Page 5 of Mountain Man’s Curvy Girl (Summer In The Pines #4)

Ethan

I don’t pull away. I can’t. Instead, my fingers tighten over hers, holding her hand in place under the blanket.

Fuck! Her skin is softer than anything I’ve ever touched.

And I fucking love our size difference—how small her hand feels in my huge paw, how easily I could wrap my fingers around her wrist and hold her down.

“Chloe,” I murmur, her name rolling off my tongue rough and gravelly, thick with the weight of everything I can’t hold back anymore. She looks up at me, her wide brown eyes locking with mine, and I see it—it’s just a flicker of something under the nerves. But it’s clear as day. Want.

I lean closer, and she doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. The truck feels smaller, the air thick with the scent of her—vanilla and something fucking addictive. All woman. All her.

“You’re trembling,” I growl out.

“I’m not,” she whispers, even as her hand shakes under mine.

I chuckle low in my throat, shifting closer until there’s barely a breath of space between us. “Liar.”

Her lips part, her breath catching as I let my hand slide up, brushing over her wrist and along her forearm. Her pulse is frantic under my fingertips, and I can feel her body heat even through the layers between us.

“Ethan…” Her voice cracks. She’s not scared. No, she’s leaning into me now, her shoulders relaxing as her chest rises and falls in quick breaths.

“Tell me to stop,” I rasp, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my pulse.

She doesn’t.

Instead, her gaze drops to my mouth, and that tiny, hesitant movement is all it takes to break my restraint.

I close the distance between us, my lips crashing against hers with a ferocity that startles us both. She gasps, and I take advantage, sliding my tongue inside her mouth, tasting her—sweet, soft, and every fucking thing I didn’t know I needed.

She melts against me, her hands clutching the front of my jacket as if she’s afraid I’ll pull away. Not a chance, baby girl. My hand moves to cup the back of her neck, angling her head so I can deepen the kiss, claiming her fully.

* * *

Chloe

The second his lips touch mine, my brain goes blank. All I can feel is him—the rough scrape of his beard against my skin, the heat of his mouth moving over mine, the way his hand holds me firmly but gently, like he’s afraid I might break but can’t let go.

I’ve kissed guys before. I’ve been kissed before. But nothing—nothing—has ever felt like this. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming, like he’s pouring everything he has with every movement of his lips.

His hand slides down, his fingers brushing against my jaw, my neck, and the touch sends a shiver racing down my spine. I gasp against his mouth, and he growls—low, rough, and so primal it makes my knees turn to jelly, even though I’m sitting down.

“Chloe,” Ethan murmurs against my lips, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that makes my toes curl. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I do,” I whisper, though my voice shakes.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his blue-gray eyes dark and stormy as they search mine. His lips are swollen, his jaw tight, and I can feel the tension radiating off him like heat.

“If I keep going,” he rumbles, “I’m not gonna stop.”

I swallow hard, my pulse racing as I force myself to meet his gaze. “I don’t want you to stop, Ethan.”

The words hang in the air between us, and for a moment, everything is still. Then he’s moving—his hands cupping my face, his lips crashing to mine, his hulking body shifting closer until there’s no space left between us.

The truck feels too small, too hot, too everything, but all I care about is him—his touch, his heat, the way he’s kissing me like I’m the only thing keeping him alive.