My chest tightens. “Maybe you will.”
I’ll make damn sure of it.
With a soft smile, she turns around and heads for the trail, going back the same way she came. As she starts to jog, her ponytail swishes, catching the light like molten caramel. I can’t help looking at her ass, thick and rounded like the rest of her, and I have to grit my teeth to stifle a groan. The way she moves is fucking intoxicating, and I keep my eyes on her curves until she disappears down the trail, the trees swallowing her up.
Gone.
For a moment, I don’t move. I feel weirdly hollow—like Everly took my insides with her when she ran away—but I keep it together enough to herd the tourists up the next part of the forest trail. We walk for miles, but my mind is still back at Lover’s Lake, remembering the way my name sounded on Everly’s lips.
Shit. What has this girl done to me?
I need to forget about her. Forget that I ever met her. A big mountain brute like me shouldn’t be thinking about a curvy young beauty like Everly—all softness and innocence. I’m old enough to be her father, goddammit.
It’s not right. Not at all.
My mind knows that. Keeps repeating it over and over, like it’s trying to drill sense into me. But my body isn’t listening. Hell, it stopped listening the second she stepped out of those trees, and no matter how loudly my rational brain screams that she’s a stranger, my primal instincts scream louder.
And they’re screaming that this woman is already mine.
3
EVERLY
I run allthe way back to my sister’s cabin, still buzzing with adrenaline as I barrel through the front door. Amelia looks up when I enter, and I say a quick hi before I head into the bathroom.
Stripping off my sweaty clothes, I get in the shower, letting the water run cold for a minute to soothe my burning skin. I feel hot all over. Tingly. But it has nothing to do with the fact I’ve been running…and everything to do with the giant mountain man I just met.
Gunnar.
I say his name out loud, testing it on my tongue. It sounds rugged and masculine, just like him, and I lean back against the shower wall with a shuddery sigh as I turn the water up to warm.
He was so handsome.
Stupidly, maddeningly handsome.
I’ve never seen a man like him before—a man who looks like he was carved from the mountain itself, wild and immovable and utterly untamed.
You shouldn’t be out here alone.
It was the first thing he said to me. But there was nothing condescending in his tone—just a gruff kind of concern. A protectiveness that makes my knees weak just thinking about it.
And the way he looked at me…
Nobody has ever looked at me like that. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, burning into my skin like hot coals. There was something primal about it. Animal. Like he was trying to mark me with his gaze. Like heownedme.
I shiver despite the heat of the shower, desire pulling tight between my thighs. My body has never reacted like this to anyone before. Heck, I’m twenty-two, and I’ve never had sex. I was always too busy studying to pay attention to college guys, and I never felt like I was missing out on much. Now, after five minutes in Gunnar’s presence, I’m a quivering mess.
Breathing hard, I pull the showerhead off the wall, turning up the pressure. I guide the jet of water down my body, tense with anticipation as it nears my throbbing sex. When it hits my clit, I gasp.
With one hand on the shower wall for balance, I let the hot stream beat against me, closing my eyes. I think of Gunnar. The way he towered over me, muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt. The deep growl of his voice when he asked for my name. I let myself imagine how it would feel to be under him, dominated by his size. How it would feel to have him inside me, claiming my virginity, those dark eyes fixed on mine as he takes what’s his…
I hold the showerhead in place as the fantasies play in my mind, and it doesn’t take long for me to come undone. A ragged moan escapes my throat, pleasure pulsing through me until I’m shaky and spent.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath. Then I replace the showerhead on the wall, slowly coming back to myself.
What the heck just happened?
The question lingers as I finish up in the shower and towel myself dry. I just touched myself over a stranger…a man twice my age who I only just met. I don’t know what I was thinking. Heck, Amelia is the big romantic, not me. I’m meant to be the grounded one. The practical one. And sexual fantasies about hot mountain men are definitelynotpractical.
