Page 10 of Restored by the Mountain Man (Eden Ridge: Hunter Brothers #3)

EZRA

E very breath she takes feels like the bed heaves, alerting me to her body inches away.

I can’t sleep. I gave up on closing my eyes because when they’re closed, vivid memories of her smooth, golden brown skin illuminated by the moon and that flashlight.

Her perfect, firm, round ass was in my face and God help me, I kept it as clinical as I could.

I should get sainthood for that shit.

I had to examine to make sure she wasn’t bitten by something that would need immediate attention but the moment my fingers touched her soft skin, I wanted to form my palm around her left cheek and massage it. Hear her moan.

Then she bent just right and there it fucking was. Her core, opening like a blooming flower. Bare, smooth, pink inner lips parting, calling for my tongue.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My dick is pulsing, hard and demanding. Pre-cum leaks as I convince myself I didn’t smell her, fragrant and wanting.

As quietly as I can, I peel myself out of bed, turning to make sure she doesn’t wake. I make it to the door and glance one last time, confirming she hasn’t moved. I hasten my steps and leave the RV. I need to relieve this. Now.

I can’t have the image, the smell, the feel of her haunting me while I’m in that damn bed right next to her body. I don’t trust not seeking her out in the middle of the night.

Need propels me. Lack of sleep doesn’t allow me to overthink this. I turn the corner where it’s darkest behind the RV. Not far from where we were a couple hours ago. Leaning my back against the cool steel, I tuck my flannel pants under my balls. The brush alone pulls them tight up my groin.

Groaning, I fist myself, the texture of my hand not what I would prefer so I imagine her slender fingers, nails painted in that deep purple taking hold of me and pumping slowly to tease. Fuck, that feels good.

Closing my eyes, I try to keep quiet as my hips jerk, seeking warmth, tightness.

Leaking, I gather it and quicken my strokes.

The cool September air doesn’t do shit for my heated skin.

I can picture it, so clearly. Zoe’s lips at my neck, her breath panting hot, teasing me as she explores my cock, root to tip.

“Are you wet, Sweet Cheeks?” I softly moan, picturing her teasing my balls as I remember that ass I want to bite into.

I imagine parting her cheeks and getting my face deep in there, licking her from her swollen bundle of nerves to her opening and tasting inside.

I moan again, too loudly. Biting my lip to the point of pain, my fist speeds up and down. I squeeze tighter while grabbing my balls with my other hand and massaging them.

“Zoe,” I choke, my spine tingling, my body tightening as I feel it happen.

“Fuck, baby.” My neck arches, my knees almost buckle as finally, everything fades to pure pleasure.

I chase the mess, coming all over my hands and onto the earth. My body jerks and in my head, I chant her name as I pant, feeling my dick slowly soften with release.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, filling my lungs desperately. My body deflates. Only the RV holds me up.

Then, the euphoric rush quickly turns my body cold. Guilt.

Irrational anger has me flicking my hand, getting my come off as I walk further into the land and clean off as best as I can using the earth.

At a tree further into the property, I lean forward against it, sliding down until I’m kneeling in front.

I grip the bark and rest my forehead against the rough wood.

Zoe is the first woman since Liz that I’ve ever… Shit . I can’t deny how damn good that felt. For a moment, I was alive again. I couldn’t remember what that felt like before. As my body rushed with pleasure, everything felt possible. In one split second.

And then in the next, reality crashed the party, tearing it all down.

I knock my head against the tree repeatedly, feeling tears well up.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so fucking sorry,” I tell my wife.

I punch the bark, welcoming the pain. Liz deserves my eternal penance.

Zoe is stunning, lively, hell, she’s eleven years younger.

What the fuck am I even doing? I’m thirty-eight years old.

She’s not even in her damn thirties yet.

Of course, I’ve noticed the mutual attraction but she’s sunshine, and I’m a constant storm cloud.

She deserves so much light and love in her life.

I can’t offer anything. Not even casually.

I stay out there for another thirty minutes before I head in and clean myself up. The sting from all the broken skin the tree earned me is what I need to ground me in reality. As quietly as I can, I change pajama bottoms and carefully get into bed, facing away from her.

I don’t remember falling asleep. A comforting weight rests at my back. Instinct has me reaching my hand over and taking the hand touching my shoulder, bringing it around to my chest and settling back in.

Those soft, long fingers push between mine, interlocking our hands. My thumb runs over her skin, her knee gently pushing between my legs. This dream feels hazy, intimate, peaceful. Her head nudges the back of my neck as she releases a quiet hum of pleasure.

Turning my head back, her nose brushes mine. Her quiet breaths puff, exhaling, then the slightest brush of soft, full lips.

Two sharp raps on the RV door harshly snap me out of this dream.

I jolt, wide awake and quickly realize…I wasn’t dreaming.

Zoe gasps, tightening her hold on me as sleep quickly fades and we both notice the compromising position we’re in.

“Good morning,” Francisco’s voice calls cheerfully from behind the RV door. “Hadn’t seen either of you yet so making sure you’re awake. Veronica says, breakfast in thirty. Get your butts ready,” he laughs. “See you soon.”

We’re both frozen, waiting for Francisco’s departure. Moving painstakingly slow, we untangle and move to opposite ends of the end.

“Um. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize,” she begins and her raspy morning voice has my already hardened dick twitching.

“It’s fine,” I briskly reply, needing to get the fuck out of there. “I’m gonna head in to shower, if that’s okay?”

Her long, dark brown hair is a beautiful mess around her face, her bare makeupless face is fresh, youthful. Her cheeks are flushed and when she licks her lips, that’s the last I can take. I refuse to spill my seed in front of her like a damn teenager with wet dreams.

She doesn’t answer fast enough so I grab my duffle bag, keeping it in front to cover my dick, and rush out to the main house for a scorching hot shower. Fuck a cold one. I want to feel the burn on my skin.

Breakfast is a test of will as I refrain from grunting answers at Veronica and Francisco who are eager to house us and they’ve been nothing but above and beyond welcoming. They remind me of my parents.

Another papercut to add to the sting throughout today. I keep my distance from Zoe. She attempts small talk. When that fails, she puts on her professional mask and talks business. This is why this shit is unacceptable.

Here I am, participating in a monumental business merging opportunity, and everything Francisco says or shows us is going over my head.

I nod a lot. I appear contemplative. But, in reality, the feel of her body wrapped around my back this morning is torturing me.

Because I loved it. She felt amazing. She felt… right.

And that’s the biggest mindfuck, if there ever was one.

Thankfully, as the day goes on, the bane of my current existence proves to be damn brilliant at what she does and takes over a lot of the business conversations.

She presents what she prepared, examines the grain supply, and talks distribution and delivery with Francisco and his team. I watch, half taking it in.

During lunch, I disappear, needing a moment alone. I answer Nash’s texts with updates on the business side of the trip until the conversation turns to Zoe.

NASH: How’s Zoe fairing at the farm?

Groaning, I don’t answer back. I head to the nearest river and sit for a while before another buzz comes in. Rolling my eyes, I already know it’s him.

NASH: Ah. Gotcha. Read ya loud and clear. Try not to Ghost her. You are her ride back, you know?

Asshole. Hilarious pun, big brother.

By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. That deep in your bones, your soul, tired. I eat dinner in a daze, ignoring the shifting eyes questioning my mood. Before everyone is finished, I get up, taking my plate to the kitchen.

“Francisco, Veronica. This has been a wonderful experience. Before Ms. Diaz and I head out in the morning, are you available to meet? Just you and me?” I ask.

“Of course, mijo. We’ll take coffee canisters and sit by the lake, make a decision,” he looks to Veronica, his wife.

“I’ll send you boys with breakfast sandwiches and spiced trail mix,” she smiles.

That actually sounds perfect.

“Thank you. If you’ll excuse me. Sleep came and went last night.

” Veronica’s concern has her about to say something but I quickly assure her.

“The sleep accommodations are perfect. Nothing to do with that. But if you all would be okay with it, I’m going to turn in early.

I’m used to being up before the sun anyway. ”

Zoe’s stare feels like a thick weight but I ignore it, keeping my eyes on the older couple.

“Of course, mijo,” Francisco stands. “Zoe, you and Veronica should head out and check out some of the festival preparations. I’m going to walk Ezra over to the RV.”

There’s no time to argue with him. He slaps my back, guiding me out of the house. I feel her questioning gaze at my back. Creating separation is the best solution. Setting distance. Her presence is too comforting and becoming way too familiar.

Francisco whistles as we walk across to where the RV is parked. He wants to say something. I wait it out, just desperately wanting to face plant into the bed and not dream, think, feel.

“Do you believe in fate, Ezra?” he asks as we walk.