Her Obsessed Mountain Man

by Parker Grey

  Hey, a girl can dream.

  I park in the spot nearest to Grandma’s condo, grab the goodie basket from the back seat of my car, and start walking in. On the way, from the corner of my eye, I notice a motorcycle at the end of the row of cars and raise my eyebrows.

  If someone here can still ride that thing, more power to ‘em.

  In the ground next to her doorway is a bright pink plastic flamingo, but it’s been knocked over. I roll my eyes, because Grandma has told me at length about Mrs. Barnes, her next-door neighbor who she says wouldn’t know fun if it snuck up and bit her on the ass. Before I knock on the door I right the flamingo and stick it firmly in the ground, then smile at myself.

  But when I turn to the door, I realize it’s already open.

  My heart clenches.

  It’s only a few millimeters, but instinctively, I know something’s wrong. Grandma Flo wouldn’t leave her door open — Emerald Valley is safe, sure, but nowhere’s safe enough for a seventy-eight-year-old woman to leave her door open.

  Something must be wrong.

  My pulse ticks up as I push the door open, slowly, afraid of what I’ll find. Visions of Grandma Flo lying on the floor, hurt or worse, dance through my head and my breath catches in my throat.

  But there’s nothing in the living room. Nothing in the dining room, or the kitchen, and even though I’m calling out her name, increasingly frantic, there’s nothing.

  Finally, I’m at the bedroom door. My hand is shaking as I reach for it, imagining Grandma lying on the bed, unconscious, dead from a heart attack — or maybe worse.

  What if someone broke in and hurt her? I should call the police, I should…

  I push the door open.

  No Grandma. The bed is empty and made, the room in spotless order just like always. I’m relieved, but I’m still frantic. She was expecting me, and I still have a bad feeling that something has—

  Rough hands grab me from behind. I drop the basket as one slithers over my mouth before I can scream, the other locking around my waist.

  “I see you finally made it, little girl,” an ugly voice hisses in my ear. “I was starting to worry I had the wrong house.”

  It’s Viper, the guy who hit on me at the road house.

  I try to scream, but the sound is muffled in my throat. There’s no way anyone can hear me.

  “Keep trying,” he says in my ear. “But you should know that I don’t like being turned down, little girl.”

  With that he shoves me toward Grandma’s bed, pinning me down on my stomach and shoving my face into a pillow.

  I scream again, thrashing wildly as I kick, but it’s not working. He’s bigger, he’s stronger, and he’s on top of me, one hand fisted in my hair. I can barely breathe, and blackness is tunneling in from the edges of my vision.

  “That bartender’s not here to save you now, is he?” Viper says, pushing me further into the mattress.

  I lash out with one arm, praying that I connect with something, anything, but I don’t.

  Viper just laughs.

  “Relax, little girl. You might enjoy it,” he says, shoving my sweater up over my back.

  I try to scream again, but the sound is lost into the pillow. Just as Viper grabs the waistband of my jeans, ready to pull them off, there’s the sound of the front door slamming open.

  Viper stops.

  I’m still gasping for breath, feeling light-headed, and I freeze. I’m afraid that it’s more of his Iron Diablos, and that when he’s done, they’ll take turns.

  Viper grabs me, wrenches me up by my hair until I’m in front of him, upright on the edge of the bed.

  “No,” I whimper, tears streaming down my face. “No, please don’t…”

  The bedroom door slams open, and for a moment, Viper’s grip on me loosens like he’s surprised.

  I don’t hesitate. I don’t even know who just came in the door, but I drive my elbow into his midsection as hard as I possibly can.

  Viper makes a painful grunt and I try to get up, to run away, but he’s still got my hair.

  “You dumb bitch,” he growls as the shadow in the doorway closes in.

  “Let her —” the other man says.

  Everything goes black.

  Chapter Three

  Jax

  Ruby goes limp in Viper’s grip, and he tosses her aside like a rag doll. Her body flops to the floor of the bedroom, and even as I’m rushing forward, trying to grab Viper, he leaps over the bed and toward an open window.

  Then he’s through in the blink of an eye and I’m left standing there, in Ruby’s grandmother’s bedroom. I rush to the window, ready to jump out and follow him, make him pay for what he did.

  But instead, I go back to Ruby. She’s crumpled on the floor, her hair cascading around her. The sight sends fire and ice through my veins, absolute fury that someone did this to my girl, alongside terror that I might lose her before I ever really have her.

  “Ruby,” I whisper, pushing her hair away from her face. “Ruby, don’t leave me yet. I’m here.”

  As carefully as I can, I lift her onto the bed, turning her head so I can find the spot where he hit her, combing my fingers through her hair until I brush against the ugly bump. It’s bad.

  I sit next to her, take her hand, and call 911. Tersely, I give them my name, the situation, and the address. The operator wants me to stay on the line, but I hang up anyway, cupping Ruby’s face in both hands, castigating myself for not acting sooner.

  I should have put Viper down when I had the chance, in the road house.

  I should have driven faster.

  I should have driven straight through the gates instead of arguing with the guard out front.

  I should have…

  Ruby’s eyes flutter open, and I squeeze her hand tighter. When she sees me, she gasps and flinches, looking around wildly.

  “Jax?” she says, her voice a whisper. “What are you — where’s — is this Grandma’s house?”

  Despite myself, I raise her delicate hand to my lips, giving her a brief, chaste kiss. It might be the only one I ever give her.

  “You’re safe,” I tell her. “Viper’s not coming back. I’m here.”

  Her eyes still wide, one hand goes to the bump on her head, and she cringes when she finds it. Tears are leaking from her eyes, her breathing still too fast. I rub my thumb over the back of her hand as I hold it.

  “He hit me,” she says, and it’s not a question. She squeezes her eyes shut, remembering.

  “The door was open,” she whispered. “And I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t think — I mean, I thought that maybe Grandma had fallen, that she’s had a heart attack, I didn’t think there was someone…”

  Her voice trails off, her eyes looking past me and at the ceiling, replaying what happened to her.

  I’m going to kill him.

  I’m going to put an end to the Iron Diablos, make sure that none of their members ever do anything like this again.

  I’m going to see to it that every one of those fuckers gets dealt justice, that they rot in jail for a long, long time for what Viper did to Ruby.

  “The paramedics are coming, sweetheart,” I murmur, stroking her hair back out of her face. “They’ll be here in a few minutes, I called while you were—”

  A sudden banging noise from the closet startles my spine straight. Ruby jerks on the bed, gasping at the pain as she turns her head.

  “Don’t move,” I order her, standing up from her side.

  There’s another bout of banging, along with what sounds like a muffled shout. I walk around the bed quickly, toward the closet door, looking around for a weapon.

  All I can find is a glass angel figurine, but it’s surprisingly heavy when I pick it up. I heft it in my hand, finding the best grip.

  Then I take the closet doorknob in my head. I wait a beat.

  And then I swing it open all at once, angel figurine at the ready.

  But I don’t use it, because on the floor of the clos
et is an old woman in black slacks and a gray cardigan, her hands and feet bound, duct tape over her mouth. Instantly, I drop to my knees to help her as Ruby watches from the bed.

  “Grandma Flo!” she gasps.

  “I’m fine,” Ruby insists.

  I scowl at her. She’s sitting on a hospital bed, curtains separating us from the other two beds in the room, though both are empty. Since the police took her clothes, she’s wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt that are two sizes too big for her, her arms wrapped around her chest.

  “You’re not fine,” I tell her, shoving my hand through my hair, protectiveness rearing up inside me like a wild animal. “You’ve got a mild concussion and it’s nearly two o’ clock in the morning. Like hell I’m letting you drive back home.”

  Ruby still hasn’t asked what I was doing at her grandmother’s condo, so I still haven’t told her that when Viper left the road house, I followed him.

  He must have heard us talking while she ate, though, because he was there when she walked in. At one point, Ruby was telling me all about the shuffleboard tournament that Flo had placed third in — he must have known where to go after that.

  “Jax,” Ruby starts, but I put a finger over her lips.

  They’re soft and plush, warm under my rough skin. I swallow hard, and even so, for a moment I forget what I’m doing and nearly kiss her, right here in this ugly hospital.

  You don’t deserve her, I remind myself.

  “You’re in no shape to go anywhere,” I tell her.

  Ruby’s eyes darken with something I can’t name, and for a long moment, she just studies my face, her lips moving almost imperceptibly underneath my finger. It stirs something deep inside me, something feral and insatiable, but I shove the feeling back down.

  “I hate hospitals,” she says, speaking through my finger. “Don’t make me stay here. It’s awful.”

  “You’re hurt,” I say sternly, still fighting the urge to kiss her.

  “Please?”

  Her eyes are like two deep pools of water, and she’s unspeakably beautiful, even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the emergency room. I’m nearly helpless against her, ready to give her anything she wants.

  Anything except driving the dangerous mountain road at two in the morning with a concussion. Grandma Flo is fine, just a little bruised, but due to her age they’re keeping her overnight for observation at the hospital. Since her apartment is a crime scene now, Ruby can’t stay there.

  “Come home with me,” I say, surprising even myself.

  “Jax—”

  “Come home with me or stay in the hospital,” I tell her. “I’m not letting you out otherwise.”

  “You can’t just—”

  “I can, and I will,” I tell her. There’s steel in my voice, but I try to sound playful. “If you think I’m letting you get hurt again, you’re wrong.”

  Ruby sighs. She rubs her eyes with one hand, tilting her head.

  Then, at least, she smiles like she’s giving.

  “Okay,” she finally says, her voice soft. “Thanks, Jax.”

  Chapter Four

  Ruby

  I can’t believe I’m going home with a man I barely know. I can’t believe I’m lying to my dad about where I am — I live with him when I’m on break from school, and he thinks I’m in the hospital — and I can’t believe that the man I’m going home with is Jax.

  The hot bartender from my fantasies.

  The one I have dirty sex dreams about every time I stop by the road house on the way to Grandma’s house.

  The one who might have saved my life tonight.

  I have a feeling the sex dreams are only going to get dirtier.

  “Here we are,” he says from the driver’s seat, pulling me out of a half-sleep as the car comes to a stop.

  We’re deep in the forest, in front of a cozy little wooden cabin. There’s a light on inside, the front window glowing with welcome. I blink a few times, confused because for a moment I don’t remember where I am.

  “This is your house?” I ask.

  “Yup,” he says, opening the door for me and offering his hand. “Built it myself.”

  I stand from the car slowly, marveling at it. Even though I can’t see well I can tell that it’s beautifully done, the result of someone who’s good with his hands and takes the time to get things right.

  I wonder if he’s good with his hands in other ways….

  I blush, hoping Jax can’t see me in the dark.

  “I like it,” I say.

  Suddenly, without warning, Jax scoops me up in his arms. I squeal, both arms around his neck, but he’s got me safe and secure in his strong arms.

  “I can walk,” I protest.

  I think I see a glimmer of something in his dark eyes before he answers.

  “But why walk if you can be carried?” he says, taking me inside. It’s as beautiful as the outside, and he flips on light switches as he carries me toward the bedroom.

  My heart starts hammering, slow fire spreading downward through my body, making my skin tingle.

  He’s taking me into his bedroom, I think. I know it’s a weird time, but maybe when he puts me down, I’ll just kiss him, and then one thing will lead to another, and…

  All of a sudden, I’m aching with need, still in Jax’s strong arms. He puts me down on the bed gently, and for another long moment, I keep my arms twined around his neck and he bends over me, our faces almost touching.

  Slowly, his hand strokes my side, his fingers warm and rough even through my hospital-issue sweatshirt. I’m not wearing a bra or even any underwear — all of it got taken as evidence, so there’s not much between us.

  As he reaches the bottom of the shirt, his fingers skim across my bare skin for a moment, and I inhale sharply, fighting back a moan. I can feel his muscles twitch under my hands, his eyes dark and deep as they bore into mine, unknown depths inside them.

  “Jax,” I whisper, placing my hand over his, holding it there, against my skin.

  He growls but doesn’t say anything. I know that I should be afraid right now — he’s a strange man and I’m in his house, completely at his mercy — but somehow, I know that Jax is safe. He’s secure. He’d never let anything happen to me, and with that knowledge, I arch my back up off the bed, desperate for his touch.

  “Get some rest,” he whispers roughly.

  “Stay here,” I say, not letting go.

  “I’ll be here. On the couch,” he murmurs. For just a moment, his eyes slide from my face down my body, and my pulse quickens.

  “No, here,” I say. “You can’t give me the bed while you sleep on the couch.”

  Jax flexes his jaw, the muscles knotting while he watches me.

  “Ruby, I—”

  “I won’t feel safe if you’re not here,” I beg. “Please?”

  It’s not true. Even if he were in the other room, I know there’s no way he’d let anything happen to me. But I want him, need him here next to me, his big body against mine in the night.

  I know I don’t stand a chance. I know he’s just being nice — I’m a twenty-year-old college student, and he’s clearly older, wiser, and could probably get any woman he wants. But just for tonight, I want to pretend that Jax might want me.

  “Okay,” he finally says. “But any time you want me out, just the say the word.”

  “You want me to fuck you?” he growls, teeth closed around one nipple.

  “Yes,” I gasp, both my hands buried in his thick brown hair, his hard cock grazing against my thigh through his boxers.

  “Tell me,” he says, before sucking it into my mouth.

  I moan and arch my back, utterly lost to the moment. I’m completely naked and Jax is just in his boxers, splayed on his bed.

  He finds my clit with his fingers and I moan again, body shuddering.

  “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard and stretch your pretty little pussy out with my thick cock,” he says.

  He slides one big finger into my cent
er and I nearly scream.

  “I want you to fuck me,” I gasp out.

  He growls, sliding another finger into me.

  “Jesus, you’re tight,” he says, his thumb still circling my clit. “I can’t wait to feel you come from inside you, Ruby. But I’m gonna make you come like this first.”

  “Harder,” I beg, nearly senseless. “Jax, I need you.”

  “Not yet,” he says, his voice at its lowest register. “That’s right, sweetheart, come for me.”

  I’ve got one leg slung over his big, strong shoulder, and the pleasure of his fingers is making my vision blur and stretch as I whimper and moan, totally unable to form thoughts.

  But even though I’m right at the edge of orgasm, I don’t come. It feels fucking incredible, but I’m not coming, despite everything.

  “Jax,” I murmur. “Fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I want you to make me come.”

  There’s a moment where something isn’t right. Like everything is sliding sideways, but then I focus, and it goes back.

  “Sweetheart, I can’t,” he says, his fingers still working me but somehow it feels distant, like it’s happening in a memory.

  “You can,” I say, starting to plead with him. “Please, I want you to—”

  “Ruby, you’re a virgin,” he says.

  My eyes fly open, and I’m holding my breath.

  In front of me is the wooden wall of Jax’s cabin. I’m wearing sweatpants, in the bed, and I’m on my side with the covers half on and half off.

  Importantly, I am not fucking Jax. Not even a little bit, though I’m still turned on as hell, my core aching unbelievably with the dream I just had.

  I swallow hard, staring at the wall, mortified. I’ve had sex dreams about Jax before, but that one was way more detailed than usual, so realistic that I could have sworn it was real.

  That’s also the dirtiest sex dream I’ve ever had about him. Apparently my subconscious has only gotten filthier with time, and I can’t say I’m disappointed. It’s not like I’ll ever be getting there in real life, so why not dream about it?