Page 128 of Mountain Men Heroes
“You keep saying that. But you know what? Maybe it’s for the best. Being a razor blade and all, I wouldn’t want to leave you bleeding.” She scooted off the counter and straightened her sweater as she turned on her heel and was out the door before he could stop her.
Damon’s jaw dropped as she tossed his words back at him. He had a sinking feeling he would regret those words for a long time coming and really fucked up big.
God, but she was lovely.
Five
Back in her temporary apartment and her temporary bed, Ivy stuffed the pillow over her face and let out a scream at her very not-so-temporary lust-induced need to orgasm. Right now.
She tugged at her pants and slipped a hand inside. She imagined the pressure against her clit was Damon’s as she swirled the pad of her finger over the pulsing bud.
She gasped, arched into her own touch. Rubbing faster she screamed when her climax barreled through her. She knew it would be fast but the hot, raw release that tore through her left her muscles weak.
She sat up and tossed the pillow aside.
“It was a mistake coming here.”
Every nerve ending in her body still tingled, wanting more. Wanting him.
“Damon.” She rolled the name around and savored the way it played off her tongue. The man was dangerously addictive and not because he could whip up a batch of mean pumpkin chocolate pie-gasms or work the coffee machine like the god of caffeine.
And the combination of his kiss and what he did with his hips made her desperate to find out what he would do when there were no clothes holding him back.
She rubbed her hands over her face and groaned. She had two words for what he was—possessive and claiming. No. Three, she corrected. He was passionate too. Not only about his bar and bakery but about his family. She caressed the pads of her fingers over her lips. The burn he incited on impact.
She shuddered from her head down to her red berry painted toes. Is that what her sister meant by burning desires when her husbands kissed her?
Ivy rolled back on the bed and pressed her legs together, desperate. Pulse after pulse of pent-up aching need throbbed through her clit. She’d never experienced something so consuming, so fast to burn like she did with Damon. The one, lonely orgasm she’d self-induced wouldn’t hold her off long.
She needed a cold shower. Pronto.
She bounced from the messy bed and crossed the small apartment to collect her suitcases where she’d left them the night before by the couch. Dawn worked its magic beyond the large windows and peeked around the fringes of the heavy red curtains that matched the comforter on the bed.
Ivy pulled them open to reveal a wintry wonderland of pure white.
She took a moment to appreciate the view before making her way through the apartment to flick on several lamps to chase away a few of the shadows that remained.
White carpet covered every inch of flooring with a matching couch kissing the back wall. Other than that, the place was pretty bare save the coffeemaker and a round table for two nestled close to the front window. The open combined space wasn’t much, but she had to hand it to Damon given it was his place, he knew how to pull together colors that made the space feel cozy. For a second she considered what his place looked like. Was it matching to hers or all decked out in manly things like a big recliner and flat-screen TV?
She dashed that thought away. Probably not. She didn’t see him as a stay at home kind of guy when there was so much to do and see in such a wonderful place. She almost felt bad for saying she didn’t believe in magic last night.
Back in the bedroom, Ivy tossed the suitcase on the dresser under the front window overlooking Main Street and paused when a flash of white caught her eye.
Damon stood in the middle of the vacant street with an elbow propped up on the roof of a heavy-duty truck talking with the white-haired man from yesterday. Reaper, she recalled.
She pulled the heavy curtain to the side a fraction and peered out from the corner. “What are you up to, slick?” On tiptoes she pried closer, using the back of the curtain to wipe away some of the condensation.
A couple of minutes later Damon rounded the truck and she watched the red of his button-down flannel slide out of sight as he entered the passenger side.
But not before he flicked a look her direction. “Oh, shoot.” With the curtain pulled back she couldn’t readily dodge behind anything, so she did the only thing she could.
She raised a hand and pressed her lips against her fingers and blew a kiss his direction.
She earned the flash of his sexy half-grin and then he was gone. “Be still my freaking heart.” She fanned her face. “That man will haunt you forever and a day, girl.” Ivy pulled back from the window and let the curtain fall back in place as she flicked through the few things she’d packed.
Meticulous organization ruled her like an unwanted bad habit that leaked over from her schooling. Everything she did fed into her massive need to have things lined up. Until now, she mused. About the only thing that she could organize was her suitcase.
In order of use, she pulled out a pair of long johns, underwear, two shirts and a pair of jeans that she could tuck into her snow boots. More layers. She needed more layers to protect her against the lust bombarding her body like daggers, if she was going to spend the next several hours working with him.