Page 124 of Mountain Men Heroes
“You growl like that and it makes a girl wonder.”
He peered down at her as she snatched her hand back to play with the zipper of her coat as if she needed to keep her hands busy. “Wonder what?” he husked silkily.
She shot him a look over her shoulder then cautiously stepped through the door. Her eyes darkened and he read her answer before she uttered the last words he expected to hear. “Wonder what you sound like in bed.”
He groaned a tortured sound pulled from deep inside. “How are you not already claimed and spoken for, angel,” he wondered aloud in a low tone, tucking the same stubborn lock behind her ear.
She smiled but said nothing as she eased around the counter to perch on a stool.
He was royally screwed.
“You did it again. Maybe you should see someone about that? Or maybe eat something?”
Not a soul on the planet could cure him of what he had.
“I don’t think a donut is going to help cure me of what I have.” He made quick work of cutting them each a piece of his personal creation and served up a double espresso.
“And what would that be? What ails you? Maybe I can help because you do tend to growl every time I get close to you or touch you. Maybe you have an allergy to raven-haired Texans. Or maybe it’s the strawberry Chapstick?”
“Or maybe it’s one angel with black-rimmed glasses, green eyes, and tacky sweaters.”
“Lucky me! You’re right. There’s not a pill for that?”
Lucky? Not even close. His past taught him that the hard way. Working as an undercover cop for three years to build a case against the drug cartels invading the underworld from across the Bering Strait and the country’s Russian neighbors, painted a big target on his ass, even retired. No, she wasn’t lucky at all that he wanted her.
“And assuming you are talking about me as some angel...you should definitely get that out of your head.” He watched the fork disappear between her lips, and his cock twitched, anticipating the feel of her tongue working the tip of his shaft the way she licked the remnants off the fork.
“Oh. My. God. I think I just came.” Her eyes rolled closed, and she groaned as if she’d just stepped off cloud nine and free-fell into pure bliss.
Damon choked on the sip of coffee as he leaned on the countertop, his pie left untouched. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She laughed and it reached all the way to her eyes, and it warmed him in a way he shouldn’t take comfort in, since it meant he’d just slipped another notch closer to the danger zone.
“You made this?” She pointed the fork at her plate as she scooped up another big bite.
He nodded.
“How do you not have women lined up outside your door right now?” She turned in her stool and craned her neck around to the front door as if to make sure her statement wasn’t true already. “It’s like you infused sex appeal into pumpkin pie and then dipped it in chocolate for a follow-up orgasm and for aftershocks, added another dash of cinnamon.” She moaned long and low and he almost felt jealous of the pastry she praised, wishing it was him giving her such euphoria.
“I had no idea that was even a thing.” His words sounded raw even to his ears. She killed him. One mouthful of pie at a time.
“It is to a woman. Have you ever had an orgasm so hard the aftershocks felt just as good as the original until you’re left with nothing but a limp body and the need to sleep for days?”
That burned like a poker to the balls and had his jaw flexing, biting back the crazy notion of jealousy that clawed at him at the thought of another man giving her that experience. What the hell was wrong with him? “I take it you have.”
“Nope. Virgin, but I’ve dreamed about it.”
It took him a good ten seconds to gather his thoughts after that admission. This woman was amazing. Open book for sure, but there was a quaintness about it.
Braced against the counter, his gaze roved over the several platters of sugar cookies in various shapes. Tension cranked up the heat with every heartbeat and every muscle in his body bunched tightly at the single word.
“But this comes pretty damn close.”
He pushed up and poured them another round of espressos.
Time to change the subject. “How long have you been a doctor?”
Ivy shifted and straightened her shoulders. “Are you going to eat that?” He scooted his plate over to her along with her fresh cup of caffeine.