Kept By The Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men Book 3)

by Gemma Weir

  “I work on the ranch in my spare time and my dad usually comes for dinner a few times a week,” Bonnie says, not arguing when Beau takes the platter of muffins from her, holding one in each hand.

  “What do your parents do?” Bonnie asks Alice.

  “I don’t see my dad, but my mom travels with my step-dad, she’s never really worked, she’s just always mooched off whoever her boyfriend or husband was at the time,” Alice says a little bitterly, but it’s still the most she’s spoken about her family since we met.

  “And your sister is in the Army?”

  “Yeah, she joined straight out of high school.”

  “Does she have a specialism?” Bonnie asks.

  “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her since she left for basic training,” Alice says, her voice breaking a little.

  “Me and my brother aren’t close. My parents had him when they were young and me when they were much older, we haven’t gotten on since my mama passed away,” Bonnie says, sadness lacing her tone.

  “Did you get on before that?” Alice asks, amazing me that she’s asking a question rather than ending the conversation as soon as possible.

  “Yeah, I guess so, he’s so much older than me, so he was married and moved out before I was born, but I love his wife and they did stuff with me when I was little. He thinks because our daddy is older that he has to take responsibility for me, but I haven’t been a kid in a really long time. He’s resentful of me, but I don’t really understand why,” Bonnie tells her, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve heard her talk about her relationship with her brother. I knew it was strained, that they weren’t sure if he would come to their wedding, but hearing her talk about it now, I can see how much it upsets her.

  “My sister took care of me when we were kids. Dad was out of the picture and our mom was always more interested in whichever boyfriend or husband she was with at the time to pay much attention to her kids. Serenity was basically my mom, even though she’s only five years older than me. I guess I never understood how much that ruined her childhood until she left as soon as she graduated high school. I’m glad she’s happy and living her own life now.”

  My throat thickens with emotion as I listen to Alice talk about her sister and the way she grew up. Her sister basically raised her, then she just left and from what I can piece together from the little Alice has told me, she hasn’t seen her since. Maybe that explains a little about why she’s resistant to form attachments? Or maybe I’m over thinking this and Alice just doesn’t like people, I don’t know. Either way, it’s nice to know a little bit more about the woman I’m falling for.

  “You’re not close with your mama?” Bonnie asks.

  “No, I was close to my Gram Gram, we lived with her and Pops for a while when my dad first left, but they’ve both passed now.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s hard losing the people you love,” Bonnie says knowingly.

  “Yeah, it is. My pops went first, then Gram Gram died of a broken heart, she couldn’t live without him. We lived on the other side of the country at the time and didn’t get to go to the funeral,” Alice tells her as I stay silent, not wanting to speak and interrupt my woman happily and opening conversing around me for the first time.

  Bonnie’s dad’s house comes into view and the conversation ends. I wish I could push the house further away, I’ve learned more about Alice in the last few minutes than I’ve managed to pry from her before now, and I want to know more. I want to know everything.

  Everyone we pass waves and greets Bonnie and Beau as we walk down past the house and to the large bunkhouse behind the barns. All the single ranch hands live on-site in the bunkhouse, while the married ones live in the small houses closer to the main entrance. Hal takes care of his staff, which is probably why some of them have worked here for decades.

  Bonnie leaves the larger of the two trays in the bunkhouse kitchen, then carries the smaller tray around to her dad’s office. “Hey daddy,” she calls as she pushes into the small untidy room.

  “Hey sweetheart,” he says. “Beau, Granger.”

  “Hi Hal, I’d like you to meet Alice Lowe,” I say, curling my arm around Alice’s waist possessively.

  Hal’s brows lift in surprise, but he just smiles, pushes out of his seat and crosses the room to us. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alice.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Sir.”

  “Call me Hal.”

  “Hal,” Alice says quietly.

  “Well, what can I do for you all?” Hal asks.

  “I baked, thought you’d want a muffin before I take the rest out to the guys.”

  “Oh, banana-pecan?”

  “Blueberry,” Bonnie sighs, rolling her eyes.

  Hal shrugs. “Still good.” He reaches out and plucks a muffin from the tray.

  “I’ll go take these ones out to the barn, it’s break time,” Bonnie says, leaving the office with Beau following on behind.

  “Why don’t you take Miss Alice out to the back pasture, Cornflower just had her foal,” Hal suggests.

  “Bonnie said you wanted me to see about your table?”

  Hal waves me off. “It’s survived thirty years, it’ll survive a few more days, I’ll have one of the guys bring it down to the workshop.”

  I nod. “Come on,” I say, linking my fingers through Alice’s and pulling her from the office. She doesn’t argue, just lets me pull her along behind me until we’re outside again and I release her hand, curling my arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to me.

  The pasture where the mare and foal are grazing is hidden behind the bunk house. Since Bonnie and Beau got together, we’ve pitched in a few times when Hal’s needed extra help, so I know my way around pretty well.

  “Oh, she’s beautiful,” Alice gasps, pulling away from my hold to rush to the post and rail fencing that surrounds the small paddock Cornflower and her pure white foal are grazing on.

  Her hands are wrapped around the top rail, her body leaning forward as she watches the beautiful chestnut horse and her baby. Unable to resist, I move behind her, pressing my front against her back and caging her in with my arms resting on the rail on either side of hers.

  She stiffens and I lean in and press a soft kiss against the side of her neck, scrapping my teeth over the same spot a moment later. A fine tremor shudders through her body and I kiss her again, immediately replacing my lips with my teeth.

  Her lips part, but she doesn’t make a noise. Lifting one of my arms from the fence, I wrap it around her waist, pushing my hand under her jacket and toying with the waistband of her jeans.

  My lips continue kissing, then nipping at her neck and she silently arches into my touch. I know I shouldn’t, we could be seen, but I ease my fingers into her pants and under her panties, sliding down until I’m cupping her sex, the heat of her pussy seeping into my skin.

  11

  Alice

  His fingers slowly part my folds until he’s toying with my entrance, teasing me, dipping the tip of a single finger into me before pulling back. We’re out in the open, anyone could see, but I don’t seem to be able to muster up enough good sense to care.

  “Your pussy is greedy for my fingers isn’t it, honey?”

  His voice is as sweet and smooth as good whiskey and instead of pushing him away, I part my legs, silently pleading with him to touch me.

  “Such a good girl,” he coos against my neck, the slight hint of pain every time he scraps his teeth over the skin he’s just kissed, driving me a little crazier with each touch.

  A single finger slides inside of me and I gasp, closing my eyes and thanking every God that’s up there that my pants are stretchy enough that he can move.

  “Is all this wetness for me? Is your greedy pussy weeping for my fingers. Do you need more?”

  I can’t speak. I can’t ask him to bend me over this fence and fuck me, even though that’s exactly what I want.

  A second finger enters me, pumping in and out of my sex in slow, shallo
w thrusts that only make me want more.

  “So wet, your sticky juices are coating my hand. I think you need more, I think you want me to fuck you with my hand, I think you want to ride my fingers like they were my dick.”

  A choked sound escapes my throat and I feel his lips smile against my neck. “Such a dirty girl. Say please.”

  “Please,” I pant.

  A third finger slides into my core and I push up onto my tiptoes as he stretches me, filling me, fucking me with his fingers.

  “I want you to come for me, Alice. I want to feel your pussy gush onto my hand,” he orders, his voice feral and rough, all of the calm authority I’ve gotten used to gone and replaced with barely restrained need.

  The heel of his hand presses against my clit as he fingers me, fast and hard and I come on a cry, burying my face into my shoulder as I desperately try to muffle the sounds of my orgasm. My body is still shuddering with release when his fingers are ripped out of me and he’s grabbing me around the waist and carrying me away from the field and into a barn.

  Opening a stable door, he marches inside, unceremoniously drops me to the floor, and bends me at the waist as he drags my jeans and panties down. His feet kick my legs apart, and I barely have time to lift my hands and brace my arms against the wall before his dick is slamming into me. He’s fucking me hard, the sound of his flesh slapping against mine filling the empty space.

  “Mine, this cunt is mine,” he growls, his hands holding my hips as he forces me back to meet every single one of his brutal thrusts, dragging me onto his cock as he fills me.

  I orgasm spontaneously without warning and his damp hand covers my lips. He forces two fingers into my mouth and I taste my own arousal.

  “Suck them, clean your cum off my fingers,” he demands, and I do as he says, completely unable to defy him. I suck and lick while he fucks another orgasm from me with no finesse, just brutal force that completely overwhelms me, until I feel like I belong to him, just like he keeps telling me I do.

  With one last thrust, he slams into me as deep as he can go and growls, low and long, his cock twitching inside of me. Sliding his fingers from between my lips, he gathers my hair into his fist and pulls me back, turning my head so he can press a kiss to my mouth.

  “I like the taste of your pussy on your lips,” he smiles, kissing me again, filling my mouth with his tongue.

  I’m too lost, too overwhelmed with shock and need and pleasure to respond. The fumbling touches of the couple of boys I’ve had sex with before now, were nothing like the confident, sure way Granger takes me. Were my back seat disappointment’s the exception or the rule? Is sex normally like what’s happening between me and Granger? Is that why people are always doing it, or looking for it? Have I been blinded by my unfortunate experiences? Instead of avoiding sex, if it’s always like this should I have been indulging instead?

  “God, honey, the way you feel,” Granger says, pulling his hips back and slowly pushing into me again. “I want to live in this pussy, I’d die a fucking happy man.”

  “Is it always like this?” I force out.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Never, I’ve never felt anything like this before. Mine, you’re mine, that’s why it’s this perfect, why it’s this intense, this desperate.”

  Tensing, I try to ignore his words, even though I’m starting to believe him. If this isn’t how it normally feels, if sex isn’t normally like this, then is this weird fate thing he keeps talking about real? Or is he just pushing his fantasies onto me in an attempt to make me fall for his pretty words?

  I don’t know. All I do know is that for the first time in a very long time, instead of wanting to run, I want to stay.

  I’m not sure how long we stay there, both of us only naked from the waist down, my hands braced against the wooden stall wall, his fist wrapped around my hair. But when he slowly slides his dick from inside of me, curls his arm around my waist and slowly pulls me up until my back is pressed against his, my limbs feel stiff.

  “I want you again already,” he growls, his voice sounding like a confession. Turning me in his arms, he cups my face with one hand and stares down intently into my eyes. “I want to see you on your knees with my cock between your lips. I want to fuck you in every position, beneath me, riding me, bent over. I don’t want there to be an inch of you I haven’t touched, licked, kissed. I want to own all of you, your mouth, your pussy, your tight ass. I’m obsessed and it’s been two days, this is more than fate, it’s madness and I can’t wait to slip into oblivion with you.”

  His words and the way he’s looking at me stuns me to silence, even though I have a thousand things to say. That I want him too, that I feel the madness, but that I can’t, that I won’t, that I shouldn’t embrace it. But I don’t say anything, and instead when he leans down and kisses me, I kiss him back.

  “Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?” His fingers find my soaked, dripping sex and he carefully slides a single finger into me.

  “No.”

  “We haven’t used condoms, I don’t plan to either, I won’t have anything between us. I’m clean, I wouldn’t ever put you at risk like that.”

  “I’m clean too.”

  He nods and smiles, his finger slowly pumping into me. I wait for him to ask me about birth control, but he doesn’t and that bugs me. I could be pregnant, he should be worried.

  “I have the birth control implant fitted.”

  The smile on his face wavers a bit, as if… is he disappointed?

  “Can you take me again? I can’t get enough of you,” he laughs, leaning forward and capturing my lips with his.

  I part my lips to tell him yes, that somehow, he’s made me as needy as him, but then the barn doors open and male voices fill the air. In seconds he’s pulled my panties and jeans back up and tucked his dick away, but he doesn’t turn to leave, instead he backs me up to the wall I was braced against earlier. “Open,” he orders, tapping at my lower lip with his finger tip.

  I part my lips as if he’s moving me around with strings and he slides his fingers back into my mouth. “Suck.”

  Closing my lips around him, I suck.

  “My cum and yours, how do we taste?” he smiles, dragging his fingers from my mouth and pushing them into his own. “Fucking delicious.”

  More voices fill the barn. “Come on, let’s go take a nap before we go to the festival tonight, I want you naked and in my arms.”

  Shellshocked and with no real desire to resist, I let him pull me under his arm and sneak me out the small door we came in through without anyone in the barn ever noticing we’re there, then he spends the rest of the walk back to his house, telling me all the dirty, delicious things he wants to do to me.

  “Go get naked, honey, I’ll grabs us some drinks and snacks and I’ll be there in a minute,” he says, tapping my butt playfully as we enter his house.

  “Nice walk?” one of his brothers asks.

  “Yes thanks, one of the horses has had a foal,” I answer, and it’s like all of a sudden, the world of lust and sex and orgasms he’s surrounded us in shatters around me and I fall to earth with a thump. I don’t know how Granger’s managed to wrap me up in this pretend world he’s created, but until this moment I didn’t realize how much I was falling for it, how ingratiated I’d allowed myself to become with the fantasy he’s created for us.

  I’m not the girl who gets the guy. I’m not the girl who inherits a huge family that love and support me. I’m not the girl who gets a home and security.

  No.

  I move around, living alone so that my poison doesn’t affect those around me. I never get close to anyone so I’m not tempted to allow myself to turn into the needy, pathetic woman who becomes a burden to anyone who offers me even an ounce of niceness. I’m the girl who alienates people who try to be friendly, because within hours of meeting me they see me for who I really am.

  No.

  It doesn’t matter how pretty a picture Granger paints for me
, none of this imaginary future he’s created can ever come true, because he might be the white knight, but I’m not the damsel in distress. I’m the crone, the poisoned apple, the dagger. I’m the one who sucks the joy and life of those around her.

  I can’t and won’t do that to Granger.

  I’m fairly sure someone speaks to me, but I don’t answer. I need to get away, to hide while I rebuild the walls Granger’s managed to knock down. Pushing open the door to his bedroom, I wish I could take my stuff back to the guest room, but if I do, I know he’ll just come and fetch me. I promised him this weekend, and I know he won’t let me back out, even if I tell him the truth about who I am.

  Spotting my duffel bag, I move toward it, open it and pull out my cell and charger. I try to remember to keep the battery alive, but because I don’t really use it, I tend to forget to check how much charge it has, and so most the time it’s dead. Today I’m in luck and it still has ten percent. Plugging the charger in, I put it on charge and then sit on the bed and pull up google. It doesn’t take me long to find a list of local RV’s for sale and I slowly start to sift through the ads.

  I work a lot and my life style is pretty cheap so I have over fifty thousand dollars saved in my bank. I’d rather not spend it all on a new RV but right now, I’d spend every penny if it means I can get away from here and the promise of a future that can never happen, no matter how much I might want it to.

  The door opens and Granger walks in, his arms laden with bottles of water, beer and snacks. “I thought I told you to get naked, you’ve got far too many clothes on.”

  “I’m not really tired, I should go hang out in the guest room,” I suggest, hoping he’ll say yes.

  “Where you are, is where I want to be and would you look at that, you’re on my bed,” he says playfully, placing his bounty on the dresser and slowly stalking me onto the bed.

  “You don’t need these,” he says, pulling first one boot off then the second. “Or this,” he smiles, taking my cell, glancing at the RV’s on the screen with a frown, then placing it on the bedside cabinet before pulling my jacket, then the sweater he gave me off. “These are definitely in the way,” he smirks, peeling my jeans down and off. “And this needs to go.” My shirt is dragged over my head, leaving me in just my bra and panties. “Much better.” He smiles, leaning back to assess me. “Oh no,” he mock gasps, unclasping my bra with one deft twist of his fingers. “Your bra popped, might as well take it off.”