5. Avery
AVERY
I wriggle hard against his taut, muscled body, but it’s useless. His strength is overpowering. My heart is racing, my pulse thudding in my ears, but it’s not just out of fear anymore. It’s something else.
There’s a thrill rushing through me. Terrible thoughts I should not be having about a man who tied me to a chair and threatened me with a knife.
A man who could kill me in the blink of an eye.
But the way he gripped me and pinned me down with both wrists in one hand—no man has ever touched me that way.
And it’s hot as hell.
The fact that I can taste him on my tongue after that little bite I gave him makes him even hotter. And judging by the look on his face, he seems to agree.
“So laying me down by the fire in your mountain mansion, that’s your move?”
He fully grins, somehow becoming even more handsome. “I don’t have a move, angel.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You’re the first woman who’s been up here since I moved in.”
There’s that smell again. Man with the hint of something else—shampoo or soap. It’s so good it’s dangerous.
“Bullshit.”
His eyes narrow, and he gently traces the line of my cheek with the back of his hand. I was already blushing, but this makes it even worse. A heat tingles between my thighs, and I swallow hard, trying to compose myself.
God, what’s happening to me?
I want to look away, but all I can do is stare up at him hopelessly—my mountain man captor, my savior, my caretaker. He’s definitely ex-military. Who knows what this man has done. How truly dangerous he is.
…The thought sends my heart blazing.
I can’t deny it anymore. I want him. I’m twenty years old and still a virgin. And it’s not because I’m socially awkward or hate men. I’ve always just been waiting for a moment like this. Where you feel something in your gut, in your heart, and it tells you that you’ve found the one.
Back in high school, I had a couple boyfriends, but the most we ever did was kiss.
Every time they tried to take things further, I made them back off.
They lost interest quickly after that. My friend Tiff introduced me to a ‘personal toy’ that would take the place of a guy, and that’s what I’ve been relying on for the last couple of years.
But now…I’m already imagining what it would be like to have this man take its place.
I must be insane. I don’t even know his name, his history, why he’s up here or whether I can trust him. But at the same time, he’s brutally gorgeous, built like a sculpture, and he handles me like I already belong to him.
“Still cold?”
My breath catches, and I swallow hard as I snap out of my fantasies and back to reality.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re shivering, gorgeous,” he says, his voice low as he lowers his body onto mine. “Should I move you closer to the fire?”
I blink twice and shake my head. “Oh, no. I’m not…I’m fine.”
His muscled physique radiates warmth like an engine.
There’s not an ounce of fat on this man.
His biceps seem impossible, and I could wash my clothes—if I had any—on his abs.
As he shifts his weight, I feel a bulge from between his thighs.
It presses against my mound, sending a jolt through me like nothing I’ve felt before.
“Your thigh.”
I blink, returning to my senses.
“What?”
“Your thighs, princess.” He runs a finger up the inside of my thigh, dangerously close to my pussy. For such a strong man, he’s shockingly delicate. “You’re red from the cold. I need to put some ointment on it.”
“You…have something like that?”
He chuckles. “I live on a mountain, sweetheart.”
As he sits up, a force like gravity tugs at my eyes, and I feast on the chiseled lines of his abs. My breath catches, and I tingle all over.
“Wait,” I whisper. “What’s your name?”
His eyes narrow as he looks down at me. “My name?”
“It’s only fair. You know mine.” He just stares back at me. “Come on, you said you’re not letting me go. What’s it matter?”
He continues to stare, then slowly, his lips twist into a grin.
“Rourke,” he replies, the perfect tone of his virile voice sinking into my chest.
“Rourke.” I nod, testing the feel on my tongue.
“Affirmative.”
“See? I knew you were military.”
He stands, chuckling, but doesn’t respond. I watch from the hearth as he walks to the bathroom, the defined lines of his sculpted back moving with each step. My head starts to spin, and I’m almost thankful for the few seconds he’s gone. It’s like a brief respite from magnificence.
When he returns, he’s carrying a tube of ointment that he sets beside me. Kneeling, he squirts a little on his hand, then gently rubs it on the tender spot on my thigh.
“Can I…have my clothes now, please?”
He shakes his head, his biceps rippling. “Negative.”
“Why not?”
I’m blushing again. I don’t know why. I’ve been naked in front of this man for a while now. It’s not like he hasn’t seen all there is to see.
“Because, angel. They’re still wet. Like you.”
My stomach clenches. I have to fight hard to keep my jaw from dropping. It’s like this man just shined a spotlight on me.
“I–I am not,” I protest, but I know it’s pointless. I can’t hide from him. Still, I twist my hips and clasp my thighs together.
“I turn you on.”
I shake my head, looking up at his chiseled, mountain-man physique. “No. You scare me.”
“Don’t be afraid, beautiful,” he mutters, leaning closer. “Hurting you is the last thing on my mind.”
“And the first?”
His tongue drags slowly across his lower lip as his electric eyes send a surge through me.
Calm down, girl, I hiss inside.
“Protecting you.”
I sneer back. “Oh, right.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, angel.”
My eyes roll involuntarily, but his gaze remains firmly on me. On my nakedness. This man has seen every inch of me, and despite my thighs clamped together, he’s right: I am wet.
“No? Then what’s the second thing on your mind?”
He takes a breath, causing his massive chest to expand to an even greater size. The muscles on either side of his sculpted jaw flex as his eyes narrow and his tempting lips twist into a smile.
“I think you know.”
The spot on my hip where he applied the ointment is buzzing pleasantly, as if I can feel myself healing. Such tenderness from such a brutish man. I fall into his eyes, feeling my cheeks tingle and my thighs blaze.
“I have no idea—”
Before I even realize what’s happening, Rourke has his lips on my thigh, kissing me just beside my frost burn. Then he’s moving up, kissing my belly on his way to my breasts. I gasp, but he moves past them and places his lips where he bandaged my shoulder.
A tiny squeal emerges from my throat.
“See? You know,” he growls, clearly pleased with himself. “And you didn’t stop me.”
My blush deepens, tingling so hard it’s painful. My eyes lock with his as my body blazes, and I feel that feeling—the one I’ve been waiting for—like a chain wrapping around us, growing tighter…
…tighter…tighter…
“You’ve made it pretty clear I couldn’t,” I whisper back. “Stop you, that is.”
“That’s true,” he replies, his voice low and grizzled. “But be honest, princess. Would you even want to?”
My heart threatens to break through my ribs as the world starts to spin. “I…” My voice fights me, like my body doesn’t want me to respond. “I…don’t know…”
With unbridled confidence, Rourke shakes his head. “You wouldn’t.”
And just like that, his lips envelop mine, and he kisses me.
And my world changes.