Page 3 of Temptation for the Mountain Man (Fall for a Mountain Man #9)

Blaze

"...his hands expertly explore my slick core. I cry out in ecstasy as his hot tongue finds my throbbing nub, desperate for his attention ."

The last thing I expect when I walk into my house later that afternoon is to hear porn playing loudly via my Bluetooth speakers.

I grab the baseball bat I keep in the umbrella stand by the front door, prepared to take out the masturbating intruder, but the porn cuts off abruptly.

Loud swearing ensues, coming from the hallway.

"Mother-fucking piece of shit!" a feminine voice yells out.

Tossing the bat onto the couch, I stride toward the voice and skid to a stop in the doorway of my bathroom, frozen in shock.

The mystery girl from The Palmer is standing there, soaking wet, using my towel to dry her hair. She lifts her head and locks eyes with me in the mirror.

"Oh!" After doing a double-take, she whirls around, dropping the towel in her haste.

Fucking hell.

I try to keep my gaze focused on her eyes and away from her wet, white t-shirt, which is practically see-through and stretched across her perfect fucking rack, but she’s not wearing a bra.

Instead of acting like a gentleman, my gaze bounces back and forth between the fabric clinging to her hard, dark nipples and up to her eyes like I'm having a spasm.

Maybe I am. Hell, maybe I had a heart attack on the way into my house, and this is all a dream. If I could pick a heaven, it would certainly be this moment. Minus the confusion because what the hell is she doing here?

"I-I'm sorry. You're Blaze?"

My name on her lips makes my heart race. My cock is already straining against my zipper from the sight of her perfect tits. That mixed with the erotica she was listening to, I'm already wound like a top.

"I am," I manage to grit out.

She's too young, boss.

I walk over to the small cabinet to the right of the sink and pull out a dry towel.

I wrap it around her shoulders. "What are you doing in my house?

" It comes out gruffer than I intended, but I can barely focus on anything with her sweet, honeysuckle scent wrapped around me.

It reminds me of the end of summer as a kid.

"I'm so sorry. This must be a little shocking." She laughs awkwardly. "I was supposed to be a surprise. Celeste hired me."

The flash of heat in her eyes as she gazes at me through her dark lashes almost has me whimpering with need. I physically force myself to step back from her.

"I'm Callie," she continues shyly. "I've seen you working on the tiny houses at The Palmer."

Her towel has slipped again, and unfortunately for the thin tether I have on my restraint, Callie seems oblivious to her invisible-shirt situation.

"Hired you? For me?" I ask, clearing my throat as I attempt to focus on the most pressing concern at the moment.

Hired her for what? My dirty mind is racing in a million directions, but underneath it is the rage that she might be having to sell her body for money.

But she said Celeste hired her. We're close, but not that close.

Callie nods, giving me that smile. The one that’s both joyful and sad. It makes me want to pull her into my arms and never let her go.

She leans over to pick up my cleaning bucket, which was hidden on the other side of the vanity. "I clean houses for extra money. Celeste said your birthday is coming up tomorrow, so she got you a cleaning."

"Celeste hired you to clean my house?" I repeat slowly, my filthy brain picturing her curvy ass in a French maid costume like the ones around Halloween.

"Happy almost birthday," Callie says weakly. "Should I go? I'll give Celeste her money back if you'd rather not have me here."

"I want you here," I blurt out too quickly, then clear my throat. "I mean, no, I need a cleaning."

Callie brightens and sighs in relief. "Thank goodness. Um, I'll mop up this mess. I turned on the shower, and it got out of control."

"Right. I need to replace the gasket." I hold up the bag in my hand.

"Are you a plumber?"

"Yeah, yes." I clear my throat again, trying and failing to keep my eyes above her neck. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen."

Twenty minutes later, she's drinking tea at my kitchen counter as she tells me about herself. Her shirt is almost dry, which I'm conflicted about.

"She's going to be a marine biologist. She's so smart." Callie smiles into her cup before looking up at me and wrinkling her nose. "I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

"No," I say sincerely. The more I get to know her, the more I want to know. She's kind and sweet, working ridiculous hours to help put her sister through college. When she laughs, her whole face lights up, and my heart squeezes, wanting to hear that sound on repeat.

We sit next to each other on the two stools, close enough that her knee brushes against my leg each time she shifts. I can still smell the honeysuckle clinging to her even though her hair is now dry.

Callie smiles at me, letting out a little huff of laughter. "I sound like a proud mama, I know. But I raised her, so I guess I am in some ways."

"How much older are you?" I've been trying to figure out her age, searching desperately for one concrete reason not to make her mine.

"Erin came along when I was eleven."

Shit. Twenty-nine.

"Our mom was married to a guy who had a hefty bank account and two teenage girls already," Callie continues, oblivious to the disappointing math I'm doing in my head.

"They pretty much lived with their mom full time, and the youngest was heading to college by the time Erin was born.

Bill didn't want more kids. I think my mother thought she could lock him down for life if she got pregnant.

It worked for a while. Man, the trips they took around the world.

" Callie rolls her eyes, pausing to take another sip of her tea.

"They always invited his older daughters to go with them, but Erin was too young.

They said they couldn't have fun when she was there. And I...wasn't his daughter."

My fists clench, wanting to punch the man who made my shining star a servant in her own home. She's like a real-life Cinderella. Except the evil stepmother was her own flesh and blood.

Callie sets her mug on the counter with a bright smile. "But I won in the end. I focused on Erin, and she's amazing."

Her love for her sister is palpable, and I find myself smiling at her like she hangs the moon.

"You don't look old enough to be Celeste's uncle." Her voice is breathy, and her gaze flits over my body.

"I was a bonus baby." I gaze at Callie, unable to tear myself away.

Now that I know I'm too old for her, I should leave her alone. Let her get back to work and pretend she doesn't exist. Instead, I lean into her. It's like I'm locked in. Here for whatever she needs from me.

"At least, that's what my mom liked to call me. There are fifteen years between my sister and me. Celeste only calls me Uncle around people who don't know us.” I smirk. “Or when she's mad at me."

Callie smiles, a wistful expression flitting across her face. "It must be nice to have a big family."

She rests her hand on my knee, and I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, her dark brown eyes are watching me. Her gaze flits down to my mouth, and I know if I reached out and pulled her into my arms, she'd let me kiss her.

"You're younger than my niece," I growl with a desperation beyond lust.

This is infatuation. I know what I should do. Stop this. Stand up. Leave. Anything. And yet, an urge so primal it's part of my DNA demands I claim her.

She snorts, raising an eyebrow, but I don't back down. I need to give her every chance to walk away. To run.

I reach forward, cupping her cheek, and she leans into my hand. "I could practically be your father, Callie."

"Babies making babies," Callie whispers, her eyes on my mouth as she leans closer to me.

I can't take my eyes off her. My mouth waters. I need to taste her. All of her. But she needs to be with someone her own age.

I get ready to tell her so, but then she licks her lips and says, "You would have been an awfully young daddy, Blaze."

The way she says "daddy" does something for both of us.

Like lighting a match deep inside our souls.

Her eyes darken with lust at my reaction…

and then we're on each other. I don't know who moves first. For my own sanity, I say it's her, but it doesn't matter. We’re a clash of lips and tongues as we come together in a passionate frenzy.

"Oh, fuck, you taste good," I groan against her mouth, breaking our kiss to move to her neck.

"Oh, God. Oh, my god, Blaze."

Callie panting my name drives me insane with need.

I lift her onto the counter, and she squeals, staring at me in shock before she dives back toward me, sealing her mouth to mine. Her hands explore my chest and back, squeezing my muscles.

I want to melt into her touch.

But first, I need a taste.