting hardcore stalkers to shame is my superpower.

  On Saturday around mid-afternoon, I find out that persistence pays off. Savage slipped up and forgot to lock one of his bedroom windows before heading out on his weekly trip to the dense backwoods to find firewood.

  And now, I’m here in his bed without his knowledge, in anticipation and curious how long it will take for him to find me.

  I hear the front door creak open a few hours later—hardcore stalking takes a hell of a lot of patience, it seems—and hold my breath, waiting. His heavy footsteps on the wooden floor grow louder. He’s coming. My gaze is fixed on the open bedroom doorway, anxious for him to walk inside.

  “I fucking hate that you slept with that asshole.”

  “I didn’t,” I say to the still empty doorway.

  He’s just out of my field of vision, beyond my reach. My eyes close and I soak in the sound of his voice. I missed hearing it so much that even if it’s terse and cold and filled with venom, I’d prefer to hear it that way a lot more than not having him speak to me at all.

  I bolt upright, wrapping myself in the blanket. If he won’t come to me, I’ll go to him. I’ll get down on my knees and beg if I have to. My toes barely touch the floor, and he’s right in front of me. My eyes crawl up his camo-covered legs and plaid covered torso, and when our eyes meet, the intensity of the pain I find there burns a hole in my stomach. Pain I caused without intending to.

  “I didn’t sleep with him. I’m yours. I only want you, Savage.”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “Please forgive me,” I whimper o
ut in a shaky voice. “Nothing happened. I wish I hadn’t gone at all. The whole weekend was a nightmare, but it’s nothing compared to coming back and finding out how much I hurt you.”

  I sit there, naked and vulnerable, hoping he sheds that layer of ice around him. His eyes graze down my body, and when I open my mouth to continue begging, he grabs the blanket around me and drags it away, taking in my nakedness. My lips tremble, and I hold my breath. It’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before, but God, it’s that piercing stare. I’ll do just about anything to melt away the frozen look he’s giving me.

  “Savage, please,” I whisper. “Say someth—”

  His hands grip my shoulders and he covers his body with mine, lowering us to the bed, and I can’t believe how much relief floods my body from his touch. I feel his lips smash onto mine, kissing me so hard that it hurts, but I love it. Our bodies begin to mesh together as one, his hard lines against my soft curves, like we’re supposed to be.

  But then he lifts off of me, causing me to miss his warmth like it’s life itself.

  “He put his hands on you,” he grounds out, and I know then that he definitely saw the pictures.

  “I didn’t want him anywhere near me,” I admit. “That photo, whoever took it caught us in a split second. I left them moments later. Then I lost Meg, was stuck with no place to stay all weekend, and all I could think about the entire time was you.”

  “You shouldn’t have gone,” he answers.

  “You were right. Those guys are bad news.”

  “You need to tell your dad about us,” he demands.

  “I will.”

  “When?”

  “Monday after work. I promise. He’s away with my mom and is going straight to work on Monday. I won’t see him until then.”

  “I’m not sneaking around anymore, Jane,” he warns.

  “You don’t have to. I’ll fix this.” I wrap my arms around his neck, closing my eyes as I inhale his familiar woodsy scent of cedar and pine, trying to close the distance. “You’re too important to me. I’ll find a way to tell him. I want to be with you. I want to be here.”

  There’s nowhere else on earth I want to be.

  I belong to him.

  I’m his.

  19

  Savage

  “I want to be here, Savage,” she tells me in a soft and sweet voice laced with sinful intentions. “I want only you. No one else.”

  She knows she’s taunting me and I can tell she loves it.

  I should be careful with this girl. She’s eighteen, but for a rugged mid-thirties man like me, she might as well be jailbait. The girl’s barely legal, but the time for reconsidering my next move is long past. I look across at her in my bed as she lies there, completely bare, her hand just inches from her barely legal pussy, her legs parted for me. I didn’t invite her into my cabin or to my bedroom, but I sure as hell won’t ask her to leave. Not now. Not when she’s begging for it. Not when she’s spent the last two weeks reminding me with just her eyes that she and I have unfinished business.

  I glance across the room and my eyes land on the trail of clothes she peeled off her body on her way from my bedroom door to the side of my bed. Under the dim moonlight shining in through the sliver of open space between the heavy curtains of my bedroom windows, every flowery item of clothing seems feminine and out of place in my room. From her silky panties and bra to the tank top and short shorts she had on when I saw her at the edge of the woods a few hours ago. I follow the dim stream of light to where it falls on her body, making her creamy skin seem even more pale and inviting. I can stare at her for hours, but fuck, tonight I won’t. I need to feel every square inch of this woman. I’ve held off for years before I met her, and although I’ve avoided her for only two weeks, I can’t bear to go without her that long. Waiting another second feels like fucking torture. Before I met Jane, I had grown used to being alone in my own world out here in the woods. I was celibate by choice for years, didn’t want another woman after my wife passed away five years ago. But since the second Jane showed up, everything changed. Now, every minute that I push down the temptation to fuck her causes my fixation on her to grow more urgent.

  And now she’s right here.

  In my cabin of her own free will.

  After I chased her away.

  Without my asking.

  And fuck, I’m ready to break every rule for her.

  She tilts her head toward me and gives me a pensive smile. Just as she does, she parts her legs wider, showing me more of her pink, glistening pussy, inviting me without words. I plan to invade her, possess her and leave my mark on her with my mouth, tongue, teeth, hands, my cock and my seed. I’m already hard as steel but just one look makes my dick harder and causes my balls to tighten. They’re in overdrive, filled and ready to burst, so much so that I can feel some pre-cum leave the tip and soak through my boxers to a spot on my dirty work pants.

  Seeing her in my bed, in my space, lying there on my bedsheets she looks so comfortable. It’s as if she’s always been here, and well, maybe this is where she belongs. I just hope she understands what this means for the both of us.

  I’ll hold her to the promise she just made.

  No more sneaking around.

  I move a hand down and slip it under the loose waistband of my pants, wrapping my fingers around my thick, meaty erection. It’s thick all right, bigger than most too, which shouldn’t be a big shocker for a six-foot-four man like me. I free it from my pants and boxers, ignoring how wet it is at the tip as I stroke it a few times. Dripping pre-cum just for her because making up with her is fucking overdue. Her eyes widen from the sight of it and I groan out some of my desire. I almost can’t wait until it’s buried deep inside her, filling her pussy, stretching her past any limit she thought she had, owning her outright, spoiling any chance for her to be with any other man.

  Because she’s mine now.

  Only this woman in my bed can satisfy the need built up in me. She started it, with all her sultry stares, the fleeting, not so innocent conversations she initiated, and every playful suggestion in her body language that she sent my way since she walked into my life a month ago. The thing is, actions have consequences. Maybe she was used to taunting the boys in town or getting her way with the younger men who work at the mine where we both work. But she provoked me, a rough, rugged bastard of a man. I was content to live the rest of my life alone, but now that she showed up and riled me up, something’s got to give. And tonight, I’m going to eat her alive. I’ll claim all of her, and it’s her pussy that will pay for what she’s done to this lonely mountain man.

  I shove my pants and boxers down my legs, then straighten up to full height and take off my shirt. Fully naked now, I give my cock a few more strokes, my eyes locked with hers the entire time.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I grumble.

  She glances down my body as I jerk off, drinking in her body like it’s my first time seeing her, taking in her shallow breathing, her perky tits rising and falling with each breath, her nipples pink and puckered. It’s like I’m the spark for her arousal, like every movement of my fist down my thick length brings her closer to where she may beg to be touched. Everything about her is sweet, sexy and ready for sin. Pure temptation.

  “You’re wrong,” she whispers. “I couldn’t be more sure of it.”

  Her words break any last objection I’ve been weighing in my head. I don’t even care anymore that her father—my friend and my boss—can show up with her mother at their cabin near mine. She left the safety of their cabin, snuck away in the darkness and came to my place, uninvited. Then she stripped off her clothes and crawled into my bed while I was stacking up firewood out in the backwoods. Well, trespassers will be punished by me personally.

  “You might not feel the same way after I’m done with you, little girl.”

  “That’s not possible. I told you… I only want you, Savage. There’s no—”

  I pounce onto the bed again and
cover her body with mine before she can finish what she started to say. I don’t need any more convincing. Her presence is her consent. As she lifts her head to meet my lips with hers, she parts her legs, accommodating my hips between her thighs, my cock even harder as it makes contact with the softness of her hot, drenched pussy. Fuck, knowing that she’s wet for me, wanting me, has me close to insanity. I hold most of my body weight up by one arm and slide the other to the back of her head. Gripping a fistful of her auburn locks between my fingers, I part her welcoming mouth with my tongue, anchoring her to me as I deepen the kiss and grind my erection along her folds.

  She moans into my mouth and the vibration of her muffled sounds is overpowering my will. Parting from our intense kiss, I let my mouth wander across her cheek to a spot on her neck just below her ear.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” I growl at the spot, grinding against her pussy some more. “So sweet. I’m going to taste all of you. Then I’ll sink inside of you and fuck you… over, and over, and over again until I’m the only man you think of when you close your eyes.”

  “Oh god… yes,” she whimpers. “You’re all I can think about.”

  “What about that prick who touched you?” I can’t believe I’m asking about that little fucker. He can’t hold a candle to me, but fuck, the thought that she spent even a minute with him makes my vision go red. My blood boils from pure jealousy, even after Jane has said nothing happened between them. Not that I have any right to her before now. I still don’t, while her father is in the dark. Hell, I don’t have any right being with her at all, but that won’t stop me from wanting to own her.

  She’s mine.

  Mine.

  “You mean J—” she starts, but I cover her mouth and shake my head before she can say his name. I don’t want to hear any name on her lips except my own. I nod slightly and relax my hand from its spot over her mouth. She adds, “I’m not interested in him. Not even a little bit. You’re the only man for me.”