8. Aspen
CHAPTER EIGHT
ASPEN
A s soon as the food hits my tongue, I lose all control. The chili is to die for, and the fresh sourdough is the perfect side to this hearty meal.
I must be eating like a pig with how fast I finished my bowl. I’m licking my spoon clean when I noticed Brose intently watching me, his mouth slack. He looks…is he turned on?
No, can’t be. Appalled would make more sense, considering I engulfed my meal in minutes.
Self conscious, I bite my lip. “Sorry for my table manners. It was too good to eat slowly.”
He swallows loudly. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, please.”
He pushes away from the island, taking my bowl to the stove. He returns, placing it in front of me before taking his seat again. I swear I catch him adjusting himself in his sweats, but I must be imagining things. How could my eating be alluring?
We eat in silence with him watching me and me pretending not to notice. If the food wasn’t a tasty distraction, I probably couldn’t eat.
When I finish my second helping, he asks again if I want more.
“As delicious as your cooking is, I will pop if I have another bite.”
His shoulders slump in disappointment. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Damn.” He shakes his head. “I could have listened to you moan around your food all night.”
My hands fly up to cup my burning cheeks. “What? I was not moaning .”
“You sure as hell were, and it was the hottest damn sound I’ve ever heard.”
Wow. I’m really making a great impression of myself today. Between needing Brose to free me from my chains, peeping on him while he jerked off in the shower, and face-fucking my food in front of him, the guy must think I’m a weirdo.
What’s next? Spontaneous orgasm in his presence?
I drop my hands from my cheeks, composing myself. “My apologies. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable again.”
“Don’t apologize. I should apologize.”
I grab my water glass, asking, “Why?” before taking a drink.
“If you sound this good while enjoying a meal, I can only imagine what you’d sound like in bed.”
Water shoots right out of my nose and all over him.
I sputter and choke apologies while Brose gently pats my back, handing me a napkin to clean my face. I take the napkin from him, quickly wiping my face off before blot-drying his chest where I nailed him.
“Geez. I’m making a mess of everything,” I say, dabbing him dry.
Brose takes my hands, clutching them against his warm chest. “Aspen, it’s okay.”
Tentatively, I meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know it’s all in good fun, but you sure know how to deliver the shock factor.”
One of his eyebrow arches. “Shock factor? That would imply I said something negative when I’ve said nothing of the sort. What did I say to make you think this?”
I cock my head, giving him what I assume is a come on look. “Take your pick. Telling me I deserve a real man to burn the world for me like I’m some great catch. Teasing me about how our first encounter will be the story we tell our kids one day. Or saying you want to hear me moan in bed with you. They’re all jokes.”
Brose looks at me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve, his head cocked and red brows furrowed.
My throat suddenly feels very thick. “You were joking, right?”
He smirks, shaking his head. “No, Aspen. I wasn’t joking.”
“What?” I croak, baffled. “You were serious?”
“Dead serious. Why would I lie?”
I gawk. “Because we’ve known each other for less than a handful of hours, and most of that time, I was delirious, sleeping, or attacking you.”
He shrugs like it’s no biggie. “Don’t care how short the time has been. I know what I want and I want what I see.”
“Want what you see?” My eyes narrow with disappointment. “As in, you want to fuck me?”
“Oh, I definitely want to fuck you. But not the one and done scenario I can see you’re assuming behind that angry little scowl of yours.”
Furious, I try to pull my hands away. But he hangs on tight, refusing to let me escape.
“Then what is it?” I snap, heatedly. “A friend with benefits scenario?”
“Don’t demean my sincerity, Aspen,” Brose warns, though I get the distinct impression his tone is not to scare me. “Not when I want it all with you.”
“Pretty hard to take you seriously when we know nothing about each other,” I counter, trying to reason with him.
“Then get to know me. Spend the rest of tonight drilling me and I will you. If when the storm breaks you aren’t convinced we’re good for each other, well…I’ll take you home.”
He hesitated when saying, “take you home,” like he really doesn’t want me to leave, especially when he transfers both my hands to one of his and uses his free arm to wrap around my waist.
The way he draws me in has my heart jackhammering against my ribcage, not in a fearful sort of way, but in a way I’ve only imagined it feeling like to fall in love.
Falling for someone this fast is neither realistic nor safe. I attempt to shake the delusion from my head, but the girly-girl in me is twerking.
“I get this is fast,” Brose says, harnessing my attention once more. “But life is like that sometimes. If you don’t take advantage of the opportunities that arise, you may not get a second chance. I don’t want any regrets, not with you. If I leave you alone for the night only to say goodbye to you tomorrow, I will kick myself for not fighting harder for a chance with you.”
Spontaneous orgasm activated. I bite my lip, trying to stifle a whimper.
What is happening to me? I’m a practical woman—I don’t believe in love at first sight, or at least I didn’t. However, if you asked me right now, at this moment, I don’t think I could dispute it.
The years I wasted dating losers, and this guy literally pops out of the woods, carries me off a mountain, and has me hearing wedding bells. Common sense is slipping from my grasp with every word he says to me.
“This is crazy,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. He’s close, his lips inches from mine and taunting me to taste him.
“So is chaining yourself to a dead ponderosa during a lightning storm, but here we are.”
Everything Brose says is outrageous, yet I can’t help considering taking a chance on him.
The science geek in me never believed in destiny—things happen and that’s that.
And then Ambrose happened.
For whatever reason, fate brought us together in the Rockies, and I can’t deny this growing magnetism between us.
Would it really be the worst thing in the world to get to know the man who saved me?
No. But will it hurt me if Brose decides tomorrow he’s no longer interested?
Yes. No matter how short our time together will be, rejection always stings. Having had my fair share of rejection over the years, I’m tired of love letting me down.
How can I possibly do this while still protecting my heart?
Brose releases my hands, cupping my cheeks instead. “I can see the conflict going on in your head through your eyes. We don’t need to talk about anything or do anything you’re uncomfortable with. You set the pace and I’ll follow your lead. This doesn’t need to be hard. If it’s anything like I suspect it is between us, this will be the easiest thing in the world.”
Baffled, I ask, “How can you be certain?”
“Cause I ain’t never wanted this with anyone before you.”
Whoa! “Are you saying you’ve not had anything like the relationship you’re suggesting you want between us?”
“Met no one I wanted beyond a hookup until you looked up at me with those pretty green eyes of yours on that mountain. It’s like my heart took its first beat when I laid eyes on you.”
“Ambrose,” I warn, my resolve slipping. “Don’t play with a woman’s heart.”
“Look around, darlin’. I’ve been a comfortable bachelor, content with never finding someone to share this life with. Never needed to bring someone into my space before to accommodate a woman. In fact, you’re the only woman I’ve allowed in my home.”
I open my mouth to speak, only to shut it, unsure what to say. Here, I assumed he was looking for a night of fun. Hearing this revelation about his lack of past relationships oddly makes me feel more at ease with trying.
Doubt has me asking him one more question. “Are you feeding me a line of bullshit you tell women to get in their pants?”
Brose throws his head back, laughing, before he sobers enough to answer me.
“Not to sound like a jerk, but if I wanted an easy lay, I could find an easy lay. Instead, I’m here dodging decoys and pillows, putting up with your insults, and loving every second. I either have a sick fetish for abuse or I’m honestly interested in you. What do you think is more likely?”
Though I don’t know Brose, he makes a solid argument. Minus this mountain man, the percentage of men who would’ve tolerated what I put him through would be in the negative digits.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, pitting commonsense against desire.
The lumberjack tilts my chin until I have nowhere to look but at him. “Are you still scared of me?”
“No,” I say truthfully.
His face inches closer to mine, making my stomach dip with anticipation.
“Would you trust me enough to try something? I think it might help with your decision?”
Mesmerized by the steely gray of his gaze, I nod without thought.
Brose slowly dips his head to mine, his lips an inch away from my mouth. My pulse races, anxious and aroused. He’s close and yet too far.
“You push me away if you want to stop, ya got me? I won’t be hurt.”
My head nods as my body goes slack in Brose’s hold, ready to accept whatever it is he wants to try.
Brose doesn’t rush. He rubs his nose against mine, caressing me tenderly, intimately. His arm tightens a fraction around my waist while his thumb on his free hand brushes over my cheek in soothing strokes. This logger is gentle, attentive—the opposite of what I would expect from this burly man.
When his lips finally connect with mine, I melt.
His lips are pillow soft against mine, warm and enticing. I expected his beard to feel coarse against my skin, but it’s soft, conditioned, and smells of cedarwood. He effortlessly pulls me against his hard chest, molding his body against mine like we’re one.
With a slant of Brose’s heavenly mouth, he deepens the kiss. His drugging lips coax my mouth to part and his tongue to slip inside. A soft moan escapes me as I surrender to him, letting him lead.
The longer we kiss, the more desperate I become. My fingers fist into his thin t-shirt, holding on for dear life. I pant against Brose’s hot mouth as he alternates between full mouth kisses and soft pecks.
It drives me wild, bringing on a desire I haven’t felt with anyone before.
I need more.
I bite his bottom lip, tugging it between my teeth before releasing him. Brose hisses from the sting, gripping me around the waist and hauling me onto the island. He centers himself between my legs, his hand once cupping my face, now gripping me by the nape of my neck. His hold forces my head back, making me gasp. Brose plunges his tongue into my mouth, dominating me. I yield to him, letting him take his fill and in return he fills a want of mine—to be cherished.
I’ve never felt more loved in all my lack luster relationships combined as I do in this solitary moment with this bold mountain man.
Without warning, my emotions get the best of me and I cry. Nothing ugly, like snot sobbing. More like silent tears tracking slowly down my cheeks, almost like I’m relieved to have finally met a man who treats me as if I’m his world.
Brose doesn’t pull away or get disgusted as some men would with women’s tears. Instead, he moves his kisses from my lips to my tear-stained cheeks. Everywhere a teardrop is, Brose’s lips follow, kissing my sadness away.
When my eyes have dried, Brose holds me against him, his arms locked tight around me like he’s afraid I might slip away. He buries his face into my hair, breathing me in like his lungs can’t get their fill.
“Give me a chance, Aspen,” he husks against my ear.
My mouth opens on its own accord, saying words I never would’ve uttered before today.
“Alright, Brose. We can try.”