Page 5 of The Mountain Man’s Heat (Blue Mountain Burn: The Firefighters of Hartley Ridge #1)
Chapter Five
Hudson
She’s stuck here. With me. In my home. For the night.
This is a problem.
Because every time I look at her, I want to peel the wet clothes from her body and give her so much pleasure she never wants to leave.
Five minutes ago, I hurried out of the kitchen with the muttered pretense of getting her a blanket. Five minutes of hiding out in my bedroom. Pacing.
I’ve never been as affected by a woman as I am by Iris. The moment her gaze connected with mine out in the storm, I wanted to haul her to my body and protect her, comfort her, give her all my strength…
Scrunching up my face, I rub the back of my neck and suck in a slow, deep breath.
“Get it together, McKinney,” I mumbled, shaking my head as I snatch up the blanket on my bed, a patchwork quilt my sister made me before she moved to the UK to study media and communications.
Each little shape of material makes up a six-by-six image of her smirking face.
“You see so much heat, big brother,” she’d said, lobbing the blanket at me, “I figured you’d like to sleep with something ultra cool. ”
Striding back into the kitchen, heart thumping, I force my expression to be indifferent and hold out the folded blanket. “Wrap yourself in this, and I’ll make you another cuppa.”
She looks up from patting Archie, and an invisible fist punches me in the gut.
Her lips are blue, and shivers wrack her body.
“You’re freezing,” I state, hurrying over to her.
Of course, she is. She’s been in wet clothes for who knows how long, and I’ve got the air-con blasting in a futile attempt to defeat the humid summer storm temperature. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”
“A little,” she replies, the words dissolving into a laugh peppered with the click of chattering teeth. She gives me a shaky smile. “I mean, I’m a little freezing, not you’re a little idiot. There’s nothing little about you.”
Tight heat floods my body.
“You need to get out of your clothes,” I blurt out, dumping the blanket on the table and reaching for her upper arm.
I’ve almost curled my fingers around it when I stop and jerk my hand back.
She’s not a victim in a burning house. I have no right to touch her, not even to help her to her feet.
Especially after declaring she needs to undress.
Because hell, what I wouldn’t give to help her remove the wet clothes from her exquisite body? Exploring her exposed skin with my lips and teeth and?—
Enough. Get your shit together.
A strangled chuckle squeezes from me, and I take a step back. “That came out wrong.” I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to sound so…” Sighing, I give her a sheepish smile. “I meant you need to warm up, and your wet clothes aren’t helping.”
She laughs, and my blood runs hotter. I could listen to that throaty laugh for the rest of my life. “I knew what you meant.” A flash of dimples on either side of her lips sends my hot blood south. “And you’re right. I do.”
For a crushing beat, our stares lock. And then she flicks a look behind me. “Umm…”
I frown over my shoulder and realization hits me. “Shit.” I throw her another sheepish smile. “Yeah, I’ll leave you alone. In fact, I’ll go get you some dry clothes. You okay with a pair of my track pants and a T-shirt?”
“Totally okay.” Her dimples tease me again, and I’m in trouble.
I want to press my lips to them. I want to bury my hands in the damp curls of her hair and kiss her dimples and then her lips and the side of her neck and the curve where it becomes her shoulder and the little dip at the base of her throat and–
“Done,” I say. I need to get a grip. She’s probably nervous enough about spending the night here with a strange man. The last thing she needs is said strange older man behaving like a horny Neanderthal. Without another word, I pivot on my heel and start to stride out of the kitchen.
“Hudson?”
Her soft voice clamps around my heart like a vice, and I turn back to her, my pulse pounding. She’s standing, and even from here, I can see she’s still shivering. And that her nipples are pebbled. “Iris?”
“Thank you,” she says, reaching for the blanket on the table. “I’m sorry to be an inconvenience.”
With a low chuckle, I shake my head. “I’m a firefighter, remember? Saving damsels in distress is part of the job.”
One of her eyebrows lifts, and her lips twitch. “So I’m a damsel in distress, am I?”
Letting a grin play with my own lips, I scratch at the stubble on my jaw. “Now that I think about that punch to the chest you gave me out in the storm…maybe damsel in distress isn’t accurate.”
Her lips split in a wide grin. It’s playful and cheeky, and my cock responds. “I’ll let you have it,” she says, a light gleaming in her eyes. “Because you did save me from needing to tell Aunt Lily I lost Archie.”
At his name, Archie rises to his feet, tail wagging.
She gives his side a gentle pat, and I love how her hair tumbles over her shoulder, like a cascade of chocolate curls that skim the full curve of her breast.
“It was an impressive blow,” I say, trying to distract myself from the sight. I fix my attention on her face instead. Damn, her eyes are beautiful, a light hazel green that seems to hold me prisoner. “Do you box?”
“Ha. No.” Her dimples flash again. “My brother is a TV and film stunt coordinator. I grew up learning how to fight—well, stage fight—and tumble.”
Tumble.
A heady image of her on my bed fills my head, the sheets tousled around her limbs as if she’s been moving around in it with someone— me —and a low, almost guttural growl rumbles deep in the back of my throat.
Archie pricks his ears.
Iris blinks and hugs the blanket with my sister’s face on it to her chest. “Plus,” she says, her voice husky, uncertain, “my fight or flight reflex is permanently stuck on fight these days.”
If that’s not a warning, I don’t know what is. “I’ll get those dry clothes for you,” I state with a nod. “And leave you in peace.”
And with that, I hurry out of the kitchen.
I pride myself on discipline and control—you can’t be a firefighter without either—but Iris Andrews ignites an elemental desire in me that I’m struggling to contain.
How the fuck am I going to survive the night knowing she’s under my roof?