Big Mountain Daddy
Page 3
“And what do you do?”
“Taught school,” she says, laughing. “For years I taught the little idiots that live around here.”
I grin at that. “What grade?”
“Fifth. Little idiots.” Her smile makes that phrase sound almost loving and fond.
She talks more about her life as we drive away from town. After a half hour, there’s only wilderness around us, and there aren’t any other cars on the road. It’s increasingly rough and we’re winding upwards, climbing into the foothills. There are tons of peaks around us, but the biggest is straight ahead, and I know that has to be Remmel.
Shelly asks about me, and I’m honest with her. I tell her that I’m a journalist, here to do a story on Ethan. She makes an odd little noise at that, but doesn’t press it any further. She asks about my parents, where I grew up, all that good stuff. She talks about the good old days, back before tourists came stomping around the forests, back when people were real, good, hearty people, as opposed to whatever they are now. Soft and pathetic, probably.
We get closer and closer to Remmel, and soon we’re driving down a dirt road. We’ve been driving for nearly two hours before she finally nods ahead.
“Up there,” she says.
I squint ahead. As far as I can tell, we’re heading toward a large rocky cliff wall at the base of Remmel, but there’s nothing around for miles. There’s a little lake off to our right, and a high cliff pass to the left, plus evergreen trees everywhere.
“I don’t see a house,” I say.
She grins. “That’s on purpose. Look, smoke.”
I follow her gaze and squint a little bit, and then suddenly I spot it. Smoke, curling up into the air, coming from seemingly nowhere. Until…
We get a little closer and I take a sharp breath. What I mistook for part of the cliff is actually a house. I have to blink and stare at it for a second before I really understand what the heck I’m looking at, but sure enough, it’s a house.
“Built to blend in,” she says, grinning. “He paid a fortune for that thing.”
“He really doesn’t want to be found,” I say softly.
“No, he doesn’t.” She gives me a look and sighs. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Okay,” I say. The sun’s starting to set and I suddenly realize that I didn’t bring any luggage with me.
“There’s a storm coming. Could be a bad one. Don’t stay here.”
“Don’t stay here?” I ask, and laugh a little. “Why, is he some kind of serial killer?”
She sighs, shaking her head. “No, of course not. But, well…”
She trails off, and I expect her to start talking again, but she doesn’t. After a minute I have to prod her a bit. “Well, what?”
“He’s damaged,” she says softly. “A good man, but he’s been through things. Why else does a good man come hide up in the mountains?”
I bite my lip, but I decide not to press any further, and she doesn’t talk more. We finally pull up a long driveway and park out front of the building, what is clearly a house, with smoke curling from a chimney. It really is built to blend in with the surroundings, all strange, jagged lines, and I would never, ever have guessed that someone lives here, at least from far off. Up close, I can see familiar structures; windows, doors, lights, all the normal markers of a home.
We stop and I sit there for a second. I’m suddenly intensely aware that there’s nobody else around for miles. We haven’t seen a single car in the last forty minutes, and there haven’t been any buildings for a half hour. And we were driving pretty fast. I’m out in the middle of nowhere, about to go tell a man I barely know that I’m pregnant. I’m suddenly afraid.
“He’s not a serial killer,” Shelly says finally. “He’s a good man. If you get snowed in, he’ll take care of you until it thaws.”
“How long could that take?” I ask her.
She laughs. “Who knows? A day, a week, a month.”
Fear tingles down my spine again. “A month?” I say hoarsely.
She shrugs. “You said you wanted to come, and here you are. Not too late to turn around.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I came this far.”
“Good.” She smiles. “Tell him I say hi. And watch out for Jones.”
“Thanks. And thanks for the ride.”
“Any time.” As I climb out, she stops me. “There’s a couple bags in the back, fresh groceries. You mind bringing them in?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good girl.”
I walk around to the truck bed and pull out the bags. As I head up to the house, Shelly waves, and slowly pulls out.
I’m totally alone now. I’ve traveled a long time and really far for this moment, and now I’m suddenly afraid. I remember him from that night, how he was both gentle and intense. He made me feel things I never imagined, pushed my body’s boundaries, and I’ve been craving more. Like a junky, all I can think about is Ethan’s thick cock, spreading me wide, making me come.
Now that I’m here… I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can tell him the truth. Fear spikes through me again, and suddenly a garage door starts opening. I have the irrational desire to run, and I almost do, but suddenly he’s there. Ethan stands in the garage, looking out at me, with a strange smile on his face.
And before I can say anything, a black dog comes running out at me.
I drop the groceries as he launches himself at my legs. He doesn’t bark, doesn’t make a noise. He’s trying to lick me and rub himself against me, and I can’t help but laugh. Suddenly all my fear evaporates as this adorable black lab prances in front of me. I pet him, scratch his ears, and pat his side as Ethan walks over.
“You have Jones’s approval,” he says. “Guess you can come inside.”
I look up at him and he’s as handsome as I remember, maybe even more. He’s dressed in a similar outfit, faded jeans and a beat-up flannel shirt. He turns and heads back inside, and Jones follows him.
Slowly I pick up the grocery bags and follow him in, not sure what I’m getting myself into, but not willing to back down from a challenge.
4
Ethan
I didn’t really think it would be her. I don’t know why, but I didn’t really believe Shelly when she called and said that Mia was in town looking for me. I imagined it was some kind of elaborate hoax, but I was wrong, so fucking wrong.
Mia follows me into the kitchen. Jones dances around her and she’s good with him, which makes me smile despite myself. Jones doesn’t always love everyone, although he’s a friendly dog, he just doesn’t always take to someone. He’s clearly smitten with Mia though. She fits whatever doggy criteria he has in his little brain, some kind of smell, some kind of instinct. Although it’s probably random, I can’t help but think that anyone he likes is a good person, and anyone he ignores is somehow flawed.
Mia hefts the bags up onto the counter and then looks around the house, eyes wide. “You live here?” she asks, and I laugh.
“Yep, me and Jones here,” I say.
“You live here all alone?”
I laugh again. “I thought you were writing a profile on me.”
“I mean…” She makes a little face. “I thought it was exaggerated.”
“Not exaggerated,” I say, “as you can see. If anything, I think I downplayed it.”
“You’re not kidding. Who’s your closest neighbor?”
“That’d be Shelly,” I say, “She’s about an hour that way.” I point toward the southwest, back toward town.
“An hour?” she whispers.
“I’m a solitary man.” I grin at her and start to go through the bags. Shelly must be worried about the storm if she sent in fresh food with Mia. I stock vegetables into the refrigerator while Mia starts to explore the living room. She stands over near the enormous windows overlooking the valley and the lake, looking out at the same view I always see. I wish I could see her reflection, since it really is a gorgeous view, especially whe
n you see it for the first time.
When I’m done, I stand and look at her for a second. Mia’s gorgeous, absolutely stunning, although it feels really strange to have a woman in my house. I don’t think I’ve had anyone but Shelly in here, and she doesn’t count. Mia slowly turns back to me, a huge smile on her face.
“It’s gorgeous,” she says. The sun’s setting and the light stretches golden orange across the valley, making the evergreens look like they’re on fire.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Maybe you can see why I stay out here?”
“Maybe,” she says. “How much of this is yours, anyway?”
“I own a bit of it,” I say, downplaying it a bit. In truth, I own about fifty acres, although I can’t really take care of all that. I mostly just let it go wild and leave it all to Jones.
“Come on,” I say to Mia. “I’ll show you around.”
She nods and follows me as we head back outside. Jones lets out a little bark and runs off into the trees.
“Is it okay if he does that?” she asks.
“Sure,” I say. “These woods belong to him. He won’t go far.”
We head up a short little path that skirts toward the mountain. We move through the evergreens in silence, and I can’t help but glance at her. I keep thinking about that night we had together, the way she felt wrapped around my big cock. I want to dominate her again, taste her pussy, but I suspect that’s not why she came all the way out here.
I don’t try to push her. We hike up behind my house, up onto the ridge, and I point south. “That’s Lake Rigs,” I say. “No clue why it has that name. There are hiking trails just over there, about a half mile that way.” I point north, toward Remmel. “The peak’s around 4,000 feet up, one of the highest in the state.”
“Is that why you’re here?” she asks, smiling. “You like big peaks?”
I grin at her. “No, I think you’re the one that likes big peaks. I like it for the solitude.”
“I don’t think you know what I like,” she says, smiling and looking away.
“I think I seem to recall you sweating and begging for more. So maybe I have a pretty good idea.”
I laugh as she shoots me an angry look, but quickly looks away. We keep walking and I point out a few other things: storage shed, little garden I plant in the spring, a half-finished table I was making last year, other wood scrap projects I’ve started and stopped and left to weather.
“So that’s what you do now?” she asks. “You do some woodworking projects and walk around the woods?”
“Pretty much,” I say, shrugging. “Could be worse.”
“Could be,” she says, shaking her head. “What are you doing out here, Ethan?”
I laugh and grin at her. “I want to ask you the same question, you know.”
She takes a sharp breath and looks away. For a second, she looks like she wants to say something painful, but instead she just shakes her head. “You forced my hand.”
“I did?”
“You gave me nothing,” she says, turning to face me. “Murray wants an interview, a real interview, and he sent me out here to get it.”
I blink, surprised. Murray didn’t mention anything about that… but I haven’t exactly gotten in touch with him in a while. I wouldn’t put it past him, sending her out here like this.
Poor girl, probably doesn’t know what she got herself into.
“So you’re here for an interview,” I say softly.
“That’s right.”
“You came across the country and tracked me down in this remote location for an interview.” I stare at her flatly.
She doesn’t back down. “And you’re going to give it to me.”
A small smile slowly breaks across my face. “You’re right. I’ll give you something.”
She blinks and rolls her eyes. “You can’t keep deflecting forever.”
“Watch me.” I head back toward the house, whistling for Jones. He barks in the distance, which means he’s on his way. Mia follows me, but she doesn’t say anything until we’re back inside. Jones comes bounding into the garage and runs in past Mia, straight into the kitchen.
“Dinner!” I call out, and Jones starts prancing. Mia laughs as I get a bowl and pour some dog food into it. I put it down and Jones start to wolf it like he’s never eaten before and may never eat again.
“Is he always like this?” she ask.
“Always,” I say, and then I look out the window. “It’s getting dark.”
“Yeah,” she says.
“Did you bring anything with you?”
She shakes her head. “I left my stuff behind. I didn’t really know this was going to actually happen.”
“Okay,” I say. “Look, town is two hours back. I can take you if you want, or you can stay here tonight.”
She bites her lip. “Shelly said there’s a storm.”
I nod. “You’re right. There’s a storm coming, probably tonight. If you stay, maybe you’ll get that interview, but you might be stuck. If you leave, you might not get a chance to talk to me for weeks.”
She bites her lip, considering. I pour myself a drink and watch her, heart beating fast.
I don’t know what I want her to do. Part of me wants her to stay, but that’s the part I’m not supposed to trust anymore. There’s a reason I’m out here, a reason I don’t let myself get close to anyone. This is my prison, my punishment, and although I’m the one holding the keys, I can’t let myself break.
Not again. Never again.
And yet as I look at her, all I know is that I want her. I crave her so badly that I want to break all my rules, let someone into my life that I know I shouldn’t. She wants to get inside of me, dig deep down under the layers and peel me back, open me up. I don’t want that to happen. I’m afraid of that, to be totally honest. It scares the shit out of me, trying to analyze all the dark garbage that makes me the man that I am.
Still I want her to stay. It’s fucked up and wrong but I want her more than I’m willing to admit.
“I have to write this story,” she says finally.
I cock my head. “Why do you need to get it done so badly? I told you that you can make it up.”
She sighs. “Murray would see through that. And besides, I’m a journalist. I don’t do that sort of thing.
I laugh. “You’re not fake news?”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t even say that.”
“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were the last honest reporter.”
“We’re all honest. Unfortunately, the world’s complicated and people are flawed.”
I smile at that. She’s smart and sharp, and I can see why Murray likes her. “So what’ll it be then?”
“I’ll stay,” she says, and I have to stifle the joy I suddenly feel.
I don’t deserve to feel joy.
“Okay.” I say. “Come on. I’d better give you a tour of the place.”
She nods but doesn’t follow. I pause, halfway to the stairs. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I just… we need to keep this professional, okay?”
I blink. “Of course, although you know it sends a mixed message when you come hunt me down like this.”
“I didn’t come here to fuck you.”
“I don’t believe you.” I stare at her, a little smile on my face. She knows I’m undressing her with my eyes right now, but she doesn’t back down. I like that about her.
“Professional, or I leave,” she says.
“If you insist,” I answer, sighing. “But I still should give you the tour.”
“Okay,” she says. Jones dances around her ankles again before running off up the steps ahead of me.
I don’t look back at her. I’m too busy grinning my head off as I head up to the second floor. She looks so defiant, so fucking gorgeous and sexy, and I know that she’s not going to hold out. She’s here to fuck me, whether she knows it or not, and I’m going to make sure she indulges in what she really wants. There’s no going ba
ck for me, I realize. If I let her stay, I’m breaking a rule I know I shouldn’t, and who knows what other rules I’m going to break.
Maybe we’ll keep it professional. At least, I won’t do anything she doesn’t want me to do.
But I suspect that soon enough she’ll be down on her knees, begging to have a taste of my big cock, her pussy dripping wet and aching for me to rip her wide open.
5
Mia
I didn’t know what to expect from Ethan’s house, but this definitely wasn’t what I thought.
I guess I imagined some kind of log cabin. That’s the stereotype, at least. If he’s escaping the world then I figured he’d go all for it, but instead he built this gorgeous, modern home that seems almost entirely self-sufficient. It’s far from a log cabin in the woods.
It’s actually a mansion in the woods.
The entrance leads past a laundry and mud room, and into the main part of the house. It’s half kitchen, half enormous great living room with these big windows overlooking the countryside. I stare out those windows and feel myself getting lost in the landscape, and for a split second I think I understood why he wants to be alone out here like this.
We continue the tour upstairs. There’s a gym, which explains his incredible body, an office with a computer (“Yes, we have internet,” he says, winking at me), a little reading room, and another room full of records. There’s a bedroom at the end of the hall, and more stairs.
“You’ll be staying here,” he says, showing me the room. It’s small and cute and has its own little modern bathroom complete with a shower.
“Do you get many guests?” I ask him.
He gives me a look. “Come on.”
I follow him up to the third floor. There’s a movie room, sliding doors out onto a balcony that overlooks the valley, and a small sauna area. Outside on the balcony is a hot tub, but we don’t bother going out toward it.
“And this is my room,” he says, stopping at a door.
“Not taking me inside?”
He grins at me. “Not yet.” He leaves the door open. “Feel free to use whatever you want in the house. Nothing’s off limits for you if you end up getting stuck here, although I have two rules.”