Chased by the Mountain Man

5

Jasmine

“AHHH!”

The sound of a scream makes my eyes snap open, my heart pounding with dread. I blink at the unfamiliar room, still disoriented from sleep, and it takes me a minute to remember where I am.

Trent’s cabin. Snowfall Ridge.

I lie still for a moment, shaken, trying to breathe slowly.

I must have been dreaming. Somebody screamed in my dream and it woke me up.

But then I hear it again, even louder than before.

“AHHH! NO!”

On the other side of the wall, I can hear the sound of movement. Springs squeaking. Like somebody thrashing around on a mattress.

“Trent,” I gasp, leaping out of bed.

Oh God. Please let him be okay.

I dart out of the guest room and fling the door to Trent’s room wide open, flicking on the light. My stomach churns with fear. Trent is covered in sweat, shouting out words I can’t understand, clawing at the sheets. But his eyes are shut. He’s asleep.

“FALL BACK!” he grunts, writhing around like he’s in pain. “FALL BACK!”

“Trent!” I cry, rushing to his side and resting my hands on his shoulders, trying to gently shake him awake. “Trent, it’s okay! It’s alright.”

With a guttural cry, his eyes snap open. He’s panting hard like he just ran a marathon, and for a while he stares blankly up at the ceiling. Then he starts to blink, his body relaxing, his face melting into a look of confusion. His gaze finds me.

“Jasmine?”

Relief floods through me as he seems to come back to himself. “You were having a nightmare, Trent. You were…you were screaming.”

My heart is still banging against my chest, my breath coming out in panicked gasps, and immediately Trent’s face fills with concern.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. That must have scared the shit out of you.”

I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

Trent pushes himself up into a sitting position, and the covers fall away from his chest. I get a glimpse of his thick muscles and black tattoos, along with more scars. There’s a puckered mark beneath his collarbone that looks like it came from a bullet wound, and my heart twinges at the sight of it. When Trent told me he was a veteran, I could tell it was a sensitive subject for him. Now I can see why. It looks like being in the military literally tore this man to shreds.

“I’m okay,” Trent says, frowning like he’s annoyed with himself. “Sorry for scaring you. I should have warned you this might happen.”

“Does it happen a lot?” I ask gently, sitting down on the bed.

He shrugs. “Couple of times a week. It’s better than it was.”

Something tells me Trent would hate for me to feel sorry for him, but I can’t help it. My giant mountain man rescuer is the biggest, strongest man I’ve ever seen, but that’s only half the story. He’s clearly suffered a lot, and I wish I could save him the way he saved me.

“It must be really scary for you,” I tell him, absent-mindedly reaching out to touch his arm. My fingertips tingle at the contact, but I don’t pull away. “I guess you’re dreaming about the things you saw in the military?”

Trent’s jaw tightens but he nods.

“It might make you feel better to talk about it,” I say softly. “I know it can’t be easy, but things usually feel less scary once you get them out in the open.”

Trent sighs. “I’m not gonna make you sit here and listen to all my shit, Jasmine.”

“You’re not making me do anything. I want to listen.” I look at him defiantly. “You listened to my story and you helped me. Let me do the same for you.”

He considers me for a moment, those intense brown eyes rooting me to the spot, and I can tell he’s having some kind of internal battle with himself.

“Alright,” he says eventually. “What do you want to know?”

I think for a moment, figuring it will be easiest to start from the beginning.

“What made you want to join the military?”

Trent blows out a breath. “I wanted to make my grandparents proud. And I thought it might help me feel less guilty.”

“Guilty?”

Trent groans. “You sure you want to hear this, Jasmine? It’s not a pretty story.”

“I’m sure.”

I squeeze his arm, and his eyes flicker down to my hand. He stares at it as he continues talking.

“My mom died giving birth to me, so my brother and I were raised by our grandparents. Great people, both of them.” He grimaces. “They told me my mom died in a car wreck. Didn’t want me to blame myself, I guess. But when I was seventeen, I came across her death certificate hidden away with my grandma’s things and found out the truth.”

“Oh, Trent.” I swallow back a rush of emotion and say, “I’m so sorry. But you must know it wasn’t your fault. You were only a baby.”

He nods. “I know. I get that it wasn’t my fault, but it doesn’t stop it from eating away at you, knowing that your mom died because you were born. It messed with my head for a long time, so I joined the military. I wanted to get away from all the damn guilt. I figured if I could serve my country and do some good, maybe it would balance out my mom’s death somehow.”

“Did it help?” I ask.

Trent smiles slightly, his eyes glazing over with reminiscence. “Yeah. For a long time, it really did. I met some incredible people, and I was a damn good soldier. I felt like I’d found my calling, and I devoted my life to it. It was the only thing I cared about for two decades.”

“But something happened?” I prompt him gently. “Something changed?”

I have a feeling that Trent has never opened up about all this before. Now that he’s letting the words flow, I don’t want to interrupt him.

“Yeah. Iraq was tough, but Syria…” He flinches, his hand stroking the length of the scar on his face. “That’s where it all happened.”

There’s silence for a moment, but I don’t say anything. Trent is obviously gearing up to tell his story, and I wait patiently, my hand still touching his arm.

“We were evacuating civilians from a city in northern Syria,” he mutters eventually. “The city was pretty much destroyed already, and our orders were to get people out. It was hell on earth: smoke and rubble, people screaming. I was part of a task force trying to evacuate a marketplace when a bomb went off.” Trent’s fists are clenched tight, his eyes staring into the distance like he’s still there in that war-torn city, looking around at the carnage. “I won’t go into the details of what I saw, but it was…bad. Really fucking bad. Forty-six dead civilians along with three men from the task force.”

I press my lips together, tears welling in my eyes. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine…”

“Good. I don’t want you to.” When he sees the tears in my eyes, he rests a hand over mine, and I swallow down my emotions, mentally pulling myself together.

“So that’s how you got your scar?” I ask.

He nods. “Shrapnel. Tore up my chest, mostly, but a bit caught me in the face too. Missed my eye by a whisker. I was very lucky.”

“You must have been so brave.”

Trent shrugs. “No more than anybody else who was there that day. I chose to be there; I chose to serve, but the people living in that city didn’t have a choice. They had to be brave whether they wanted to or not.”

I squeeze Trent’s hand and we lapse into silence, his story hanging in the air between us, leaving us lost in our thoughts. It’s impossible for me to truly understand what Trent went through—all I know is I respect him more than ever. He’s brave and strong, but he obviously didn’t leave the military unscathed. And I’m not just talking about his physical scars. It sounds like Trent has a lot of trauma to work through, and even though I’m just some random girl staying in his cabin for a night, I already care about him. I want him to find some peace. He deserves it.

“Well, I think it’s your turn to tell me something now,” Trent says after a while, raising his eyes to meet mine. His expression is still glassy, but he manages a small smile.

“Like what?”

“Like why you changed the subject earlier when I asked about your job.”

Crap. I knew asking for that extra slice of cheesecake wasn’t subtle enough.

“You mentioned that you majored in psychology because you wanted to be a counselor?” Trent says, raising an eyebrow as if to say come on now, your turn. And after the deep and personal things he just shared with me, I suppose it’s the least I can do.

“I did want to be a counselor,” I say quietly. “It was my dream for a long time, and I studied really hard to get my degree.”

Trent leans toward me, his eyes burning with interest. “But you changed your mind?”

“Not exactly.” I sigh, shame rising in my chest, making my skin prickle uncomfortably. “I had it all figured out. I was going to get a master’s degree after I graduated, but I lost my nerve.”

I feel like Trent’s eyes are piercing my soul as he asks, “What do you mean?”

“I just didn’t have the courage to go through with it,” I say sadly. “I started thinking about what would happen if I failed. If I was a bad counselor and couldn’t help people the way I wanted to. I’ve always been kind of anxious, and I started asking myself who the heck would want an anxious counselor. How am I going to help other people with their problems if I can’t even fix my own?” My words are running away from me, but I can’t seem to stop rambling now that I’ve started. “I decided that it was better to just forget about it. So I got a job at the bank instead. A boring, crappy job that I hate, but at least with data entry, I know I’m not going to…to ruin someone’s life by giving them the wrong advice or…or fail to help them when they need it most…or get so anxious that I don’t even know how to help them or what to do…” A tear slides down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away, feeling like an idiot. “God, I’m sorry, I can’t believe I’m crying about something so stupid after everything you just told me.”

“Jasmine.” Trent’s voice is firm. “It’s not stupid. Not at all. And for the record, I think you’d make a great counselor.”

I look at him. “You do?”

“Yes. All that shit I just told you? I’ve never talked about that stuff with anyone before, but you made me feel like I could open up to you.” He cocks his head. “And getting anxious, well, that just means you’ll be more understanding of people who have the same issues. You have experience that you can use to help. You don’t have to be a robot to be a good counselor. You’re human, and that will make you more relatable to your future clients.”

He says it with so much certainty, as if he knows for sure I’ll have future clients. I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of the way he told me he believed my story about Danny. The way he said it…it was like he’d never heard anything more convincing.

“Thank you, Trent.” I sigh, looking down at his hand which is still wrapped around mine. “I wish I could be brave like you. Then I wouldn’t be so scared. I’d be able to just go for it and do what I’ve always wanted to do.”

“You’re braver than you think, Jasmine.”

“I don’t feel it.”

“Well, you are.” Trent’s thumb gently brushes against the skin of my hand as he says, “But until you feel it, I can be brave enough for the both of us.”

It was easy to lose ourselves in conversation when we were talking about our deepest thoughts and feelings. But with the soft intimacy of Trent’s words, I’m suddenly more aware than ever that we’re alone in his room together, in bed, in his cabin up in the mountains with nobody around for miles but me and this handsome veteran. After everything he’s told me, I feel more connected to him than ever. I feel like he’s shown me his heart and soul, the deepest parts of himself, and it only makes me want him more.

My breath catches as I meet his gaze, and instantly it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. He’s so unbearably handsome, so rugged and sexy with his thick beard and dark eyes. Desire is throbbing between my thighs, making me shiver. Then Trent starts to lean in, and my heart thumps so hard that I swear he must be able to hear it. His face is so close that I can count the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and I swallow hard as I breathe in his musky, masculine scent. I look down at his mouth, anticipation swirling in my belly.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Jasmine,” he says, his voice deep and quiet, reverberating inside my brain, dancing up my spine.

He rests a hand on the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. Then with a groan of surrender, he kisses me. His mouth is soft but firm, his beard rough against my chin as he dips his tongue between my lips. It’s desperate. Urgent. Our teeth clash, tongues sliding together as I lose myself in Trent’s raw taste, moaning as he claims my mouth. My whole body buzzes with energy as my sexy mountain man pulls me on top of him, never once breaking our kiss as he wraps his arms around me tight. Our bodies press together, his muscles hard against my softness.

“Oh!” I gasp against his mouth. I can feel his cock. It’s thick and swollen, pressing against me through the fabric of my panties. It makes me shiver to know I’m having this effect on him, and I moan against his lips, squirming with need as his hungry tongue fills my mouth. Instinctively, I start to grind myself against his hard length, desperate to relieve the tension between my thighs.

“Fuck,” Trent grunts, his hands reaching down to grab my ass as he helps me move back and forth. It feels so good. I can feel my panties slicken with arousal as I urgently rub myself on his cock, giving myself over to the horny animal urges pulsing through my body.

I need to come. I need it so bad.

My moans are frantic against Trent’s lips as he sucks on my tongue, and I feel my pussy start to flutter.

“Oh!”

I tremble as pleasure throbs between my legs, my orgasm zipping through me. Trent holds me tight as I come, kissing my neck as I whine, “Trent! Oh, yes!”

He doesn’t give me time to recover. A moment later, he rolls me onto my back, his eyes burning as he looks down at me. There’s so much lust in his gaze, so much need, that I swear my panties are melting.

“I’m gonna make you say my name again,” he says firmly, one of his hands gliding down my body. “But this time, you’re gonna scream it.”