The expression there made my heart stutter.
His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something else too. Wonder. Like he couldn’t quite believe I was real. This rugged, scarred mountain man was looking at me with so much raw emotion that I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Then his expression clouded over.
His hands gentled on my waist, and he eased me back, putting space between us that felt like miles.
“What’s a beautiful young woman like you doing trying to kiss a man like me?” he growled out. “You can’t just throw yourself on top of a man before you know him well, or you’re going to find yourself getting fucked, hon. How old are you, Amelia?”
Chapter 7
Grayson
My head was still spinning from that kiss.
One moment I’d been sitting across from her, telling her things I’d never told anyone, and the next she’d been in my lap, her soft curves pressed against me, her lips moving over mine like she’d been starving forme.
The taste of her still lingered on my tongue. Sweet and warm, with a hint of the coffee she’d had at breakfast. My cock throbbed painfully, and every nerve ending in my body was lit up, demanding that I pull her back against me and finish what she’d started.
But I couldn’t. Not without knowing.
Her face crumpled at my question, and I watched the light drain out of her eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking back against the far edge of the spring.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice small. “I shouldn’t have… I don’t know what I was thinking. You obviously don’t want…”
She gestured vaguely at herself, and understanding hit me.
Amelia thought I was rejecting her because of how she looked. This beautiful, soft, perfect woman thought I didn’t want her.
“Hey.” I moved toward her, stopping when she flinched. “Amelia. Look at me.”
She raised her eyes reluctantly, and the vulnerability there made my chest ache.
“I think it should be pretty damn obvious that there’s an attraction between us.” I gestured down at myself and the erection that was still tenting my wet underwear under the water’s surface. “You felt that. YouknowI want you.”
Pink flooded her cheeks.
“But you’re just passing through,” I continued, the words coming out rougher than I intended. “And you’re young. Have you given any thought to what you’re doing here? Throwing yourself at a stranger in the middle of the wilderness?”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m a grown woman.”
“How old?”
The pink deepened to red. “Twenty-six.”
“Do you make a habit of throwing yourself at older men?”
Something steely flashed in her eyes, and for a moment I saw the woman who’d quit her job, sold everything she owned, and driven across the country chasing a dream.
“You’re not that old,” she pouted in return.
“Older than you,” I rumbled.
“I don’t make a habit of throwing myself atanymen.” She lifted her chin. “You’re the first man I’ve ever tried to kiss first. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had has chosen me. I just… went along with it.”
That knowledge settled somewhere deep in my chest, warming a part of me I’d thought had gone cold years ago.
She had chosenme.
