“Morning, love,” I called out to him.
He set the axe down. Then he squared his shoulders and began to sing.
His voice carried clearly across the yard.
“There was a mountain man living alone on a hill, had a heart full of wanting and time to kill. He saw a curly-haired woman with a smile like the sun, said Lord have mercy, check out the ass on that one.”
He kicked off one boot.
“So he chased her through town and he chased her through spring, bought her coffee and bookshelves and a diamond ring. She ran and she laughed and she said ‘catch me if you can,’ and he caught her, he kept her, he’s the luckiest man.”
The second boot went flying sideways into the garden.
“What are you doing!” I laughed, but I already knew.
‘Chase’ was our favorite game together.
He yanked his jeans down, his cock jutting straight out, already hard, as he started stomping up to the back door of the cabin where I stood.
I shrieked and spun away back into the house, slamming the door behind me.
But I could only do a slow run on account of being three months pregnant.
And besides that, maybe Iwantedto be caught.
The back door swung open, and six feet of naked, grinning mountain man filled the doorway.
“Morning, Shelly Bear,” he growled.
I pointed at him. “You stay right there.”
He didnotstay right there.
He crossed the kitchen in four long strides and caught me from behind, his big arms wrapping around me as his lips dropped to the side of my neck.
The warm, solid weight of him against my back felt like perfection, and I stopped pretending I wanted to get away.
“I caught you.”
“What are you going to do with me now?”
“Make you see stars,” he murmured against my skin, his voice rumbling with satisfaction as he rubbed his cock between my thighs. “And then maybe you’ll tame me. I’m ready for you to domesticate me, Shelly Bear.”
I turned in his arms and looked up at him, slipping my hand against his beard.
“You were never wild,” I said. “You were just waiting for someone to take you in, like a housecat.”
“Purr, purr,” he rumbled.
Then he pulled back with that wicked look returning, and before I could say a word, he gripped my hips and lifted me clean onto the kitchen counter, settling himself between my knees.
“Shelly-Rae Nelson,” he rumbled, his dark eyes holding mine. “Are you ready to ride my bronco before breakfast?”
I laughed and then gasped because his hands were already sliding up the inside of my thighs, parting them gently.
Imayhave forgotten to put on underwear beneath the flannel, and Amos had just discovered that fact.
He groaned, then slipped his hand to my slit with patient, unhurried attention that made my breath go shallow.
