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“What are you doing here?” I ask with a slight tremor in my voice. But it isn’t fear because I make no move to cover myself. I want him to look. More than that, I want him to like what he sees.
“Mine,” he growls. The single word sends a bolt between my thighs, and I squeeze my legs together.
He sees me squirm and stalks across the room. He sweeps me into his arms. Next thing I know, I’m pinned between the wall and his hard body. His manhood is digging into my hip, and I know I don’t imagine the feral glint in his gaze.
“You’re the enemy,” I whisper right before his lips are nuzzling my neck, his beard teasing my sensitive skin. But even as I call him my enemy, I know the real truth. I belong to this mountain man.
4
BRENNON
She smells like honey and vanilla. As I nuzzle her neck, I feel as if I’ve found what I’ve been looking for. I didn’t even know something was missing from my life. Until her.
“You’re the enemy,” she whispers.
I don’t know what that means or why she thinks that way. But right now, I don’t care. All I want is this beautiful woman in my bed. I have to see her spread out, waiting and willing and wet. I have to feel her against me, the glide of our two bodies becoming one.
“Home,” I murmur against her skin.
She pulls away from me and looks up. “Home?” She repeats the word with a question in her voice and frowns.
I tap my chest, indicating I want to take her to mine.
She uses my distraction to step around me. She reaches for a pretty dress. Something green that makes her flushed cheeks look even prettier. I didn’t know a blush could be arousing. But with her, it is. Everything about her calls to me, pulls me in like a riptide. I’m drowning and I don’t want to be rescued.
“Home. My stuff is all at Andrew’s penthouse,” she murmurs as she smooths down the skirt of the pretty dress.
The idea of her things being in his place is enough to make me snap. Her things don’t belong at his place. They should be at mine. It should be my kitchen counters where her keys and sunglasses are scattered. It should be my sink that her dishes are in. It should be my floor that her clothes are on.
With a growl, I stride across the room and pick her up. I throw her over my shoulder with ease. She might be curvy but she’s a petite little thing. The perfect size for me to carry around whenever I want. The thought fills me with satisfaction. Yeah, this is how things should be.
“What are you doing?” She demands. Her voice sounds funny, probably because she’s inverted, and all the blood is rushing to her head.
I just grunt again, the tightness in my chest only easing once I’ve deposited her in the front of my car. I make quick work of the seatbelt, strapping in the most precious thing I’ve ever owned in my life. I’ve got to figure out a way to make this woman fall in love with me and quick.
“Suitcases,” she says. She points to the limo parked around the side of the church. My parents are going to shit when they realize we’re gone, but I don’t care. I want time alone with my new bride. Her gaze softens, and she promises, “I’ll still be here.”
I grab three suitcases I know have to be hers. They’re not masculine like Andrew’s and more than that, they’re worn. Not the luxury brand stuff that a wife of her status should be using. The thought fills me with relief. It’s one more reminder that I made the right decision by taking her from him.
The drive to Courage County seems longer than normal with her sweet scent filling the car and making my cock press painfully against the zipper of my slacks.
I should say something, tell her about the little town she’s moving to. The words don’t come easily. Instead, I grunt and point to the places that she might like. Downtown isn’t large, but it is beautiful with the snow-covered shops and icicle covered awnings in the early evening light.
Along the sidewalks, children pelt each other with snowballs and neighbors call out to one another. Courage is more than just a town, it’s a whole community. A place where everyone is safe and welcome. As soon as my friend, Nash told me that, I knew it was where I wanted to be.
Even now, I don’t leave my cabin much to go into town but that doesn’t matter. Everyone still greets me with enthusiasm and kindness. No one acts like I’m strange because I communicate mainly in grunts. They’re the kind of folks that accept you as you are. The world could use more of these places.
