Page 5 of Mountain Man Obsessed (Hard Timber Mountain Men #3)

HARLAN

Fuck, she was stubborn. And clearly way out of her league and in over her head.

But none of that stopped Jessa when she thought she had a chance to prove me wrong.

I’d stood by while she googled lists of what to take on a camping trip.

Hadn’t said a word when she packed the bed of her dad’s old truck with three times the crap she’d need for a two-night trip.

But as much as I was looking forward to seeing her slink back into town after not being able to set up the damn tent, I didn’t want her to get hurt.

That was why I’d left Bubbles with Dane and begged Thatcher and Joely to cover the store for me this weekend.

I’d made up an excuse about having to head to Bozeman to pick up some stuff for the damn adventure weekend so no one would think I was checking up on Jessa.

If her brothers knew I was following her up the mountain to spy on her all weekend, they’d kill me.

I had to hand it to Jessa, though. For someone who hadn’t been back to Hard Timber in years and had zero experience on the rugged trails, she’d picked a hell of a place to camp.

Bane’s Lookout had the best views of the mountains and the valley below but was the most remote.

She’d had to park at the end of the road and hike at least three miles to her site.

With no running water, no electrical hookups, and no modern facilities, she was all on her own.

The hiking was slow going since she hadn’t broken in her boots first and was trying to carry a pack that probably weighed almost as much as she did. I wasn’t worried that she’d catch me following her. I’d grown up hiking these trails and knew how to move through the woods without making a sound.

I kept waiting for her to give up and turn around, but she pressed on. By the time she got to her site, the sun hung low in the sky, and the stars had already started to appear.

A half circle of huge rocks provided the perfect coverage to keep an eye on her without being discovered.

I waited impatiently while she read the directions on how to set up the tent.

If she didn’t get moving, she wouldn’t have it done before dark.

Camping around Hard Timber was relatively safe, but she needed to get a fire going to make sure she didn’t attract any unwelcome visitors like bears or wolves.

A half hour later, with the tent finally standing somewhat upright, she scouted the area for logs and kindling to start a fire.

Anxiety swam through my belly. She should have had a fire going over an hour ago.

But instead of interfering, I watched while she set the logs down and bent to grab the hatchet she’d brought.

For one reckless second, I thought maybe she’d surprise me.

That maybe she’d sink the edge into the log like she’d been born swinging an axe.

Instead, the thing bounced, clattering off the wood and smacking her shin. She let out a hiss, dropped the hatchet, and hopped around on one foot as she clutched her leg.

“Son of a?—”

That was it. I’d seen enough. I stepped out from behind the rocks. “You’re going to chop your damn leg off before you ever get a spark going.”

She froze, her eyes going wide before they narrowed into daggers aimed straight at me. “What the hell, Harlan? Were you following me?”

“Nope,” I said, crouching to pick up the hatchet. “I was keeping an eye on you in case you needed help.”

“I don’t need rescuing.” She snatched at the handle, but I didn’t let go.

“Really? You planning to bleed out on the mountain to prove a point?” My voice came out harsh, the sight of her rubbing her shin making my gut twist.

She yanked, finally wresting the hatchet free, but her hand shook. “You don’t get to swoop in here and act like I’m some kind of damsel. I can do this. I nicked my shin. It’s not like I cut off my leg.”

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine.”

“Jessa.” I dragged her name out, daring her to refuse me.

She huffed, but she rolled up her pant leg.

The scrape had already beaded with bright blood, with a bruise blooming underneath.

Nothing serious, but it stung to know she’d hurt herself while I stood by and didn’t do a damn thing.

I fished a small first-aid kit from my pack, tore open a wipe, and cleaned the cut.

“Ouch, that stings.” She flinched, then glared at me like I’d caused the mountain to bite her. “Sadist.”

“Hold still.”

I wrapped a narrow bandage around her leg, my fingers brushing bare skin. Heat shot up my arm like I’d grabbed a live wire. She must have felt it too because her breathing changed to a slow inhale and an even slower exhale. When I glanced up, she was staring at my mouth.

Warning bells rang through my thick head. This was dangerous. All of it.

I should have walked away. Let her keep fighting the tent poles and kindling until she gave up and went home. But when the breeze lifted her hair and I caught the stubborn tilt of her chin, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

I pulled back, snapped the kit closed, and got to work like a man trying to outrun his own demons.

I split the kindling the right way, set the logs in the fire pit, and hit the pile with a spark.

When the fire caught, she threw me a look that said she’d like to argue with the flames about doing my bidding.

Ten minutes later, the fire had grown big enough to throw off a little warmth. Not that I needed it with her so damn close. She sat on a log next to me, her arms crossed, glaring into the flames like the hatchet had personally betrayed her.

“You done sulking, Firecracker?” I asked, leaning back on my palms.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? Fits you better every time you open your mouth.” I’d given her the nickname years ago when she’d followed Thatcher, Holt, and me one afternoon around the Fourth of July.

We’d pooled our cash and bought a stash of firecrackers, then hiked into the woods to set them off.

Jessa couldn’t stand to be left behind, so she’d trailed us and almost blew off her hand when she set fire to the whole pile while we were arguing about who got to light the first one.

She’d been making my life a living hell ever since.

She shot me a look sharp enough to draw blood. But then her gaze softened, sliding over me in a way that had nothing to do with irritation. The firelight caught the edges of her eyes, and damn if my chest didn’t tighten.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“You’re right.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “But I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the pop of the fire and the whisper of night settling in. She shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest. The move dragged her shirt tight, and I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching for her.

When the wind picked up, she shivered. I grabbed the hoodie from my pack and tossed it at her.

She caught it, frowning. “Are you planning on staying, then?”

“Planning on keeping you alive,” I muttered.

Her lips curled up, not into a full smile, but close enough to make me feel like I’d been punched in the ribs. “Guess we’re sharing a tent, then.”

My cock twitched at the thought, but I forced a scowl. I should have brought my own tent, but I didn’t think she’d last this long. “No problem. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.”

We didn’t say much during a quick dinner of canned beans heated up over the fire and a few protein bars.

She might have packed a lot of gear, but I’d give her an “F” on food planning.

When we finally crawled inside the tent, my stomach still rumbling, her body brushing mine in a space that would have been tight for one, I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d make it through the night without crossing that line.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she finally said, her voice low.

I rolled over to face her. “You shouldn’t have come up here alone.”

“So we’re both stubborn. Shocking.”

“Your brothers would rearrange my face if they knew I was out here with you.”

“Are you afraid of them? Seems like you’re all about making choices based on what you think my brothers want.” She turned toward me, the dim light from her lantern catching on her cheekbones. “Maybe start thinking about what you want. Or even better, what I might want for a change.”

She was too fucking close to be playing with me, but I couldn’t stop. “And what’s that?”

Her eyes didn’t flinch. “You.”

The word landed like a hammer to my heart. I stared at the lantern so hard I saw double. It didn’t matter what I wanted. All I could think about was Thatcher, Holt, and Dane. I’d given those men my loyalty a lifetime ago.

She stared at me while she wiggled around in her sleeping bag. A few seconds later, she tossed her leggings aside. Her shirt followed. “It’s going to be too hot in here with you throwing off enough heat to melt an igloo.”

The tent shrank. Her shampoo, something clean and barely sweet, hung in the air.

“This is a mistake,” I said.

“Yet you’re still here.” She shifted closer, the whisper of her bare skin brushing against her sleeping bag as loud as thunder. “Say you don’t want me, too, and I’ll roll over and go to sleep so you can go back to pretending I’m just your friends’ little sister.”

I swallowed, my throat trying to work around gravel. “I can’t afford to make a mistake.”

She slid her palm over my chest, slow and testing, the heat of her hand burning through my shirt. Every muscle in me went tight. She felt it happen, and her smile turned soft, like she recognized I was teetering on a very thin edge. “It’s not a mistake, Harlan. It’s a choice.”

“Jessa,” I warned, hoping I had the strength to resist her, but knowing deep down I’d already failed.

“Harlan.” Her tone smacked of sass followed by a challenge.

I could’ve rolled away. I could’ve hauled myself outside and slept under the damn stars. Instead, her hand gripped my shirt and tugged, just enough to topple whatever willpower I had left.

“Fuck it,” I muttered, dragging her against me and crashing my mouth down on hers. No hesitation. Just teeth, tongue, and hunger. I kissed her hard enough to bruise, filthy enough to draw a gasp, and when she slid her hands under my shirt and tugged it up over my head, I almost lost control.

She bit my lip and raked her nails over my shoulders. I jammed my thigh between hers, and the sound she made wrecked me. Resisting her was impossible. I’d been holding back too long, and now I wanted everything… messy, raw, and dirty.

“More,” she whispered, and that was it.

I pulled her out of her sleeping bag and dragged her into my lap, the tent wall bowing, the whole world narrowing to heat and hands and the sound she made when I cupped the back of her neck and tilted her head. She held my cheeks with both palms, her eyes wide open.

“Tell me to stop,” I said, hoping she’d have the sense to put an end to things before it was too late to turn back.

“You want me to?” she asked, her voice ragged.

My heart went into a freefall. I rested my forehead against hers and pulled in a deep breath. “It’s probably for the best.”

“I won’t do it.” Her bare shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “I want a man who’s not afraid to want me right back. If that’s not you, then…”

I cut her off with a kiss. The thought of any other man putting his hands on her made me see red. She was mine. And hell, I’d been hers for years even if she didn’t know it.

Her skin was warm silk under my hands, goosebumps rising wherever my fingers traced. I kissed her again, guiding her back onto the pile of blankets she’d laid out on the tent floor. Her nails scraped down my arms and across my chest. Still, I couldn’t get enough.

Her fingers fumbled with my belt buckle, then the button at my waist. I shed my jeans, my boxer briefs, and even my socks. When we were both bare, she pulled me closer like she wanted every inch of me crushing her. The lantern light painted her skin gold, every curve begging to be claimed.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I growled, running my hands down her body, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks.

“Then show me,” she shot back, her eyes issuing a challenge.

That was all it took. I dragged my hand over her slick heat and nearly lost my mind when she arched into me. Her moans filled the small space, needy and reckless, and every one shredded the last of my restraint. I pressed my cock against her belly and held her gaze. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Not a problem. I’m on the pill.” She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me in. “Now shut up and fuck me, Boulder.”

I drove into her in one rough thrust, swallowing her cry with my mouth. She clenched tight around me, digging her fingers into my shoulders as I set a brutal pace. Every stroke was punishment and worship, every sound she made unraveling me even more.

She met me thrust for thrust, desperate and greedy, biting my neck, dragging me deeper until I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop.

“You’re mine,” I ground out, gripping her hips, slamming into her harder. “Say it, Jessa.”

“Yours,” she gasped, breaking apart underneath me, shattering with a cry that made my chest ache.

I followed her over the edge, spilling inside her with a groan, holding her tight, afraid if I let go, I might lose her forever.

For a long moment, the only sound was our ragged breathing. Shadows from the lantern flickered across the tent. I buried my face in her neck, still inside her, my body shaking, and finally let the truth slip.

“You’re going to ruin me, Firecracker.”

She tucked her face under my jaw. “So… still a mistake?”

I pressed my lips to her hair, a kiss so careful it hurt. “No.”

Her fingers traced my ribs in lazy circles. “Then let’s stop acting like we can only exist together in secret.”

The old fear slid in, cold and familiar. What was I supposed to do about Thatcher and Holt? “Your brothers?—”

She propped her chin on my chest, steady as stone. “Don’t hide behind them. If you don’t want me, have the balls to tell me. Don’t try to blame it on my brothers.”

I didn’t answer. Hell, I couldn’t. The words stuck behind all the years I’d taught myself that locking down my emotions was the only way to survive.

“I’m not going to make you do anything. Think about it and let me know how you want to handle this.” She didn’t push, just left it at that, her palm on my chest claiming me as hers.

She closed her eyes, but I stayed awake, listening to the forest breathe, my arm around the woman I wasn’t supposed to touch, counting all the ways the morning could break us, and knowing I’d still choose this night again. I was already too far gone to pretend I didn’t belong to her.