Page 10 of Mountain Man Bodyguard (Mountain Men of Pineville #4)
TEN
CHASSIE
It had been four days since I’d arrived on the mountain, and with no further threats, thanks to reports from Baz, who’d reluctantly become our messenger, I pled my case to Kane.
To say it was going over well was the understatement of the year.
I needed the authorities to hurry up and find out who this creep was so I could get back to my life.
“Okay, so explain it to me like I’m ten, why posting something on your TikTok or Instagram is so damn important even while there’s someone out there that wants to do you harm?” Kane’s eyes flashed and his nostrils flared. It was kinda hot.
But maybe poking him when he was pissed wasn’t my best plan.
But I pissed too. And maybe I hadn’t done a very good job of explaining my why.
Why posting was so important. Why this was more than a job to me.
Why some kook wasn’t going to stop me from doing the work that filled my cup to overflowing, dammit.
Okay, Chassie, take a breath. Kane is not the bad guy.
“How come I get the feeling even when you were ten, you weren’t playing with Legos or pretending you were a Marvel superhero? With all the little tidbits of information you’ve dropped about your early life, you grew up way too fast, and your childhood was anything but childlike, was it?”
“Damn, if you don’t love pushing my buttons, Chas.
When you grow up without a dad and your mom works two jobs, there’s little money for toys or superhero movies.
And you can set your sweet bottom back down and relax.
I really want to know. Why are your followers so important that you’d expose yourself now to this crazy person before the police can finish their job?
” His features relaxed as he spoke, concern replacing his previous frustration with me.
And wasn’t that just as hot as the scolding? Yeah, I was a goner for this man.
How was I going to convince myself he only cared about sleeping with me after that look?
Had any of the men I’d previously dated ever tried to figure me out?
I knew the answer to that instantly. And if I thought there’d been a crack in the relationship-repelling wall I’d built around my heart before, I was mistaken.
It now resembled more of a crater ready to cave in on itself at any moment.
“My followers mean the world to me, Kane. Sharing my struggles and my triumphs has done just as much good for me as it has for the thousands of women, and some of the men who love them, going through perimenopause and other women’s health issues.”
He was going to get the full meal deal even though he’d listened to my story over the last few days. “What most men don’t realize is that the medical industry as a whole is so far behind on women’s health issues it’s a wonder we haven’t revolted as a gender.”
And there were the other influencers I’d connected with. We’d become a sisterhood. Each of us checking any jealousies or pettiness at the door, promising no secret handshakes or passwords would be needed to join our club. All were welcome.
And I’d just discovered a woman who was killing it with her humor and raw honesty on everything perimenopause, menopause and more.
She’d begun a movement that looked to be a real turning point for women’s health, and I missed my daily dose of “justbeingmelani,” because right now I did not care that someone was attempting to control my choices. Whoever it was could eat dirt
I needed to connect with my followers and all the other influencers I worked with.
We needed as many women, and just as many men, in this movement with us until it became standard practice in the medical community to listen to women when they told their health care professionals something was wrong.
No matter our age. No matter if the textbooks said our symptoms or hormone levels were “normal.”
“You’re right. The male species is lucky.
But I’m not worried about the rest of your gender right now.
Just you. But I also know how frustrating it is not to be able to do something you love.
So, keep talking. I want to hear more about what this means to you.
” Kane was leaning against the headboard; arms crossed, wearing a look of “I’m listening,” on his handsome face.
“If you hadn’t already gotten lucky, too many times to count, I’d be suspicious of your motives. But I have to ask, where have you been hiding? And why hasn’t some other woman locked you up yet?”
“That’s simple. None of them were you. You are the most passionate woman, in and out of bed, I’ve ever met.
There are so many reasons why neither of us hasn’t found anyone we’d let ourselves be real with.
But I’m just damn happy we did or didn’t, as it turns out.
We just click. And not only are you gorgeous, but I love your pink hair, and the fact that you don’t have a uterus or you need to wear a hormone patch doesn’t mean you’re any less a woman in my eyes. ”
Dang it, my eyes had begun to water, and I may have sniffled a little as he spoke, but I wasn’t going to cry. Not that I didn’t want him to see me cry, but I wanted to be able to let him know how I felt about him too. But then I looked down and noticed the sheet over his lap had tented.
“Are you trying to distract me with your pretty words and hot body, so I don’t bawl all over you?”
“Is it working?” Kane chuckled.
“Maybe.”
“Then I guess I need to try harder.” Kane grabbed my waist and lifted me onto him. Instinctively, I adjusted my legs, straddled his hips, and wiggled myself against his cock. Then froze. Damn.
“Chas, what’s wrong? You look like you’re in pain. Here, lay down.” He tried to pull me back down, but I wasn’t having it. I stayed on top of him as I also managed to adjust, then rub the area that had zinged me.
“Nope. It was just a little twinge in my hip. Another one of those symptoms that doctors have overlooked for too long. I’m just glad I now know what’s causing it and that it's not, for me at least, arthritis. It’s something that happens when estrogen drops, causing pain in the hips and tendons.”
Kane ran his gaze long and hard over my face. Did he think I was just putting up with pain for him? Oh, my sexy yet misguided bodyguard still had a lot to learn about my particular symptoms of perimenopause.
“You can stop searching for whatever it is you think I’m not being truthful about. Really, I’m better. Sometimes it just takes a quick adjustment, and since I haven’t, well, done these particular activities in a while, I’m not surprised my body hasn’t protested before now.”
“Jesus, Chassie. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have done?—”
“Nope. Stop right there. I’m not a china-doll and believe me, if anything had caused me any discomfort or real pain, I would have told you.” I crossed my heart. “I promise.” He followed my movements, and his upset subsided even as his erection regained its earlier hardness. Oh, my yes, Mr. London.
“Okay, now that we have that out of the way and you’re back in the game….” His fingers, already in range, loosened their grip, and he started tickling me.
“Back in the game? Sweetheart, I was never out of the game.” Another wiggle of the eyebrows, and a sinister-like laugh followed as his hands roamed higher, reaching my rib cage, and I let loose a loud shriek.
“Kane, oh, stop. Please. No.” I gasped out as I switched between laughter and whimpering.
He’d discovered my Achilles heel. I was beyond ticklish, to the point of being a bit phobic.
I tried to think of how to get him back, but to be honest, it really wasn’t that bad.
He’d eased up quite a bit when I maybe, okay yes, I did overreact.
But really, for me, the anticipation of being tickled was almost as bad as the real thing.
“That’s not what you said half an hour ago.” He reminded me huskily and then thankfully stopped the tickling.
“Well, receiving an orgasm and being tickled are two vastly different sensations. And I prefer the first, thank you very much.”
“Yes, you do. And I appreciate the gratitude with how you prefer them.” Kane stopped the eyebrow dancing then said, “If I promise never to tickle you again, will you stay?”
“You mean like this, on top of you?” My brain was still a bit addled from that last orgasm, okay maybe the last three; the man was talented with his tongue.
Then there was my near-constant brain fog, which thankfully had cleared a bit since I’d been here.
And then suddenly I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
Rapid-fire pounding filled the cabin, and we both let out groans. “Baz,” we said in unison.
“Stay here; don’t get dressed. And if you need to stretch those hips, by all means, stretch away. I’ll listen to his update and then get rid of him.” Kane leapt from the bed, pulled on his jeans without bothering to fasten the top button. What was it about a guy doing that, anyway?
I watched him saunter. Yes, I liked that word, and he had the moves for it.
And not only did the man have a great ass, but the muscles in his back and his wide shoulders really did it for me too.
Add in the scratch marks on his skin, had I really made those?
And I was one happy woman—protected and well-tended.
“Where is she? I heard her scream.” Finn’s bellow bounced off the bare walls of the great room then traveled down the hall and through the open door of Kane’s bedroom.
I grabbed the nearest piece of clothing I could find and jammed my arms through the sleeves and buttoned the oversized shirt. Glancing down to make sure it covered the important bits, I decided it would do.
Kane’s deeper voice drowned out Finn’s, but I still heard my brother say, “I didn’t think the real threat would be you taking advantage of my sister rather than the punk ass across a fucking ocean.”