“Come with me,” I growled, thrusting deep and grinding. “Let me feel you milk my cock.”
She came first, screaming my name as her pussy spasmed around me in powerful waves, pulling me over the edge with her. I buried myself to the hilt and exploded, groaning loudly as I filled her with hot spurts, pulse after pulse.
The pleasure was blinding—her heat, her tightness, the way she fluttered and clenched like she never wanted to let me go. Ikept rubbing her clit through it, drawing out every last shudder until we were both trembling, breathless, foreheads pressed together.
For a long moment, the only sounds were our ragged breathing and the distant call of a bird overhead. I stayed inside her, softening slowly, savoring the slick warmth of our combined release trickling down my thighs.
Then reality hit. We were in the middle of a public—well, semi-public—meadow, buck naked against a tree.
“Shit,” I laughed, pulling out carefully. A rush of our mingled cum dripped onto the moss, and the sight made my spent cock twitch. “We gotta move before some hiker stumbles on us.”
Paisley giggled, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling as she scrambled for her clothes. “Oh my God, we could’ve been caught.”
I yanked on my pants, still half-hard just watching her tits bounce as she pulled her shirt over her head. “Worth it. Every fucking second.”
She laughed harder, hopping on one foot to get her boot on, nearly toppling into me. I caught her waist, pulling her in for one last deep kiss that tasted like sweat and sex and wildflowers.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing her pack and slinging it over my shoulder along with mine. “Let’s get you back to my place before I decide to bend you over that log and go for round two.”
We hurried down the trail, half-dressed and laughing like idiots the whole way. Her hand found mine somewhere around the second switchback and didn’t let go. I’d have walked all the way off this mountain and into whatever came next without breaking that grip
5
PAISLEY
Iwoke to the smell of coffee and the sound of a door closing softly, like someone was trying not to wake me.
For a few disoriented seconds, I didn’t know where I was. The sheets were flannel, worn soft from washing, and the pillow smelled fresh, like it had been laundered recently. The bedroom was small and spare. A dresser with a folded stack of T-shirts on top. Hiking boots lined up by the closet door. A window that framed nothing but green.
Then my body reminded me. The pleasant ache between my thighs. The faint rawness on my lower back from bark I’d barely noticed at the time. The heaviness in my muscles from a hike that had turned into something I hadn’t planned for.
I sat up and pulled the sheet to my chest, even though I was alone. My clothes were folded neatly on the chair near the bed—he must have done that after I fell asleep. My phone sat on top of them. When I picked it up, I had eleven texts from Hartley and Brooklyn.
Where are you??
Paisley, answer your phone.
Bobbi says she saw you leave with one of the outfitter guys. GET IT GIRL.
Are you alive?
If you’re dead, I’m taking your suitcase. You have better hiking boots than me.
Update us when you surface.
I smiled, but it faded quickly.
Underneath those messages was a notification from my bank. The auto-payment on my mom’s medical debt had gone through that morning—the usual two hundred dollars that barely covered the interest. The same two hundred dollars that would keep getting withdrawn every month for the next thousand years at this rate.
And just like that, the meadow and the sex and the laughing on the trail all disappeared, and reality rushed back in.
I was in a man’s cabin. Not a stranger—Evan. A man I’d known for two days, in a town I didn’t live in, while my mom was back home making minimum payments on a debt that was slowly drowning her.
I’d come here with a plan. A checklist. A strategy. A clear objective. Win the money. Save my mom. Go home.
The plan did not include falling for a mountain man with a secret meadow and hands that made me forget my own name.
I dressed quickly and found Evan in the kitchen. His cabin was small—one bedroom, an open kitchen and living area, a bathroom I’d used last night that had a shower stall barely big enough for one person, let alone two—though we’d managed.
