32. Ellison
Montana’s truck pulls to a stop in my driveway, the back end kicking out a little as he takes the turn faster than normal before parking. Tension radiates from him as he climbs out, and I don’t wait. Pushing open the front door, I race down the porch steps and launch myself into his arms.
He grunts as he staggers backward but catches us just as quick, my legs wrapping around his waist as he crushes his mouth against mine.
It’s heated and sloppy and desperate all at once. I want to ask what’s wrong, but something tells me I don’t want to know.
Not yet.
Not when today’s supposed to be about us. But I can’t help it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask panting against his lips, my heart in my throat as I wait for his response.
“Not yet. I want to go to the lake and strip your bikini off you and fuck you against the waterfall.”
The whimper that escapes is involuntary because Lord do I want that, so I tease, “Well, I bought this one for you.”
His eyes flick to my cover-up then back to my eyes, mischief now replacing the stress in his expression when he arrived.
“Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I just need to grab my bag.” Cupping his face, his stubble biting into my palms sends a delicious shiver down my spine even though I’m trying to be serious. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
He turns his head and places a lingering kiss on my palm. “All I need is you, Eddie. Now let’s get that bag so I can get you naked.”
Montana squeezes my ass, and I squeal as he carries me back up the stairs, not letting go as he finds my bag inside and then closes the door before walking us back to his truck.
It’s silly, really, but it makes my heart nearly skip a beat at the way he’s lookin’ at me, carrying me around like he never wants to let me go.
“You’re such a goof.” The words are light and breathless, and his smile matches my own.
“Yeah, but I’m your goof.” He kisses my nose and then maneuvers me and the bag inside the truck before walkin’ proud as a peacock around the hood to get into the driver’s seat.
“Nobody’s More Country” by Blanco Brown blasts from the speakers as soon as the engine roars to life, making me shimmy in my seat as I sing along.
Montana grabs my hand, linking our fingers before bringing our joined hands to his lips where he places a sweet kiss on my knuckles. We’re mostly quiet as we take the winding roads to Cedar Lake. It’s been a lifetime since I’ve enjoyed one of Tennessee’s most beautiful and secluded wonders.
It’s a bit of a hike and not easy to get to but it was ours, or at least it had been. That thought sours my stomach, forcing me to turn in my seat.
“Did you bring other girls here?”
Montana chuckles. “Call me a romantic, but I always knew you’d come back to me.” He winks and I roll my eyes even as my cheeks heat. “And even if you hadn’t—this has only ever been our spot.”
“You knew I’d come back?” I ask because sometimes it feels like a dream being back here.
He lifts a shoulder and lets it drop, his eyes still on the road. “I had a hard time believing our story stopped when you left for college. I mean I know it was more complicated than that but…”
He lets the words hang between us. He doesn’t elaborate and neither do I. Up ahead, the road veers off, the trees getting thicker, and Montana slows as pavement is replaced by dirt under the tires.
A couple of cars and trucks are parked in the lot, the path to the main waterfall well-worn and loved by locals and tourists alike.
Sharing a secret smile, knowing we won’t be joining them, we gather our stuff and wait patiently until the coast is clear before turning the other way and dodging the brush and moving toward our spot.
It’s so quiet, the farther we get from the crowd, the only sound coming from the rushing water, the birds flying above, and me huffing and puffing like I’ve never exercised a day in my life.
“You gonna make it?”
“Shut it, Max.” He laughs and I shove him enough to make him laugh harder as he takes off ahead of me down the makeshift trail. We walk a while longer before the trees open up to reveal a place so beautiful my heart swells in my chest.
The earthy tones of the rock shelf are magnificent as the water cascades over it before landing in the crystal-clear pool below. The teal color of the water is almost unnatural—a true sight to behold—and one that never fails to take my breath away.
I know the water is colder than the pool at my childhood home, but that thought is secondary to Montana dropping his gear onto the ground and ripping his shirt over his head.
“Stop starin’ at my ass.”
“Never.” I grin like the Cheshire cat as I gawk at him, sweeping over his body. My gaze is more salacious with every flex and ripple of muscle. Shaking his head, he looks at me over his shoulder, his cheeks the slightest shade of pink.
“Your turn.” His voice is husky as he watches me set down my bag and inch my cover-up higher over my thighs, then my hips—acutely aware of every intake of breath and groan Montana makes. By the time I toss the gauzy white fabric onto the cooler, the man is practically panting, the bikini top pushing my breasts up and out for his enjoyment.
But there’s more.
Montana eyes me like I’m his next meal, the black barely there fabric accentuating exactly what the expensive price tag promised. Bending forward, I grab the sunscreen from my bag and stand slowly.
“Can you put some on my back?” I ask sweetly, my expression full of faux innocence as I turn, pulling my hair to the side, my bottom lip caught firmly between my teeth.
“Holy hell,” Montana curses under his breath before dropping to his knees behind me and palming my bare ass cheeks. He growls, alternating between squeezing and peppering my skin with kisses, his stubble sending shocks of electricity straight to my core.
I’d been half out of my mind ordering this bathing suit, somehow being in a push-up top and a skimpy thong bottom more nerve-racking than skinny-dipping.
“Spread your legs and put your hands on the cooler,” he rasps, and I don’t argue because I’m getting exactly what I’d hoped for the moment he pulls my bottoms to the side and licks up my slit.
Gasping, I arch my back as his hand comes down on one cheek, the flesh stinging before his palm is rubbing and kneading the undoubtedly pink skin.
“Wider, El, show me what’s mine.”
Whimpering, I let my feet slide out a little more, his growl of approval making me wetter with each passing second.
“I love that this is all for me.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” I taunt even though I’m the one completely exposed to him, my body too primed for his touch to be self-conscious. There’s not a whole lot I wouldn’t do for Montana Greene in this moment, and instead of being terrified, it has my heart pumping faster as I push back toward him.
An offering.
A plea.
A cry of desperation rips from my lungs a second before his mouth covers my pussy, his tongue and lips relentless as his fingers spread me—tormenting me as he feasts. My core clenches with my impending orgasm.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, don’t stop,” I chant, my knuckles white as I grip the edge of the cooler before I shatter, my knees practically buckling as little dots dance behind my eyelids. I whimper and writhe as Montana’s tongue thrusts inside me, my walls clenching around him as he fucks another orgasm out of me.
It’s never been done before—not like that—not by anyone.
This time my knees do buckle and Montana pulls me down against him, letting me cling to his muscled body as I start to come back to mine.
“You hungry?” he asks and I look up at him in disbelief. “What? I asked if you were hungry.” He smirks and it’s downright wicked. “I already ate.”