CHAPTER THREE
DIANA
Shadows flicker across the ceiling as I tilt my head to down a second shot of tequila. My eyes squeeze shut with the burn of alcohol warming my throat and chest. It’ll probably be my last for the night since I don’t plan on getting drunk with a giant stranger sitting next to me.
A giant, sexy stranger.
Unbidden, my gaze drops to his lap where the largest dick imprint I’ve ever seen keeps a steady rush of arousal coursing through my body. I lick my lips. God, I really want to know what that feels like in my mouth. In my pussy.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything but silicone between my thighs and breaking that celibate streak with the steel rod Soren’s packing? A shiver of anticipation erupts at the possibility.
“Are you still cold? I can add another log to the fire.” Soren shuffles toward the fireplace to toss a log on the crackling flames, causing the sweatpants to adhere to his firm ass.
Get a grip, Diana! I’m not usually an ass girl, but everything about this man has me aching in need. Suddenly, I’m a horny teenager instead of a respectable thirty-six-year-old woman.
“Thanks,” I mumble, setting the empty glass tumbler on the floor beside me.
We moved the coffee table out of the way, so the couch could be shoved closer to the fire.
Now, we’re both sitting on a faded rug with our backs leaning against the couch.
“You said your daughter is with her mom this weekend. You’re divorced? ”
I’m desperate to know if he’s single. If there’s a shot for something more tonight.
If I’m brave enough to reach for it, that is.
“Never married. Got close, though.” He scrubs a hand over his beard and sighs.
“Marsha and I were high school sweethearts, then we had an on-again/off-again relationship until she got pregnant. I proposed, we set a date after Sara Beth’s birth, then Marsha decided she wasn't ready to settle down and dumped both of us.”
“I’m so sorry. That sounds horrible.”
He shrugs, his broad shoulders stretching my old tee. “It was over a decade ago. We’re on better terms now.”
“But no chance of getting back together,” I double-check for my own peace of mind. “And no one else has taken her spot yet.”
“Nope, and no one will. Sara Beth is my life now. She’s got plenty of family between my grandpa and siblings.”
“How many? I’ve got a younger brother.”
“Try having three younger brothers and a little sister. I’m the eldest.” He finishes his tequila shot and rests his head on the sofa cushion.
“You mean the responsible, rule-following perfectionist? I know it well. My brother, Titus, is seven years younger than me—a surprise baby—and a whirlwind of rebellion. I love him, but his antics are hard on our parents.”
“So, you make sure that whatever you do doesn’t burden them, too,” he finishes my unspoken words.
A tenuous bond of understanding twines between us.
Wrapping my arms around my bent knees, I lower my chin to the makeshift pillow.
“That’s part of the reason why you found me outside.
Maybe I should have ignored my desire to join the storm.
To absorb its chaotic power. But it seemed safe enough to enjoy a few minutes of freedom when I rarely give in to my more reckless cravings. ”
A rumble of curiosity comes from Soren. “What other reckless cravings do you have, Diana?”
There’s no mistaking the note of lust in his voice, or the jerk of his cock and the tiniest of wet spots forming at the tip. He’s leaking pre-cum? For me ?
A flash of lightning brightens the windows surrounding us. The electricity I felt earlier on the cliffside has magnified—burns a fiery path through my veins, straight to my throbbing clit. Now is my chance to grab something for myself.
Stop curbing your desires.
Soren is a stranger, but he seems safe enough. He talked about his family. His daughter. A dangerous man doesn’t discuss his personal life so casually, right?
“Diana?” His deep voice tickles my senses as amber eyes seek an answer to his question.
Swallowing my nerves, I unfold from the protective ball I formed and slowly move to straddle Soren’s thick thighs, cautiously settling over his hard arousal before forcing my gaze up to meet his.
If I see rejection or disgust, I may melt into the floor, never to show my face around these parts again.
But it’s not repulsion outlining his rugged features.
It’s barely restrained desire.
This is happening—a passionate fling with my very own mountain man.
And I can’t wait.