Page 75 of Wrecked on the Mountain

Jamie

The second my cabin door closes behind us, every ounce of restraint I've been clinging to all evening snaps like a frayed rope.

I back Brooke against the door, my hands bracing on either side of her head, caging her in. The burgundy dress that's been driving me insane all night catches the firelight already roaring inside my cabin, wrapping us in heat and making her look like some kind of goddess who's wandered too far into my mountain sanctuary.

"You have no idea what you did to me tonight," I growl against her ear, reaching behind to cup her ass.

"Jamie," she breathes, her hands already reaching for my shirt.

But I need her to understand. Need her to know what watching her with my family did to me.

"Do you know what it was like?" I ask, my mouth finding the sensitive spot where her neck meets her shoulder. I bite down and suck. "Watching you laugh with my sisters? Seeing my mom look at you like you're already her daughter?"

Her breath hitches as I suck on her pulse point, leaving what I hope is the first of many marks I plan to leave on her tonight.

"Watching Dad actuallysmilewhen you complimented his woodworking?" I continue, my hands sliding down to grip her waist. "Seeing you fit into my world like you were made for it?"

"I was," she whispers, her fingers threading through my hair. "I was made for this. For you."

Fuck.

I lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist, the action making her dress ride up to reveal those incredible thighs. The soft gasp she makes when I press her more firmly against the door goes straight to my cock.

"That's right. You're mine, Brooke," I say, looking directly into those honey-brown eyes that have completely wrecked me since day one. "Say it."

"I'm yours," she whispers without hesitation, nipping at my bottom lip with her teeth. "I'm all yours, Mountain Daddy."

She latches onto my mouth and I carry her to the couch and drop her onto the leather cushions, watching as she bounces slightly, that burgundy dress riding up her thighs. Christ, she's gorgeous.

"Stay right there," I command, moving to the bar cart where I keep the good stuff—a bottle of expensive whiskey I've been saving for something special.

I pour two glasses and glance back at her. The firelight dances across her skin, and from this angle, I have the perfect view down the front of her dress. Those perfect breasts have been taunting me all evening, the soft curves barely contained by the fabric.

My hands shake as I cap the bottle.

Pretty soon, the $200 bottle of whiskey I've poured sits forgotten on the mantle because I'm drunk on something far more intoxicating.

I'm drunk on her.

On the way she made my nephew laugh during dinner. On how she helped my mom clear dishes and talked like old best friends. On the sight of her curled up last night, trusting me enough to fall asleep in my arms.

I sit down beside her, my hands immediately going to the zipper of her dress.

"This dress," I mutter, pressing kisses along her collarbone as I work the fabric down her body. "Has been making me insane all night."

"I hoped it would," she admits with that wicked smile that makes me want to do filthy things to her.

"Careful what you wish for, sweetheart," I growl, my thumb tracing along her jawline. "Do you remember what happens to naughty girls?"

Her eyes spark with mischief and something darker that makes my cock throb against my jeans. "Enlighten me. I seem to have forgotten."

It's like she's issuing a challenge wrapped in silk, and fuck, it nearly undoes me completely.

"Oh, I think you remember perfectly well," I murmur, leaning down until my lips brush against her ear. "But I'm more than happy to give you a refresher course."

I take my time with her, worshipping every inch of skin as it's revealed. The burgundy fabric pools at her feet, and underneath she's wearing a black lace set that should be illegal.

"So sexy, Brooke."