Page 4 of Her Mountain Boss (Honey Ridge #3)

Two

Ford

Christ.

I stomp back to the main lodge, gravel flying, twigs snapping as I try to put as much distance between me and my step-niece as I can.

The crisp autumn air does nothing to cool the blood pumping through my veins, hot and fast. Fucking hell, I was expecting some kid.

A dorky, awkward intern looking to pad her resume. Not…her.

Sophia.

I rub the back of my neck, trying to erase the tension stiffening the muscles there. The image of her is burned into my mind. I couldn’t stop staring, and I know she noticed. She probably thinks I’m some degenerate pervert.

But Christ. Those warm hazel eyes, wide and expressive behind her glasses.

The mass of auburn curls piled on top of her head in a messy bun, begging for my fingers.

And her body…fuck me, her body. My step-niece (I keep repeating who she is to myself, hoping it’ll help me cool the hell down.

It hasn’t worked yet.) is all curves, soft and inviting.

She’s got this tiny waist that flares out to gorgeous hips.

Perfect breasts that would probably just fill my hands.

She’s not a kid. She’s a woman. A young woman, but a woman all the same.

And she’s my goddamn fucking step-niece.

I growl low in my throat, frustration pushing up inside my chest. I should’ve known better than to agree to this.

But how could I have anticipated…this? Whatever the fuck this is?

I feel like I’ve lost my mind. Like I’m an unmoored ship and Sophia’s a storm that blew in unexpectedly, sending me reeling. Capsizing under the gale force of her.

I can honestly say that in all of my fifty years, I’ve never reacted to a woman the way I reacted to Sophia. I’ve never experienced an attraction so instant, so visceral. So intense and consuming.

You’re not some horny teenager , I remind myself, my jaw tight. I’m a grown man. A man who’s seen and done enough in life to know better than to lust after a woman half his age. A woman he’s technically related to.

Fuck me.

There’s something about her. I’m like a moth to a flame.

God, that smile. The way it lights up her entire face.

She’s radiant. She’s genuine. She’s like spring sunshine after a long winter.

And the way she bites her bottom lip when she’s nervous, or thinking.

The dusting of freckles across her nose. She’s cute as hell.

And her scent…like vanilla and cinnamon. She’s sweet and spicy all at once. I could get drunk on the smell of her.

Good fucking lord. It’s official. I’ve lost my mind. That’s the only explanation for…this. All of this.

I seal myself away in my office and pour myself a cup of coffee from the battered thermos on my desk. It’s hot and bitter, and I hope it’ll chase away thoughts of cinnamon and sweetness and perfect breasts and sunshine smiles.

It doesn’t.

I stare out the window, watching leaves flutter idly down from the trees, but I’m not seeing them. Not really. All I can see is Sophia. All I can feel is that brushing touch of her hand against mine that made me want to haul her against me and kiss her until we both forgot our names.

Or the fact that we’re related.

“Fuck,” I groan, blinking hard several times.

What I need to do is forget the past hour ever happened. I need to not look at her that way again. She’s too young. Too close to my family. Too…everything.

Too perfect.

But fuck me, the curve of her ass in those skintight leggings…it’s like it’s seared into my retinas. I can’t unsee it. I can’t stop the image from replaying through my brain, over and over. I can’t stop thinking about all of the filthy things I’d like to do to my little step-niece.

Things like peel her leggings off so I can grip that ass, feel it yield under my fingers, watch the flesh pale from my grip and then flush pink again.

Things like spread her wide so I can see her pussy, glistening and ready for me.

I’d give anything to taste her, to bury my face between her creamy thighs, to feel her writhe against my mouth.

What would she do if I slid my tongue inside her tight little hole?

Would she scream my name? How many times could I make her come with my mouth?

I’d wait until she was a boneless mess before sinking my aching cock into her.

I bet she’d be so tight. So tight and hot around me.

I’d go slow at first, watching her take every inch of me.

And then I’d ride her hard. Hard enough to make her tits bounce, hard enough to make that pussy gush around me.

I’d make her come so hard that she’d milk the cum right out of me.

And then I’d flip her over and start all over again, fucking her slow and deep from behind, watching her ass ripple and bounce against my hips.

I’d pet her clit as I fuck her, making her come again and again until she couldn’t take anymore.

And then I’d fill her with more cum. I’d fill her with so much cum that there’d be no mistaking who she belongs to.

God, the things I want to do to her. Things I haven’t even let myself think about in years. Dark, filthy things that I have no business thinking about. Things that would make her blush, make her gasp, make her beg for more.

“What is wrong with me?” I say out loud, pressing my palms into my eyes, as if that could somehow dislodge the image of her.

“She’s here to learn. Work. She’s Derrick’s stepdaughter, for fuck’s sake.

This is my business, built on my reputation.

I’m too old to be thinking with my dick. ” That’s good. It’ll be my new mantra.

None of that can ever happen. She’s too young for me. Too sort of related. Besides. There’s no way in hell a sweet, young thing like her would be interested in an old bastard like me.

I grunt, reaching down and adjusting my cock in my jeans.

I’d managed to keep control of myself while showing her the cabin, but now I’m hard as fucking concrete.

Goddamn, but this is going to be a long three months.

A long, torturous three months. But I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’ll keep my filthy thoughts to myself.

I’ll keep my distance, as much as I can. I don’t have any other choice. Because the alternative, giving in to what I want so badly my mouth is watering and my heart is pounding just thinking about it…well, it’s unthinkable, plain and simple.

And I refuse to go down that road.

No matter how much I might want to.

* * *

I’m going to hell. I can’t seem to stop following my pretty little step-niece around like a fucking puppy dog as she learns the ropes.

I’m trying to keep my distance, but I can’t seem to stay away from her.

After the first day, I tell myself that it’s because she’s working here.

It’s only natural for me to be where she is.

But that’s not true. It’s that I feel restless if I don’t have eyes on her, even if it’s from a distance. Even if she can’t see me. And the more I watch her, the more I want her. The more I struggle to stay away, even though I know I have to.

I can’t deny how thrilled I am at how effortlessly she’s slid into her role here at the lodge.

She’s friendly and hardworking, and a fast learner.

She’s smart and observant, and gets along with everyone.

She takes initiative, tackling things without being asked.

I like having her here. A lot. Too much.

This morning, I’m hanging around the lobby, sipping my coffee, pretending not to watch her zip through our reservation software like a seasoned pro. I sneak glances at her when she’s not looking. I hover. And then she frowns at the screen, looking uncertain.

I can’t stop myself from slipping behind the desk. “Need some help?” I ask, my skin feeling tight, like I’m about to burst out of my body. Her hair is down today, auburn curls cascading around her shoulders.

“No, I think I’ve got it,” she says, shooting me a smile. I start to say something, but she’s typing away.

“The software can be tricky when it—”

“Duplicates the guest record if you try to pull in the payment profile before assigning the room, yeah.”

Oh. She already knows.

“Did you need something?” she asks, still focused on the screen.

Yes. You. The thought is a hungry growl that echoes through my skull, and it rattles me enough to have me stepping out from behind the counter. “No,” I say gruffly, and walk away, feeling like a complete idiot. I need to find a way to stop mooning over my step-niece. Now.

I start to head for the door, deciding I’ll go find somewhere else to be when I hear the most gorgeous, delicate sound from behind me.

Sophia’s laughing, the sound bright and glittering.

I stop and turn to find her looking at Carter, another employee.

He’s around her age, maybe a year or two older, and has worked here for the past two years in guest services.

He leans in and says something, making Sophia laugh again.

Before I can stop myself, I turn fully, hands planted on my hips. “Carter!” I bark. He jumps and turns to look at me. “Don’t you have something to do? Quit bothering Sophia.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, looking chagrined. He turns quickly and disappears into the guest services office. Sophia glances up at me, her eyes meeting mine, and I swear the air shimmers with heat.

I grunt and stomp out the front door.