Page 8 of The Mountain Man’s Curvy Obsession (Mountain Man Sanctuary #15)
Chapter seven
Eva sits in the passenger seat of my truck looking like the curvy goddess she is.
I’ve never been the jealous type, but seeing Eli touch her, and have the nerve to put his hand on her waist, as if he had a fraction of a chance with Eva, pissed me off.
I couldn’t stand watching that horseshit for another second.
I glance over and see her pretty face clearly in the moonlight streaming through the windshield. Her soft, floral, vanilla—feminine scent fills the cab. It’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to lean over and kiss her right now.
She trusts me—sees me, down to my soul, in a way no one else ever has.
She even loved me once. I don’t know why it took me so long to appreciate her.
Maybe it was the shock of her showing up at my door as the mail-order bride I was already planning to bail on.
She threw me a curveball, and ruined all my carefully laid out plans for a life of solitude.
But she didn’t hesitate to leave Timber Jack’s with me. Without so much as a question, she slipped her delicate hand into mine, and here we are, together again.
“Um…” Her voice breaks the quiet as she shifts in the cracked leather seat to face me. “Where exactly are we going?”
I need to keep my eyes on the road because there are bears all over this area. “Does it matter?” I ask, sending her a quick smile, and she laughs, cutting through the tension like a blast of fresh air.
“No, actually. I guess it really doesn’t.” Thank God she feels the same way I do. We could be anywhere right now, and I’d be happy as long as she was next to me. She tucks a loose golden curl behind her ear, silently waiting and I decide to be straight with her.
“I’m taking you home.” I quickly check her reaction.
Her forehead creases and she studies me with an expression I can’t quite read. “Home? You mean your mom’s house?”
“No.” I meet her gaze for a moment, the weight of my words settling between us. “I mean mine. Where you belong.” I pause, letting that sink in, then add, “Your boxes arrived, by the way.”
Her lips part in a small gasp. “Oh, okay,” she says tentatively, like she’s mulling things over. I hope she still wants to live with me. “Everything’s at your place?”
“Not sure if it’s everything. I didn’t count the boxes, but they’re taking up a lot of space in the living room. Not that I mind.” I cut the engine, climb out and round the hood to her side.
Eva’s already reaching for the door handle, but I beat her to it, opening it with a creak and offering my hand.
She takes it and slides out, her dress swishes as her heels touch the ground.
We’re close enough that I can feel her heat, and get a good whiff of her unmistakable feminine scent that drives me crazy.
Her stare meets mine, wide and searching, and I see the twenty-five-year-old girl who loved me years ago.
“I’ve missed you, Eva,” I admit, bringing my hand to her face.
Her lips part in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed as I bend, gently tracing my tongue along her bottom lip.
Eva whimpers, angling her head, meeting my mouth in a slow, lingering kiss.
The world around us fades into nothingness as her hands find their way to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer.
With one hand on her hip, I tug her flush against me so she can feel what she’s doing to me.
When we finally break apart, breathless and hungry for more, I press my forehead against hers. “I’ve missed you so damn much.” Her eyes flutter open with a mix of desire and vulnerability that undoes me. “Let’s go inside before I start ripping your clothes off.”
“Sounds like my kind of plan,” she grins, and when I scoop her up into my arms, her surprised laughter is music to my ears.
“Here comes the bride,” she teases as I carry her over the threshold and into the cluttered living room.
There are cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly against the far wall, some labeled, others taped shut and sagging from the move.
I set her down, and she stares at the mess, taking it all in.
She turns to me, as if she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she smiles—small, sexy and private, leaving me no doubt about where this night is going.
This time, I don’t ease into the kiss. I take it, claiming her mouth with a hunger I’ve held back for too damn long.
Her lips part in a breathless gasp, welcoming my tongue in a dance.
She melts against me, clutching my arms, pulling me closer.
My erection turns to steel. I’m lost in her.
Her lips, her tongue, her scent, her soft, soft skin.
And the sounds she’s making, her needy moans, go straight to my groin.
“Slade,” she whispers, all breath. The sound of her desire only escalates my need. “Slade,” this time her voice is trembling. She tilts her head up with uncertain eyes.
“What is it?” I ask, keeping my arms around her waist. She’s so close I can feel her heart beating as fast as mine.
“I think you should know, I’m not going to be any good at this.” Her cheeks flush pink, and she drops her gaze.
“That’s ridiculous,” I murmur in a low, hopefully comforting voice. I lean down and brush a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, breathing in the faint vanilla scent of her skin. “You’re perfect.”
She casts her eyes down and hesitates before the words tumble out, “But this will be my first time.”
It takes a moment for the concept to register. I blink with my brain scrambling to catch up. “You’re still a virgin? After all these years?” I don’t mean to sound so surprised, but we’re the same age, thirty-one, and I just figured … “Really?”
She nods, biting her lip. “Afraid so.”
“But you said you were serious with that guy in Missouri.” The thought of her with someone else upsets me to no end, but I’m trying to put this puzzle together.
“We were engaged, living in a house his parents owned. They were right next door,” she explains, shaking her head.
“But why?” I ask feebly. She’s so beautiful. There’s no need for her to worry about finding men who would get on their knees for her. And I know for a fact she gets turned on easily, and has no problem letting go.
“Why am I still a virgin, or why was I living with him?” She asks, and I see her eyes start to well with tears.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Please don’t cry. “It doesn’t matter,” I quickly add, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I’m actually thrilled about being your first.”
She gives me a small, fragile smile, like it could break if I say the wrong thing. “Remember when we were dating and we would only go so far because I wanted to save myself for marriage?”
“Remember?” I chuckle. “How could I forget? I had blue balls the entire time.”
She laughs, a soft, real laugh that cuts through the heaviness.
“Well, I stuck with the plan. Kept hoping I’d finally find the one.
But I never did.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes shimmer with fresh tears.
“Another reason the mail-order bride thing sounded like a good idea. I’m getting so tired of waiting.
” She sniffs, swiping at her cheeks as tears spill over.
“It isn’t easy to come to terms with being … unlovable, I guess.”
That word—unlovable—hits me like a fist to the gut. Her? I tighten my arms around her, pulling her closer. “You’re not. You’re anything but unlovable.” I’ve never been great with words, but I need her to know the truth.
“But Slade,” she says gently, “after you, none of my boyfriends worked out.”
The words hang there, raw and heavy, and I feel a weight on my shoulders. I remember our breakup, the fights, how I let my stubborn pride get in the way, letting her leave when I should’ve begged her to stay.
“Well, we didn’t work out either,” I say softly, brushing a tear from her cheek with my thumb. “And yet, here we are. Turns out we like fighting.” I grin, hoping to cheer her up, and it works—she looks up at me, and gives me one of her mischievous sly smiles that always makes my heart skip.
“Only with you,” she clarifies, rising on her tiptoes, her hands sliding up my chest to cup my face. She kisses me, soft at first, then deeper, hungrily and urgently.
“Keep kissing me like that,” I murmur against her lips, “and I’ll get addicted to fighting.”
“It’s already too late for me to stop.”
“Then we won’t, baby. I’m going to kiss you from head to toe, morning, noon and night.
” I guide Eva to the sofa. Her nipples are making my mouth water, clearly visible and erect as she sinks into the cushions.
I sprawl on top of her, cup her cheeks in my hands and ravish her mouth.
She reaches up, threads her fingers in my hair and pulls me down closer, until our tongues are tangling, we’re sucking each other, and gasping for breath.
“You smell so good,” I groan, inhaling her, as I make a trail of open-mouth kisses along her jaw, relishing the taste of her soft skin.
I work my way down, my lips never leaving her delectable flesh as I unbutton the top of her dress, and tug her bra down to kiss and suck her nipples, giving each equal time.
I’m glad I left the small lamp on before leaving for the dance because it’s casting the perfect light over her.
“You’re more beautiful than ever, Eva,” my voice sounds like rough gravel.
She moans, shifting, so my thigh is wedged between her legs as she grinds against me.
I know she’s wet. I can smell her desire for me, and it sends me to another world.
I reposition myself, and move down her ripe, curvy body until I’m kneeling with my hands sliding up her creamy thighs, pushing her dress higher.
Her grey eyes are as dark as slate as she watches me; her breaths are coming in short gasps.