Page 4 of Ferocious Mountain Man (Seduction Summit Trails #6)

RAFE

W as it hot in here, or was it just me?

I kicked off the covers and stared up at the ceiling. I’d been fooling myself if I thought I could go to sleep after thirty minutes of hauling Sahara’s stuff and getting it all set up.

We’d introduced ourselves at some point during the process. I gave her my first and last name, hoping she’d do the same. I only had her first name, and I had no idea why that wasn’t enough.

Actually, I did know why. I was getting attached.

And that was why I was lying here, staring up at the ceiling instead of sleeping.

It had nothing to do with the endorphins still flowing through my body from the physical activity.

No, this was all mental. Any endorphins were the undeniable buzz of my attraction to her.

With a groan, I finally threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood. So much for sleep. At least it was a Saturday night, so I could sleep in—if I could ever get her out of my mind.

Maybe a cold shower was what I needed. Or maybe I should grab a box of tissues, get back in that bed, and take care of things myself. It wouldn’t take long, and it would probably relax me.

I was heading for the bathroom in search of what I’d need for a good jerk-off session when a scream pierced the silence that surrounded me. A female scream. There was only one person who could be making that noise this time of night.

I bolted to the door, not even bothering to throw on clothes, and rushed across the massive distance between us. She was farther than a football field away. Because of the trees, it took most of that distance to catch a glimpse of her tent.

I had no idea what I expected to see, but a closed, still tent brought a sigh of relief between quick breaths. So it was probably just a nightmare. Or maybe she found a bug in her tent. She seemed like a strong, courageous person, but I’d seen some pretty tough soldiers freak out over a cockroach.

My footsteps slowed as I neared the tent. I never took my eyes off it. I winced at the noise I was making, even though I wasn’t sure why I was concerned. Maybe I felt a little like I was sneaking a peek.

But that brought me to my next question. Did I just unzip the tent flap and see what was going on? Or was I supposed to do some sort of canvas-based version of knocking?

“Sahara?” I called out.

“Rafe, is that you?”

In those last three words, her shaky voice gave away her fear. She might have seen a bug, but that sounded like something else. Besides, if it had been a bug, she probably would’ve been outside the tent. The flap would be open, if only to evict the insect that had broken in.

“It’s me,” I said. “Is everything okay in there?”

“Someone was outside my tent. Or something.”

That was all I needed to hear. I immediately kicked into protector mode. And that was when I became aware that I wore nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs. I just hoped the massive bulge from a few minutes ago was gone. If not, it would be gone soon enough.

I saw absolutely nothing around the tent. Nowhere near it. Not a sign of anything. I even headed into the woods, barefoot and mostly naked. Nothing came of that but sore feet.

By the time I returned to Sahara’s tent, I expected to find her waiting outside. But no sign of her—just the tent. I hoped like hell she was still inside it.

“You okay in there?” I called out once I was closer.

I scanned the area, prepared to spring into gear if I saw anything the slightest bit out of order. No sign of her…or anyone else.

“I’m in here,” she said. “Did you find anything?”

I rounded the tent and knelt in front of the opening, pulling up the flap so I could see inside. But I stopped myself from lifting it farther just as I started to get a glimpse.

She might be scared, but I couldn’t invade her privacy. She could be naked in there.

That brought the bulge back. So much for getting rid of it.

I had only one question. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” she said. “Can you come in, please?”

I’d be excited at the request, but her voice was still shaky and forced. I wanted to wrap my arms around her until she felt safe, but I was in my underwear, and I may or may not have an erection. I was scared to look.

So I knelt and lifted the flap, peering inside. She sat on her sleeping bag, wearing a T-shirt and what looked like nothing else, although she could’ve had short-shorts on. I couldn’t tell, the way her legs were tucked in front of her, arms around them.

Her hair fell in waves around her face. A few tendrils covered her right cheek. It was the sexiest sight I’d ever seen. And I was supposed to be getting my libido under control. Shit.

“You okay in there?” I asked.

My voice sounded strangled too—or maybe it was just my imagination. My throat definitely felt closed up. My heart was pounding. My stomach was doing flip-flops too.

I did not like seeing her like this. In fact, the reaction it brought out of me surprised me. I prided myself on not getting emotionally connected to anyone. Not since childhood. I was a loner in the true sense of the word.

So, what was it about this woman? What was she bringing out in me? I wasn’t sure. It was all so unfamiliar. I was basically a spectator, trying to figure out what was going on inside me. It was as much a mystery to me as it would have been to anyone else.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I just need a few minutes. Maybe you could tuck me in.”

She smiled, but it was a tentative smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Yeah, she was seriously spooked.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

She hesitated, then finally said, “Do you think it’ll come back?”

“What?”

“The raccoon or squirrel or whatever it is.”

“It might, but I don’t think it’ll hurt you.” I looked down. “I’m in my underwear.”

The bulge wasn’t all that noticeable from this angle. Hopefully, things had calmed down enough that she wouldn’t think I was some sort of pervert if she noticed it.

“That’s fine,” she said. “I guess I woke you up. I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Should I have given that away? I’d just admitted that she had me tossing and turning.

No, she wouldn’t make that connection. Still, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it. The last thing I’d want was for a woman to know she was getting to me—even if she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“Yeah, I was having a tough time sleeping too,” she said. “It’s almost like we did a thirty-minute round of cardio before saying goodnight.”

Fuck. Was this woman deliberately trying to do this to me?

I ducked my head and pushed my way through the tent opening. Now I was in an awkward crouch, trying to figure out how to position myself in a structure that wasn’t nearly big enough to accommodate my six-foot-five frame.

So I plopped down on the ground, feet in front of me, knees bent, and tried not to think about what kind of cardio we could have done that would’ve kept us up all night. It wasn’t the kind that involved erecting a tent. No, it was another kind of cardio, and it brought a different type of erection.

“Anyway, I closed my eyes, and I swear I’d just drifted off to sleep when…swish, swish, swish,” Sahara said.

My eyes popped open just in time to catch her looking at the wall. I couldn’t stop staring at her.

“This was moving.” she said, pointing to her right. “When I screamed, it stopped.”

“I’m sure it was just an animal of some kind. Maybe a raccoon or squirrel or something.”

I wasn’t going to let her believe a bear had been messing with her tent, even if that was a firm possibility. She’d probably never sleep outdoors again…or anywhere else.

“I don’t think it’ll hurt you,” I said.

“I shouldn’t have done this,” she whispered. “Any of this. I should be at home. In bed.”

That brought an important question to mind. “Where’s home?”

I didn’t want to think about her regrets. If she’d never come here, she wouldn’t have met me. Correction— I wouldn’t have met her . She might not be bothered by that thought at all. It didn’t seem like this attraction was one-sided, but it very well could be.

“Savannah,” she said. “Georgia. Born and raised. I’ve never lived anywhere else. I even went to college there.”

“So, you went to school to be a social media influencer?”

Did that sound dismissive of her goal? Maybe she had a full-time job and this was on the side.

“I went to art school.” Then she laughed. “I guess I thought I was going to be the exception to the rule.”

“What rule is that?”

“That you can’t really make a living as an artist. Not in the fine arts, anyway. Most of my friends translated their skills into graphic design—logos for businesses, signs, websites…that sort of thing.”

“And you didn’t?”

She shook her head. “I’m not as good with computers as I should be.” She laughed again. “I guess I’m not really sure what I want to be when I grow up. But for now, I’m doing a lot of freelance stuff.”

That made sense. But I was surprised to find that what I cared about most was that if she was freelance, she could work anywhere. That was what I assumed, anyway.

“Would you ever leave Savannah to live in a beautiful mountain town like this one?”

I flashed an awkward smile at the end of that question. Confusion flickered across her face. It was brief—just a slight lowering of her brows and a downward twitch of her mouth.

“Absolutely,” she said. “Savannah’s beachfront property. It’s beautiful, but not my kind of thing. I’d love to live somewhere scenic like this. It’s just so expensive.”

“Not up here.”

Was this a sales pitch? Why was I trying to convince this woman to move here?

The answer to that was simple, but I didn’t really want to face it. I wanted her here. The thought of her leaving town—today, tomorrow, or any other day after that—filled me with dread. Would I have to go the rest of my life wondering what might’ve happened if only…?

She narrowed her eyes at me. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me to stay in Seduction Summit.”

There was a flirtatiousness in the way she said that, but her words hit close to home. So I asked, “What if I am?”

She just stared at me. No expression. I stared back, not sure what to make of any of this. I wanted to believe she was serious. But what if she was? What was my plan, exactly?

“I’d definitely move for the right guy,” she said. “But it would have to be more than just physical attraction.”

Two could play at this flirtation game. “Are you saying you’re physically attracted to me?”

“I am,” she said. “And that’s weird for me.”

Okay, now I really had to know what she meant. “Why is it weird for you?”

“I’ve never felt this kind of…electricity before. Is it one-sided?”

Hell, no. But I was still puzzling over why she wouldn’t have felt it before. Did that mean all the guys she’d dated were meh? No, that wasn’t the case for me, and even I could say that I’d never felt anything like this before.

“It’s not one-sided,” I said.

“What happens next?”

Now I was staring at her. The tent created a sort of cocoon, shutting us off from the world outside.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“When you’re…you know, sexually attracted to someone. What happens next?”

I frowned. I didn’t get it. Not at all. She couldn’t possibly be asking what happened when a man and a woman got together.

“I guess I should just spit it out,” she said. “I’m a virgin.”

And then, as I tried to process those words, the tent started shaking again. Something was outside.