Mountain Man (The Smith Brothers Book 1)

by Sherilee Gray

  He cupped my cheek, his thumb sliding across my puffy, tingling lips. “Jesus, Birdie, I…” He shook his head. “That was incredible.”

  I stood, and he grabbed my hand.

  “Are you wet?” he asked.

  I drew in a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  He tugged me closer, then gripped the sides of my pants and tugged them and my underwear down my legs. I opened my mouth to say he didn’t need to return the favor, but the words turned to a startled squeal when Hank threw me over his spread knees. My bare ass was in the air and I gasped when his hand slid between my thighs.

  His fingers slid back and forth between my drenched pussy lips, and with a grunt of approval, he pushed one inside me, nice and deep. I bit down on the thigh supporting my head and thrust back into his hand. “Is this one of your fantasies?” I gasped against his thigh.

  He dragged the finger out then shoved it back in, adding a second. “Yes,” he growled.

  My scream was muffled by his muscled thigh. I spread wider for him, welcoming his thrusting fingers.

  “Had a lot of time to imagine what I’d do to you when I finally found you, Birdie. Naked, over my knee while I played with you, making you wriggle and squirm and come all over my fingers was one of my favorites.”

  Oh God. He went deep, so deep, fucking me like that. His other hand slid under me and he cupped my breast, squeezing, teasing my nipple.

  “Love these,” he said. “These big soft tits. Love your ass, and your hips and your cute rounded belly. Fucking perfect, Birdie.”

  His blunt words made my head spin, and turned me on even more than I already was. His thumb was resting against my behind, lightly pressed against my hole and it felt good, so damn good.

  I tried to push back, but I was being held down over his knee, completely at his mercy. His work-rough palm and thick fingers worked between my thighs, and I loved it. I loved that it was me who he was showing this side of himself to.

  He thrust in hard, and I jolted and bit deeper into his flesh. He worked me over and over, teasing my G-spot, driving me to the edge. And when he next pushed inside, he stayed deep, thrusting shallow rapid thrusts that, combined with his thumb pressing harder against my ass and the way he tormented my nipple, had me coming with enough force to knock me unconscious. I screamed, loud enough to scare away any animals in hearing distance.

  Hank gently removed his hands from between my thighs and under me, and then they were moving over me, massaging, caressing. I lay there unable to move for the longest time. Not wanting to.

  Finally, I lifted my head and caught sight of my teeth marks on his skin. “Oh God, Hank, I’m so sorry.”

  He lifted me like a limp rag doll, which was exactly how I felt. “I like them,” he said, all deep and gruff, then carried me to the bed.

  He was hard again, painfully so.

  Hank came down on top of me, his mouth attacking mine with a hunger that set me alight right along with him. I gripped his shoulders, the bulging muscles flexing under my hands, and spread my legs for him automatically—which put the head of his cock right there.

  I moaned.

  His hips jerked forward at my needy sound, and he slid in about an inch, stretching me.

  He tore his mouth from mine. “I’m sorry.” Strain lined his face. He was breathing heavily, and his arms shook. “I shouldn’t have done that. I—”

  I dug my heels in when I thought he might pull out. “God, don’t stop. Fuck me, Hank, please. Fuck me.”

  He hovered above me, eyes burning into mine, and I watched a change come over him. His stomach muscles, his thighs, God, every muscle in his body tightened—a reminder of his immense strength, of how badly I wanted him to let that loose on me, to give me everything. He was hanging on to his control by the thinnest of threads. Watching as it washed from his face, as animal need took over, sent anticipation spiking through me.

  A growl exploded past his lips, and his hips snapped forward. His cock thrust into me, filling me completely. I cried out as a string of curses flew from his mouth.

  He held himself still above me, staring down at me, breath hissing through his teeth. “I’ve only done this once before. If I do something wrong, something you don’t like, tell me, sweetheart. Please, tell me.”

  It was impossible to form an answer when my body was still adjusting to him, to his size, so deep inside me. All I could do was cling to him tighter.

  On a groan, he pulled out and slid back in.

  We both groaned.

  Then he really started moving.

  His big body covered mine, rolling, driving into me. His grunts and growls filled my head, and I felt his muscles bunching beneath my hands as he thrust into me over and over again.

  He looked down on me, jaw tight, teeth clenched, the tendons in his neck bulging under his skin, and I moaned his name.

  “Christ, wrapped around me so tight. So tight, sweetheart,” he said, voice as rough as gravel.

  I dug my heel into his firm ass and twisted my hips, grinding into his next thrust.

  “Oh God, oh fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight. “You can’t do that. You can’t move on me like that. I won’t last, and I want this to last.”

  His face was flushed, his expression hiding nothing. The man was sweet and fierce all at once. “I’m nearly there already, Hank,” I said. “You’re perfect. This is perfect.”

  His eyes opened, and his hot gaze dropped to my chest, to my swaying breasts. “Look at you,” he bit out. “Goddammit, Birdie, my fantasy girl brought to life. Don’t want this to end. Never want this to end.”

  His whole body went solid and I knew he was holding back, waiting for me to come first. He didn’t have to wait long. With the next thrust and grind of his hips, I screamed, my pussy clenching around his iron-hard length repeatedly as it drove into me without mercy.

  “I can feel it, can feel you…so good,” he gritted out. Hank wrapped one of his brawny arms under my hips and hauled them off the mattress, pulling me down on his cock as he thrust up, filling me over and over again, filling the air with more of his sexy grunts and growls. All I could do was hang on and take it, take each exquisite, brutal thrust of his powerful body.

  I watched in awe as his head flew back and he groaned loud enough to rattle the windows, making me shudder with every pulse of his cock as he shot hot and hard inside me.

  He collapsed on top of me then quickly rolled to the side, taking me with him, and he hung on tight.

  I absorbed his warmth and let my eyes drift shut. I was asleep in minutes.

  I woke in the middle of the night. Hank was on his side curled into my back, heavy arm over my waist, snoring softly. I even liked his snoring. I liked knowing he was there, that I wasn’t alone.

  I liked the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel like the loveliest woman he’d ever seen, like even if we were in a room full of beautiful, perfect women, it would only be me that he’d see.

  I liked it all, everything that was Hank. In fact, I was pretty sure like wasn’t a strong enough word for what I felt for Hank Smith, not by a long shot.

  God, what we’d done—I had never experienced anything like that in my life. I was slick between my legs, traces of Hank, of the way he’d taken me, still there. I’d never had unprotected sex in my life. But I hadn’t even thought about it last night. Thankfully, I was on the pill. And I couldn’t regret it. I would never regret one moment of my time with Hank.

  But I knew it was time to go, that there would be people worried about me. They probably thought I was dead. I didn’t want to leave, not this cabin, not Hank. But Hank liked his own company. Soon he’d want his solitude back. He didn’t want anyone else in his life.

  I’d never quite felt like I fitted in anywhere. When I was with Hank, though, it felt right. Being there with him felt right.

  I needed to go back down the mountain, to my little rental house, before I got even more attached to him than I already was. I needed to go back to the real world,
a world that was lonely, and would now be even lonelier because there’d be no Hank in it.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was no use. The first tear fell, followed by the second.

  Somehow, I’d fallen in love with Hank Smith, and tomorrow I had to tell him to take me home.

  Hank walked in with an armful of firewood and dumped it in the wood bin by the fire.

  I watched him, the way he moved, the sounds he made, the intense look in his eyes. Always intense.

  Always searching.

  When he looked at me sometimes, I thought he was trying to get inside my head, that he wanted to read my thoughts. I was obviously imagining it. The fact that he hadn’t asked to know more, to learn more about me and my life, said it all really. He didn’t want to know more because there was no point. I hated the way that stung.

  Hank wasn’t some player, some jerk using me to get his rocks off. He was a good man, a man used to being on his own. And he liked it that way. At least he’d been honest.

  I’d just finished making the bed, so I moved toward him, stopping on the other side of the table. “It looks good outside. Clear.”

  His back was to me and he stilled like he often did, in that unnatural way, like if he was still enough no one would notice him. Did he know he did that, that he froze when he was out of his comfort zone?

  He grunted in response.

  “It hasn’t snowed in three days,” I said, pointing out the obvious, trying to get him to talk to me. There was a reason he hadn’t taken me home as soon as it cleared. Would he admit it? The real reason he hadn’t taken me home yet?

  He still wasn’t looking at me. “Yeah,” he said.

  I forced myself to say the words I’d been dreading all night. “I was wondering if maybe…if the trails were clear…if it was time to go home?”

  He turned to me, his eyes not meeting mine. “Your ankle…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You think it’s strong enough?”

  I took him in, his posture, the way the muscle at the side of his jaw jumped, the way his fingers curled and uncurled at his sides.

  Hank knew as well as I did that my ankle was fine. It had been fine for days. I’d even gone to check traps with him. Was this…

  My eyes shot up to his. He still wasn’t looking at me.

  He didn’t want me to go.

  This was his way of asking me if I felt the same, if I wanted to stay up there, with him, for longer. My heart started to race. God, I did, so much, more than anything in the world. But prolonging this would only prolong the pain. The end.

  I had to get back to the real world and stop living in this fantasy one.

  “Hank,” I called, and his eyes finally landed on mine. I felt my lower lip tremble, but I made myself say what needed to be said. “Yes, it’s…it’s strong enough.”

  He flinched, and I felt it, like someone reaching into my chest and squeezing until I couldn’t breathe.

  Finally, he dipped his chin. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  He didn’t say much after that. Neither of us did. What was there to say? I knew once we reached the bottom of this mountain, once he delivered me home, I wouldn’t see him again. I also knew I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t spend one more earth-shattering night with him. If I didn’t tell him, show him, how much he meant to me.

  I was still trying to work up the courage to say it, to ask him if he’d give me that, as it grew late. We’d eaten, I’d cleaned up, and it was nearing the time we usually went to bed.

  Tonight, things weren’t the same, though. Hank seemed edgy, distracted, and my heart had been racing since I’d decided to tell him I needed to go home.

  The air in the cabin felt thick, electric. The tension was so dense my limbs felt weak. He wouldn’t make the first move, though, not tonight, not after I asked to leave.

  I turned to him. “Hank.”

  He lifted his head and when his eyes locked with mine, the oxygen was knocked from my lungs. “Yeah?” he rumbled, voice thick, pure gravel.

  “Tonight’s our last night, and I…I want…”

  He stood, resting his closed fists on the tabletop. “What do you want, Birdie?”

  “I want for us to—”

  The door banged open and a fur-covered monster stomped in.

  My hand flew to my chest and I stumbled back. Hank was around the table, catching me around the waist before I could fall, and held me there.

  “Jesus Christ, Beau,” Hank gritted out.

  Beau?

  The monster shoved back a fur hood. “Surprise,” he said, then his eyes slid to me. “Though it turns out the surprise is all mine.” His eyes lifted to Hank. “Who do we have here?”

  Beau was almost the spitting image of Hank. Maybe not quite as built. Still big, but not Hank big, though I doubted many were. They were about the same height. Beau’s beard was trimmed, not as long, and his hair was a little shorter.

  But the main difference was the smile on his face. I’d never seen Hank smile, not like the one curving Beau’s lips.

  And you never will.

  “Why are you here?” Hank said instead of answering.

  Beau frowned. “You know why I’m here. You were due back three days ago.”

  Hank cursed. “Lost track of time.”

  “I can see why,” Beau said.

  Since Hank wasn’t offering up any information, Beau’s eyes slid to me. “I’m Hank’s brother, Beau.” He slid off his gloves and held out a hand to shake.

  “Birdie,” I said, taking it.

  “I take it I’m interrupting?” He grinned, but I could tell by the way his eyes slid back to his brother that he was full of questions. He was far more shocked at finding me there with his brother than he was letting on.

  “Hank rescued me. I got separated from my group. I was lost and then Hank showed up. I would have frozen to death if it wasn’t for him.”

  Beau’s eyebrows shot up. “Birdie Winters?”

  “How did you know?”

  “They think you’re dead.” He cursed. “Since the snow’s finally let up, they’d planned a search party. They’re heading up tomorrow…to bring down a body.”

  Oh God. I felt ill.

  Beau shook his head. “What the hell were you thinking?” he said to Hank. “Why didn’t you bring her down two days ago when the tracks started to clear?” He pulled something from his pocket.

  “She hurt her ankle. Couldn’t move her,” Hank said.

  Beau gave me a once-over. “She’s not favoring it now. Seems all right to me.”

  I felt my face heat.

  Beau’s gaze came back to my face, then it shot back to Hank and he grinned again.

  “Don’t say one fucking word,” Hank growled.

  “Wasn’t going to.” Beau held something up. “You’re lucky I have this.” He glanced at me. “Satellite phone. I’ll call, let them know you’re safe and well and coming back…” His brows lifted, waiting for an answer.

  “Tomorrow,” Hank said.

  I listened as Beau made the call, then he helped himself to leftover dinner and plonked down in one of the chairs around the table.

  Hank was quiet, surly, sitting opposite him. I was in the only armchair in the room, by the fire.

  Beau looked at Hank and smirked. “If you weren’t so damn stubborn and bought a goddamn phone I wouldn’t have had to come all the way up here. I’m the one that should be pissed, not you.”

  “I’m not pissed.”

  Beau snorted. “You look pissed from where I’m sitting.”

  Hank growled.

  Beau laughed.

  I sat there, fascinated, watching the exchange. They were so alike in appearance, but that was as far as it went.

  “I can see why you’d be annoyed, of course…”

  “Beau,” Hank said, warning clear in his voice.

  “You must have known I’d show up here when you didn’t arrive home?”

  Hanks jaw tightened. “Like I
said, I lost track of time.”

  “I’ll bet,” Beau said, then his eyes slid to me.

  Hank shot to his feet, grabbed his brother by the back of his sweater and shoved him toward the door. “A word. Outside.”

  Beau winked at me and let his brother push him out the door. “We’ll be right back.”

  7

  Hank

  Goddamn Beau.

  How could I have forgotten my brother? We always let the other know how long we’d be up here for. We took each other’s backs. Our grandfather had drummed this into us as kids. We always had a return date and if one of us didn’t show, the other went looking.

  We’d never had to go looking, which was why I didn’t even think about it.

  “Tonight’s our last night, and I…I want…”

  What did Birdie want? I had a feeling—a strong feeling—I knew exactly what she wanted from me, and Christ, I wanted to give it to her again more than anything in the world. Over and over. Now I might never get to be with her again like that, and it was my own damned fault.

  My earth had moved on its axis last night. Making love to Birdie had been life altering. My feelings for her went far beyond lust—they had before I knew what it was to slide deep inside her, but now? Christ, I wanted to give her a lot more than that, more than the physical, I wanted to give her everything.

  “You can quit shoving,” Beau said. “We’re out of earshot.”

  I gave him one last push for the hell of it. “Why did you have to show up tonight?”

  Beau actually looked sorry. “I thought you’d fallen on your giant head and needed me to save your ass. Brother, this is not my fault. You really need to get a sat phone.”

  He was right, of course. This was my own fault. Beau was only making sure I was all right. I cursed.

  Beau stared at me, brows low. “What’s going on here?”

  My face heated. I hated it. We’d talked about women before, but it was always Beau doing the talking and me doing the listening. That’s the way it had been our whole lives, and not just when it came to women.

  “You’re sleeping with her?” Beau asked.

  “No, I’m—” I cut myself off, not able to lie.

  Beau winced. “Shit, Hank, I’m sorry, man. I messed up your night.”