Page 11 of Don’t Make Me Fall (Mountain Men of Cinnamon Creek #1)

Chapter Eleven

Alanna

I wake, wrapped up in a strong, sexy mountain man who claimed me for his own all night long. The bedroom smells of him—all pine, campfire, and cinnamon.

I could get used to this.

I want to get used to this.

For the first time in longer than I remember, I’m genuinely excited for my future. I’m lying naked with a man who truly sees me for me. A real man who wants to claim me for me. Not some pathetic excuse of a man who manipulates women’s emotions for his own personal gain.

After last night, I’m more certain than ever that I never actually loved Tyler.

Until Hudson, I didn’t have a clue what real love was.

My heartrate triples at the thought.

Am I in love with him?

Is that even possible?

God, I need to talk to Erin. She’ll help me sort all this out.

I slip out of bed while Hudson softly snores. I’m a little jealous of his ability to sleep like the dead. I grab one of his T-shirts from a pile of clean laundry and pull it over my head. I love how the fabric feels against my nipples.

Glancing back toward Hudson, I’m tempted to wake him up in a way I know he’ll enjoy. But first, I have some business to attend to.

I’m turning in my resignation letter today.

Right after a strong cup of coffee.

Minutes later, the kitchen fills with the delightful aroma of freshly brewed coffee—something local I found on Hudson’s counter.

I’m just pouring my first cup when I feel him come up behind me. I don’t know how the man who’s built like a brick house made it all the way down the hall without me hearing a single footstep.

But I don’t care.

I abandon my freshly poured cup to melt into Hudson, my back to his front.

His hard length presses into my back, and I yearn to yank the loose sweatpants off of him.

“Making coffee without me?”

“I was going to share.”

“Sure you were.”

“Not my fault you sleep like the dead,” I tease.

“I never have,” he says the words into my neck, kissing me there. “Until you.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You bring me peace.”

“You haven’t had peace?”

“Not since the military.”

I turn around to face him, cupping his bearded cheeks with both hands and pulling him down for a soft, sensual kiss. This between us, this is right.

He fists the edge of the T-shirt of his I’m wearing. “You look good in this.”

“Yeah?”

“You look even better out of it.” He tugs it over my head, tossing it aside, and I’m naked once more.

Before I can reach for the string on his gray sweatpants, he kneels in front of me. I lean back against the counter, allowing him to lift one of my legs onto his shoulder. I watch in rapture as he kisses a trail up my inner thigh, one then the other.

When his tongue flicks my clit, I whimper.

“My favorite fucking sound,” he growls, his words vibrating against my skin.

He takes his time dragging his tongue through my folds, tasting me, savoring me. As though I’m a delectable dessert he can’t get enough of. When he looks up at me, those dark chocolate eyes are all molten lava.

His tongue gradually increases the pace, the pressure, the swirling motion.

The build up is slow, but the orgasm is hard and fast. Just like our love making.

My god this man can make me come apart so fucking hard.

My body rocks violently as pleasure ripples through me.

Hudson holds me by the back of my legs, his mouth fused to my pussy until the very last ounce of pleasure wanes.

“So sweet,” he says, licking his lips. His beard’s glossy with my juices, and dammit, it makes me want him even more.

“You need to fuck me now,” I insist.

“Oh, is that right?” he asks, lifting to his feet slowly, dropping kisses against my skin as he stands. He spends extra time with his mouth on my nipples, his beard tickling my sensitive skin.

Yeah, I could definitely get used to this.

I tug on the string at his waist, and his sweatpants begin to fall. The waistband snags on his fully hard cock, and I eagerly assist. I’m tempted to drop to my knees and take him into my mouth. But before I can execute my plan, he spins me around and spreads my legs.

He’s rough, just the way I like it.

I grip the counter as he pummels into me. Each hard thrust lifts me to the tip of my toes.

He reaches around to my clit, fingering it without mercy.

A second orgasm hits me so suddenly I nearly go blind.

I cry out his name as I come apart again.

He was absolutely right last night in the hallway. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s made me come since we started this sex-a-thon.

My knuckles turn white as my grip on the edge of the kitchen counter tightens.

He rails into my pussy over and over, until finally, he stills.

I feel his release, and I sigh. Not because I’m relieved this round is over, but because Hudson coming inside me feels like home. It’s a content sort of sigh.

Yeah, I’m totally in love with him.

“Did I get the job?” I joke as I collect his T-shirt from the floor and pull it back on over my head. My coffee’s cooled, but it’s still warm enough to enjoy.

“You’re really going to stay?” His question is understandably cautious.

“Not exactly,” I correct him. “I’m getting on a plane tomorrow—”

And then it hits me.

Erin.

Fuck.

My best friend just called off her wedding. She needs me. God knows I can’t just abandon her after her entire world imploded. Even for love. It would be impossible to support her the way she needs if I uprooted my life and moved away. The timing is complete shit.

Maybe it’s a sign.

A sign that I’m being impulsive and too willing to give up my life for a man.

Hudson runs a hand through his hair, his eyes growing distant. For the first time, the silence between us feels strained.

“Maybe I could come back in the spring?” I suggest.

“This isn’t going to work, is it?” he asks, his voice cold but also sad.

“It could—”

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” Hudson says, letting out a heavy sigh. One that sounds of finality.

“Doing what?”

“This back and forth. It’s like fucking whiplash.”

“I—”

“Can we just agree on one thing?” Hudson asks, sounding more serious than I’ve ever heard him.

“What?”

“Reid doesn’t need to know about this. Not if it’s nothing.”

Nothing.

I wasn’t irritated. Not until that fucking comment. That’s what the grumpy, pain-in-my-ass man thinks this whole this was? Nothing? Well, fine.

I collect my clothes which are still scattered around the house from last night’s sex frenzy.

My heart feels a little like it’s cracking right in two, probably at the hands of that fucking axe he was wielding when I showed up.

He’s not the only one experiencing that whiplash.

I get he’s frustrated, but dammit, I am too.

Still, I’ll be damned if I let him see me cry.

Which is why I cling to my anger instead.

“Have a nice life,” I say before slamming the front door behind me.