Page 10 of Comforted By The Mountain Man (Eden Ridge: Hunter Brothers #1)

SIERRA

I s this what normal people who date feel? This nervous, giddy energy pulsating through one’s nerves? You don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or jump around like an idiot. I haven’t had a first kiss since Oscar when I had just turned nineteen.

Even then, the actual kiss doesn’t compare to an almost kiss with Asher Hunter.

I’m terrified, but also, too damn addicted to this feeling to let my fears sabotage me further.

We leave Rossetti’s, my stomach so full from the most decadent meal I’ve ever had, and drive to pick up the little Ryder and I came with.

Asher and I work seamlessly, packing, taking things to his truck, and all the while, literal electricity buzzes every time we’re near.

No matter how far apart the other is, it’s like a magnetic string ties us together.

I can feel him everywhere.

We still have a few hours before Grace drops Ryder off. Asher texts her to bring him to his place instead. Driving further up the mountain, we park in front of Asher’s stunning two-story cabin.

Neat rows of wooden logs make up the walls outside, with black-stained framing that transitions to the roof.

Lots of large windows framed in black trim.

Huge concrete slabs pile in abstract shapes, bracketing the path outside with hints of mossy green and tiny white buds.

He even has planter boxes filled with green plants at the upstairs windows.

How is this place for real? How is this a man’s home?

“You built this?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“Um,” he rubs the back of his neck. “Beckett and Grayson helped. Took us eight months to finalize everything.”

He’s actually nervous.

I look up at his boyish expression and smile. “This place is beautiful. Looks like a real home.”

His eyes bounce around my face, settling on my lips. “Welcome home,” he rasps.

“Temporarily,” I whisper, out of breath, wanting to finally feel his mouth pressed to mine.

“Of course,” he amends, clearing his throat. “Let’s get you settled.”

In the same vein as before, we work effortlessly, taking Ryder’s and my stuff inside. There’s a master—his room—on the first floor and two extra bedrooms upstairs. Add to that his alcove for his office downstairs and a finished attic that’s a common area for anything you want it to be.

“We can set up a play area in that corner by the window for Ryder,” he offers.

My chest grows taut as tears fill my eyes. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of for my little boy since I first felt him kick in my pregnant belly. A home. A place of safety, peace, and laughter.

All I can manage is a nod, my throat too tight to speak.

Asher allows me my moment and steers me back downstairs. I kept offering to share a room with Ryder. I’m used to it, but Asher insisted on us both having our own space.

“Back here,” Asher shows me a utility room by the back doors, “is the washer and dryer. Use whatever you guys need. This is your home for now.”

I stare at the luxuries I’ve only ever seen in movies, worried I’ll get too used to this and not know how to go back to living the way we always have.

“Hey,” his gentle voice coaxes. He takes my hand and pulls my body closer to his. “What’s going through that head of yours, Brown Eyes?”

“How are you going to get rid of me once I get used to all this?” I laugh to make light of my truth.

Staring intently, his other hand meets my waist, tugging me against his strong frame. “You should be worried about the other way around,” his voice softly rumbles.

“This feels like a dream,” I whisper so quietly, I almost hope he doesn’t hear it.

“You do feel like a dream.” The hand holding mine lets go and slides around my neck, tangling into my hair. “One I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance of experiencing.”

My body becomes aware of every inch touching his. Something awakens. I almost doubted I was capable of feeling passion and desire. My core swells and pulses a low heat. My breasts tighten, wanting attention they’ve never received.

Asher’s green eyes darken as his hand grips my hair. Not painfully, but in a way that sends pinpricks rushing down my body.

“I’m going to kiss you, Sierra,” he practically growls.

“Please,” is all I manage to say before his mouth finally kisses mine.

I feared I would be awkward, not remembering how to kiss someone, but I should’ve known. Asher is a man who doesn’t dominate in a way that pushes you down but leads, taking my mouth sensually but letting me explore, indulge in the feel of his soft lips tasting mine.

We fit perfectly.

The tip of his tongue tests the seam of my mouth and the sensation pulls a gasp that lets him in. And, oh man. The moment my tongue reaches out to touch his, a fire ignites.

The hand at my waist wraps around my back, holding me tightly. The one at my neck digs deeper into my hair, pulling up to cradle the back of my head. My hands have minds of their own because boldness strikes and both find heated, smooth skin under his shirt.

The moment I touch his bare back, a deep groan vibrates from his chest to mine. My fingernails tease up his back, familiarizing myself with the contours and dips of strong muscle.

Asher’s control snaps.

Picking me up, he sets my ass down on the washing machine, stepping into my parted thighs and pulling my lower half to the edge so I’m lined up perfectly with the hard ridge that’s fighting against his jeans.

Reason, doubts, and insecurities all fly out of the window. In this moment, I want this man and I’m taking what I want.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I dig my heel into his backside, bringing him even tighter against me.

I whimper at the feel of his hardness digging right at my clit through my leggings.

The material, so thin, I use the abrasive texture of his jeans to rub against, needing to chase this delicious promise of release.

“Fuck, Brown Eyes. Tell me what you need,” he demands against my mouth.

I dip my hand into the back of his jeans, bypassing his briefs and finding the curve of his muscular ass.

“I want you,” I pant into his mouth. “Inside me. I want to feel everything.”

His hands both dive into my leggings and underwear, then grip my bare ass cheeks firmly. Using his hold, he rubs my body against his still clothed hardened cock. I want to be skin to skin with him. I need it.

Asher’s open mouth rakes against my neck before biting the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. “Are you sure?” he rasps. “We don’t have to rush this. I can just make you come, beautiful.”

Fisting his short hair, I hold him against my neck. “Please,” I moan, digging my hand deeper into his pants, letting my nails scrape his skin.

His hips jerk, pressing him into my clit harder and I cry out. Oh, my God. I’m going to come just like this.

Pulling back, his breath races out of his mouth. Asher takes my face in his hands. Gaining some semblance of control, he asks again, “Are you sure? Once we do this, I don’t see myself letting us go. I want this. I want you. Your body, your heart. I care deeply about both of you.”

Unless you’re a mother, him bringing Ryder up in this moment might seem like a mood killer, but let me tell you, it’s the complete opposite.

This man could take my body and use it and move on.

But he’s looking at me, in my eyes, and giving me a piece of his heart.

In turn, he’s inviting my son to have a piece as well.

I almost say it. My lips almost form the three words.

I don’t know why I would. We barely know each other. It’s just wild lust driving these emotions. Right?

I promised to try. And I want to. Not just this moment. I want all the ones to come.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Asher Hunter, I’m so sure. I want you. This. Us,” I almost choke with tears.

His lips descend and this kiss is slower, deeper, stamping words over my heart. Wrapped tightly around each other, Asher lifts me and guides us outside the laundry room. I’m lost in our kiss but eventually, I feel my back hit a soft mattress.

Opening my eyes, we’re in Asher’s room. Pulling away, he drags his hands down my body, hooking into my leggings. He waits for my signal. At my nod, Asher slowly takes both my leggings and underwear completely off.

The air hitting my wet center makes me gasp. My knees close, feeling exposed. I haven’t let another man see me naked in years. Asher reaches back and pulls his shirt off and I’m brought back to that first night.

His bare chest and low-set jeans exposes that dangerous sculpted V at his hips. Feeling brave, also remembering he’s already seen me naked, I sit up and take my shirt off, leaving me in just a lace bralette.

Unbuttoning his jeans, he takes them and his black briefs off. I suck in a sharp breath at my first look at his gorgeous cock. It’s long, thick, standing straight, tilted toward me with a strong vein pulsing down the side. Oh, my. I’ve never found them to be anything but gross before.

Clearly, I hadn’t come across the right one.

At my staring, a bead of precome drools from the tip and the insane urge to lick it up takes over. I’m actually leaning forward without thinking.

“Fuck, Brown Eyes, don’t—,” he starts, but it’s too late.

I scoot down the bed, line my mouth up with my prize, and lick his velvet smooth shaft. The salty taste that’s all Asher is becoming my new favorite thing. I’d never done this before. I’m so grateful that he’s my first. I give him my eyes as I wrap my lips around the tip and suck.

He cries out, jerking his hips. Asher’s hand fists my hair, and that sends shock waves down my back and straight to my dripping pussy.

His other hand reaches around my back and unsnaps the bralette so that now, we’re both fully naked. He caresses around my skin to the front, grabbing my breast, massaging it until his fingers find my hardened nipple and plays with it.

Whimpering, I take more of his cock into my mouth until he’s hitting the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” he chokes, pulling me off him and taking my body back onto the mattress.