Page 14 of Cracking with the Mountain Man

We drive back up the mountain in my truck. Boone rides between us with his head on Priya's lap, tail thumping against my thigh. She holds my hand on the gearshift. Neither of us speaks because the silence between us has changed. It's full now. Warm.

At my cabin, I barely get the door closed before her hands are on my belt.

"Upstairs," she says against my mouth.

"Don't have an upstairs."

"Bedroom. Now."

My jacket lands on the kitchen floor. Her apron follows. She pulls my shirt over my head while I walk her backward down the hall, my hands pushing her sweater up over her ribs. We crash into the bedroom doorframe. She laughs against my mouth, that full sound, and I swallow it.

The bed catches us both. She straddles me, pulling her sweater off. No bra underneath. Brown skin and dark nipples and the line of her waist curving into hips that fill my hands perfectly.

"Four days." She rolls her hips down. The friction through our remaining clothes drags a groan out of me. "Four days without you. I burned a chimney cake Thursday because I was crying into the batter."

"I'm sorry."

"Prove it."

My hands grip her hips. One roll and she's under me, hair spread dark on white sheets, eyes blazing. My mouth finds her throat. Her collarbone. The curve of her breast. Her nipple between my teeth, gentle, then harder when her back arches off the bed.

"Owen. Please."

Jeans come off in a tangle of urgency. Hers. Mine. Her underwear is cotton and simple and I drag it down her legs with my teeth because I want to feel every inch of skin I almost lost.

She's wet when my fingers find her. Two pressing inside while my thumb circles her clit. Her hips rise to meet me. Head thrown back, throat exposed, hands gripping the sheets.

"More. I need more."

Condom from the nightstand. She watches me roll it on, eyes dark, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then I'm between her thighs and she wraps her legs around me, heels pressing into the small of my back.

Sliding inside her is coming home. Slow. Deep. Her walls gripping me as I sink in all the way. Forehead to forehead. Eye contact. Her breath against my mouth.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you." Pulling back. Driving in. "I'm going to keep saying it until you're sick of hearing it."

"I'll never be sick of it."

Faster. She matches me, hips rising to meet each thrust. My hand slides under her ass, lifting her, changing the angle until I'm hitting the spot that makes her voice break. The bed rocks. Her nails drag down my back. Every stroke grinds against her clit, and the sounds she's making are wrecking me.

"Come with me." Her hand on my jaw, making me look at her. "Together."

My thumb finds her clit. Tight circles while I drive deep, again, again, watching her face. She shatters first. Clenching around me, crying out, pulling me so deep there's no space between us. The pressure breaks me open. I come buried inside her with her name on my lips and her hands in my hair and the absolute certainty that I'm never spending another night in this cabin without her.

After. Her back against my chest. Boone's nails clicking into the bedroom, settling at the foot of the bed with a satisfied grumble. The window frames a sky going orange over the Selkirks.

"You really showed up," she murmurs. Half asleep. Her fingers tracing patterns on my forearm.

"Told you. I'm slow."

"You made Sage cry."

"Sage was already crying. I just gave her a reason."

She laughs. Soft. Rolling onto her back to look up at me. Flour still in her eyebrow from the demo. Sugar on her neck.

"Stay here tonight?" My mouth against her temple.