Billionaire Mountain Man

by Claire Adams

  "I thought you were a high maintenance princess. That you'd break a nail up here, cry, and demand I take you back down to the town in the snow." She laughed.

  "Aren’t you glad you were wrong?" she asked, smiling at me. I was. I had been anxious about staying with her for a number of reasons; at the top of the list was how strongly I was attracted to her but close behind was how I'd deal with a diva if she turned out to be one. Sharing my space in general with someone who I didn't want there and who didn't want to be there either. It had worked out, I guessed. As well as it could have. She probably wished she was at her place where she had access to heat and a hairdryer, but she was here with me and, from what I could tell, didn't hate it.

  I was glad it was her. I was happy that I’d had a chance to be proven wrong about who she was. I hadn’t had many expectations going into this but couldn't be mad at how it had turned out. I was getting several days out here with a beautiful woman I otherwise never would have spoken to. The back of the house was completely covered in white. The snow was at least two feet deep in places. We headed back inside when it started coming down again.

  "Is it still coming down?"

  "Not much but yeah," she said from the window, looking outside. I was setting my bed up for the night on the couch. It had been a couple hours since dinner, and we were both ready to turn in. "It's a lot worse than I thought it would be." I went over and looked. The snowfall was light, but it was still falling. In the morning, there would be a fresh carpet of snow on everything.

  "It think it's colder than last night too," she said. Was it? Maybe I was just getting used to the cold.

  "I'll add a couple logs to the fire," I said. "Are you going to be okay?" She said that she would. She headed up the stairs to the loft while I adjusted the fire. We were good on wood if we kept using it at the current rate, but if the temperature dropped and we needed more, we would have a problem on our hands. Natalie had told me a story about how her dad had had to go out for firewood in the winter. It wasn't impossible, but it was the worst time to harvest wood, not to mention the most dangerous.

  "Cameron?" I turned, looking over my shoulder at her. She was at the foot of the steps, standing with her arms crossed. "Do you want to come up?"

  "To the loft?"

  "Yeah. I mean," she shrugged, "I feel kind of bad for taking your bed from you. It's big enough for the both of us, and it's cold tonight so," she shrugged again.

  "Are you sure?" I asked. She nodded, turned, and went up to the loft. I followed her, swallowing. My mind went to one place, and I hated myself for it. Her body that morning in the mirror. I didn't know whether this was a good idea, but my legs look me up the stairs to the loft. She was already in the bed, facing the wall. I turned the light out and got in the other side. The bed was big, she was right, but she didn't have to be close to me to feel her there.

  It didn't matter where she was, I felt her.

  "Goodnight," I said quietly.

  "Goodnight," she replied. I didn't move. I didn't think. I hardly breathed. If I had been tired before, I wasn’t anymore. I had imagined being able to be this close to Natalie the past couple nights, what I would do to her… how her lips would feel wrapped around my…fuck. I felt myself getting hard. She sighed from beside me. I felt her move. She was still awake. Down boy, I thought, trying to keep it together. We were adults, not wild animals. If the situation had been different, maybe I wouldn’t have had to keep it reeled in, but I could be a gentleman tonight Could be? I had to be. If she wakes up with your hard-on poking her in the back, she’ll run down that mountain to get away from you.

  Some time passed, could have been a minute, maybe an hour, but she moved again, and then I felt her. I was on my back. She was so close I could feel the heat coming off of her. I turned to look at her, making out the shape of her body in the dark. This was a disaster; why did I ever think I'd be able to do this? I reached out and touched her, ran my hand down her arm, turning so I was facing her body. She pushed her back into my chest. I slid my hand under the covers and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her into me.

  She turned, twisting her head around so she looked at me. In the dark, our eyes found each other. I took my arm from around her and cupped her face. She didn't flinch or try get away from my touch. That was enough for me. I kissed her. Our lips met, and she moved suddenly, maneuvering herself on top of me. I sat up as she straddled my lap, kissing her again, cupping her face as my mouth and tongue tasted her for the first time.

  It was like that release you got after holding tight to something and finally being able to let go. Finally. I kissed her desperately. Her fingers wound through my hair. My hands cupped her ass, pulling her in closer to me. I slid them up under her layers, to her smooth skin underneath. I was already hard, rising between us. It would be so easy, so fucking easy, but I had to reel it in. I pulled away, looking at her.

  "Natalie?" it was dark. I couldn't really see her. There wasn’t enough light for me to read her face. I needed her to know that if she wasn't sure, she needed to stop me because I didn't know how well I'd be able to stop myself.

  "No," she said, pulling the sweater she was wearing over her long-sleeved t-shirt off over her head. "I want you. Please." I kissed her, sliding my hands under the shirt and helping her out of it. I threw it on the far side of the bed and buried my face in her chest. Her skin burned hot under my hands and mouth. She sighed, feeling my mouth on one of her nipples. I cupped her other full, round breast in my hand, tweaking her other one.

  Even more perfect than I had imagined. I wrapped an arm around her and lowered her to the bed, getting on top of her. The little light there was reflected off her ivory skin. If her coming up here after me had led to this, I owed her a lot more than just a thank you.

  Chapter Twenty

  Natalie

  "Cameron... Ca—" my words caught in my throat as I moaned. My hips bucked forward, but he held me down to the bed. He groaned, licking and sucking my sensitive folds. Two of his fingers pushed into me, thrusting in and out rhythmically. I ran my fingers through his soft, messy hair, writhing as he pleasured me.

  How long had it taken? How long had I been able to take his presence right there in the bed next to me before I had snapped? My entire body was in flames. Lying there in the dark, I had felt bold, confident that he had come to the bed and hadn't rejected me. When I felt him touch me, I hadn't been able to resist. It all bubbled up, everything we, at least I, had been trying to tamp down.

  The sounds he made between my legs were obscene. The scruff on his cheeks rasped against the smooth skin of my inner thighs. His tongue lashed against my clit. I couldn't move. His arms held my hips down. Nothing from my imagination had come close to the reality of him. My body soared. I was helpless against the coming wave when it crashed. I cried out as it washed over me, radiating out from my core through my entire body.

  He kissed the inside of one of my thighs, moving up my body. I felt his lips on my stomach, my chest and then my mouth. He kissed me hungrily. He groaned as our tongues danced. I grabbed at his sweater; I wanted it gone. I wanted to touch him. I ached to. It wasn't enough yet. Not until I pushed him over the edge too.

  "Take this off," I whispered. He raised himself off of me, sitting up on his knees. I saw the silhouette of him in the dark, pulling his sweater off over his head. I wished I could see him, really see him, but there wasn’t enough light. He took the rest of his clothes off and got back between my thighs. I ran my hands over his shoulders and back shamelessly. Warm skin pulled over rock-hard muscle. I was already aching for him to touch me again, greedy.

  Speaking of rock hard, he was ready. I reached my hand down between our bodies as he kissed me and felt his arousal.

  "Fuck," he said under his breath. My fingers ran over his sensitive crown, down his length to his balls. "Natalie, I'm clean. I swear, but I don't have protection."

  "It's okay," I said hastily, pressing the head of his cock against my opening. "Just don't cum inside m
e."

  "Natalie—”

  "Please, Cameron. I want you," I begged. He responded by driving powerfully into me, hilting himself in one savage thrust. I cried out, a mixture of shock and pleasure. My lips stretched to accommodate him. The sudden invasion of fullness was delicious. His weight on top of me and hard length inside me were perfect.

  "Again," he said. He took my arms by the wrists and held them together on the pillow above my head, held fast in one of his hands. "Say it again. Beg me."

  "Please, Cameron," I said. He thrust into me, long and steady. I closed my eyes. It was ecstasy. Pleasure coursed through me like electricity. I whispered, begging him not to stop. I was a mess, writhing and wanton beneath him. Desperate for my release but relishing his intimate contact. He kissed my neck, rolled my nipples between his fingers, and found every trigger point on my body that made me squirm.

  I balled my fists, wishing I could touch him. I felt the familiar rise in my core and fought it as hard as I could. Not yet. I wanted more. I wanted everything at once. I whimpered, getting closer and closer, ‘til it hit. I cried out, arching my back. Spasms shot through me. He said something; I heard his voice but not his words. I felt him though. His thrusts became faster, erratic. He released my trapped wrists and held his weight up on his hands.

  "Natalie, I'm going to come," he said. His voice was thick with strain. He pulled out of me suddenly and cursed, groaning as he spilled his load on my lower stomach. He panted, leaning back down and kissing me. One of his hands ran through my hair, over my forehead, unsticking the strands that had gotten caught there because I was sweating. We were silent then for a few moments. He was on his side next to me, I listened to his breathing slow and finally normalize. One of his arms was casually thrown over my waist. He tightened it when I tried to move.

  "You're not asleep?"

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "The bathroom. I'll be right back," I told him. The bed and our body heat had kept me from realizing how cold it was without my clothes on. I hurried down to the bathroom in the dark; the light when I turned it on hurt my eyes briefly before I adjusted to it. I caught my reflection in the mirror, and my stomach dropped. Nobody would have to ask what I had been up to that night. The evidence was right there, painted on my belly. We were both adults. This hadn't been anyone's first time doing anything. I was alone in the bathroom but felt guilt all of a sudden, like someone was watching me. I quickly cleaned myself off.

  Suddenly, it wasn't hot; it wasn't passionate and sexy. It was lewd. I felt shameful. What the hell had I just done? Invited a man to my bed and thrown myself at him. And not just any man. The guilt washing over me wouldn't have been half as bad if it had been anyone else, but this was Cameron.

  Your dead boss' son; how did it feel, slut?

  I cursed, running my hands through my hair. What have I done? You stupid bitch, what did you just do?

  A knock on the door startled me.

  "You okay, Nat?" he asked. I opened it up a tiny bit and saw Cameron, shirtless. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. He had tattoos. Not just one or two either. His left arm was covered from shoulder to the middle of his forearm, and the ink continued across his chest. His long-sleeved dress shirts and jackets at work had always kept them covered and here, all the sweaters and winter clothes had.

  There was enough light to finally see the defined, hard muscles I had felt in the bed earlier. He really is beautiful, I thought, making the guilt worse. There was probably an entire legion of women and honestly, a lot of men too who would have killed to take a bite out of Cameron Porter, people who actually deserved that body, that sweet, kind nature. People who wouldn’t have tried to seduce him weeks after he had lost his parents.

  Fuck.

  “Sorry, did you want to come in?” I asked.

  He held my clothes out to me. "I made some hot cocoa; I thought you might want these." I took them, thanking him.

  "I'll be right out," I said weakly, closing the door again. I dressed, cursing. Make it worse by being sweet to me after instead of just rolling over and going to sleep, I thought irrationally. The guy you just threw yourself at is actually sweet; congratulations, bitch. He’s been through hell these past few weeks, but just made you hot cocoa after giving you not one, but two earth-shattering orgasms. He wasn't the one who was wrong here. I was, and I couldn't be mad at him for being a decent guy who cared enough to look a girl in the eye again after fucking her.

  Fuck me. Fuck everything.

  I walked out. The kitchen light was on, and the fire was roaring in the fireplace with newly placed logs.

  "Hey," he said, getting up from the couch and walking over to me. He cupped my face so I had to look up at him. "Is everything okay?" He was still shirtless, and it was a little distracting, but I nodded my head, swallowing. He kissed me, searching my face. His hazel eyes were worried. Lines creased his forehead.

  "I'm okay," I said to reassure him. I leaned in and kissed him back. His hand went to the back of my neck. My heart was pounding so hard I worried he could feel it.

  "Come on," he said, taking my hand and leading me to the couch. There were two cups of hot cocoa on the floor. He picked one up and handed it to me as we sat. He put an arm around me, holding me close. It was nice. No amount of guilt would make me deny that. I pushed it away, sipping my hot cocoa, feeling his hand brush through my hair. When we had had sex, everything around us had disappeared, and he had been all I felt. I tried to do it again, on the couch with him. It was just us. There was nothing wrong; it was just us.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cameron

  I was cold; that was what woke me up. I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Why was I up here... oh, right. I had slept in the bed last night. Well, we had fallen asleep eventually; other things had happened first. I scrubbed a hand over my face and stretched. I felt good. Great, actually. That might have been one of the best nights that I had ever had. It was good being back in the bed after the last couple nights on the couch, but it might have been my partner last night that had really done the trick.

  She must have been up already. I was alone in the bed. I got up, looking around the loft. Where was she? I would have thought downstairs, but I couldn't hear anything.

  "Natalie?" I called. No answer. Maybe she was in the bathroom, I thought. Taking a phone call outside perhaps. I looked around the loft. I hadn't really come up here since giving it over to her to use while she was here. Where did she put her clothes? I knew that she had had some, but I couldn't see them anywhere. I checked the dresser and closet where my stuff was, but it wasn't in there. Weird.

  "Natalie?" I called again, coming down the stairs. She wasn't in the kitchen or the bathroom when I checked. I unlocked the deck and looked out there too but nothing. Where the hell was she, I asked myself, opening the front door and looking out on the porch. I heard a car—her car.

  I could just make her out behind the wheel as the car pulled out and she started down the driveway towards the road.

  "Shit," I said, running out to the porch. I called to her, but she didn't hear me. Where the hell did she—

  I stopped. She turned out onto the road, and her wheels gave out, sliding across the ice, off the road towards the trees lining it on one side. I ran inside to get some shoes on and hurried back outside. I ran out onto the road to her car. It seemed alright; it wasn’t smoking or on fire or anything. No apparent damage. It had skidded on the ice and gotten lodged in the snowbank by the side of the road. If that hadn’t stopped it, ramming sidelong into the trees would have. Her door was open; I went over to help her out.

  She seemed okay too, apart from the fact that she apparently thought that she’d be able to get anywhere in her car. The ice and snow were inches thick; hadn't she said herself that I'd need a snowmobile up here to get around?

  "What the hell, Natalie? What were you doing? What the fuck were you thinking?" I asked, getting her out of the car. She looked at it, stuck in the snow, and cur
sed.

  "I'm sorry," she said, looking down. "I just..."

  "You just what? What happened?"

  "Last night? What we did? It was a mistake, Cameron." Mistake? I was pretty sure it had been the best night I had had in a long time.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I shouldn't have asked you to come to the bed. I shouldn't have come onto you."

  "Come onto me?" I asked. I was pretty sure I had been the one who had made a pass at her, not the other way around. Who had done what wasn't important right then. She was upset, so upset she had driven her car off the road trying to...shit. Had she been trying to get away from me?

  "You're Mr. Porter’s son. I shouldn't have," she stopped and cursed, burying her face in her hands.

  "Hey, Natalie," I said, taking her wrists and pulling her hands away from her face. Shit, was she about to cry? I didn't want that. This wasn't as serious as she thought it was. I didn't want her to feel bad. She looked at me and sighed.

  "Your dad was my boss. This isn't supposed to happen. You and I last night wasn't supposed to happen." She had been saying something very different last night, I thought, remembering the two of us in bed. She had been more than eager to get the ball rolling the night before. I’d never forget her begging for my cock, moaning as I fucked her. You didn’t go from that to this in a matter of eight hours. She needed to cool it. Maybe she thought her job was in trouble or something. I tried to calm her down.

  "It's not that serious, Nat," I said.

  "Yes, yes, it is," she insisted. She was getting upset.

  "Okay. Okay. Let's... let's just get you back in the house first, alright?"

  She grudgingly let me lead her back into the cabin. Well… good morning to me, I guessed. After the night we had had, I had been expecting something different, let’s say that. Best case scenario would have been waking up to her with my cock in her mouth, but I would have settled for some coffee and the woman I had just slept with not trying to walk out on me before I had gotten up. In the beginning, I had felt a little iffy about making a move too. I could get that. But now it had happened, and it had been incredible. Every move I had made, she had responded to. Every word, every touch, and now this. She had tried to run away. Literally.