Page 8 of Claimed By The Mountain Man

Her eyes drift to the bed, and her cheeks flush pink. I would give anything to know what she’s thinking about right now. Is she imagining the two of us, naked and tangled up in the sheets like I am?

I clear my throat, reaching down to adjust myself discreetly.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“Let me grab you a shirt,” I say, crossing to the dresser and pulling out a plain black T-shirt from the drawer. “Or you can help yourself to whatever. There’s stuff in the dresser and the closet.”

“Thanks.” She takes the shirt.

I tip my head toward the bathroom. “Shower is through there. I’m going to look at your car, make sure there isn’t a tracker or anything on it. Then I’ll get started on dinner. You can meet me downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

She nods, giving me a faint smile. “Thanks, Carter.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I tell her honestly.

I back out of the room and pause, waiting until I hear the shower turn on before I jog down the stairs. I’m almost to the door when Scout calls my name.

“Hey, Carter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you help me get out of this stupid dress? I think the zipper is jammed or something.”

My heart races at the thought of peeling my girl out of a wedding dress. My cock is stiff and aching in my jeans, and I close my eyes, praying for strength as I turn and jog back upstairs.

“Let’s see what’s going on,” I say, trying to sound calm and in control as I step into the steamy bathroom with Scout.

The wedding dress poofs out around her as she turns, showing me the zipper in the back, which is caught in some of the tulle.

I frown as I try to wiggle it down. “Uh, I might have to tear it.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t pick it out. Do what you have to.”

I grip the fabric on either side of the zipper. With one hard tug, I rip the dress, the fabric shredding away from the zipper and tearing down to her waist. My eyes greedily drink in all of her exposed skin. I shake my head, clearing my throat as I turn around to give her some privacy.

“How’s that?” My voice sounds deep and needy even to me.

“I think it’s good now. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

I force myself to walk out of the bathroom before I do something stupid like confess my undying love to the woman I met half an hour ago. It would be true, but I doubt she would believe me. Not yet, anyway.

I head out to the garage and give her car a thorough once-over. I’m relieved not to find a tracker or anything else and go back inside to make dinner.

Scout comes downstairs as I’m plating the food. I almost swallow my tongue when I see her in my shirt. The fabric hits her mid-thigh, and my cock fights against my zipper as I stare at her.

“It smells good,” she says, smiling at me as she climbs up onto one of the barstools.

I catch a flash of her inner thigh and almost come in my pants.

Goddamn, she’s perfection.

“Thanks,” I mumble, setting a plate down in front of her.

I take a minute to get my body under control before joining her at the counter. Scout grabs her fork and digs in, scooping up some of the rice and chicken. I watch as her full red lips wrap around the fork, and when she moans, I bite down on my cheek and look away.

Fuck, I’m seconds away from coming in my fucking boxers like a teenager or pinning her to the nearest surface and making her moan with my hands, mouth, and cock until she’s hoarse.