Ordered By The Mountain Man(20)

“Listen, we may have our differences—but, girl, I won’t let you fucking drown.”

I want to believe him. Believe that it could work. Will work. Still, I hesitate, “I just ... the wedding is happening so soon.”

“Good,” he says, turning off the engine, and pulling me over his lap so I’m straddling him. “I want to marry you. Make you my wife. Do things right. Fuck, that’s the only reason you’re here. To be my bride.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to commit,” I admit, surprising myself.

“Why, you want to go back to some scraggly-ass cock that you had before you met me? Because we both know I ruined your pussy for any other man. Your pussy belongs to me, and you know that my cock is what you need.”

I swallow as heat rises from my core. His commanding words remind me that I am not straddling some basic guy in Portland. I am straddling an untamed man in the wilderness.

“Girl,” he says, using his fingers to lift my chin to meet his eyes. All of a sudden an intense surge of electricity begins to flow from his body to mine. “What else do you want? Because I’ll give it to you. I’m a man who knows how to take care of his woman.”

I want to tell him that sure, he knows how to work my body into a frenzy, and that sure, I want an adventure. But marriage is starting to feel fucking real, more real than I can handle. A pastor will be here to marry us this afternoon. I’m not ready to forfeit my entire life at twenty-two for no reason. My back isn’t against a wall. This was something that started as a joke and became something real.

Can I really marry him knowing a divorce is imminent? That makes me feel like a monster. Like I’m playing him for a fool.

And damn, even with my flawed logic and sketchy past, I know that Boone deserves more than that. More than me.

“I think I might disappoint you.”

“Fuck that,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist, inching me closer to him. His cock is under me, hard and needy. “Have you ever been around a married couple? Shit, disappointment is a fucking guarantee. That’s life, Delta.”

“I haven’t been around many married people. I told you my mom died when I was young. And I never knew my dad. My grandpa raised me on his own.”

“Still, I don’t believe you came all the way out here just to run away.”

“It’s a lot of pressure. Making a decision by this afternoon.”

He looks at me hard, eyes narrowed, and the mood has shifted again. His commanding presence has turned from sex appeal to detached, and he leans away from me. “I thought you’d made the decision on this arrangement before you came.”

“I did, but Monique wasn’t exactly forthright. And I just….”

“Just what?” He raises his eyebrows, and I feel small in his lap, knowing he doesn’t like the way I’m pulling back.

I just never expected him to be so ... real. This mail order bride thing sounded so ridiculous and over the top in my head, when I left Oregon with my friends. But being here, my body so close to his, our lips parted—us wanting one another, but first needing to clear the air ... I realize that there’s nothing silly about this at all.

This moment is about choice and commitment and our fucking lives. This isn’t a joke.

“I just don’t want to do anything you or I will regret,” I tell him honestly. Because it feels wrong to lie to him, to pretend I’m something I’m not. I don’t operate that way. Sure, I like a good time, but not at the expense of another person.

He draws in a breath, nodding slowly, hearing my words. I’m scared he’s going to toss me out of his lap, drive this boat back to the dock, and get my ass on a plane.

But Boone is nothing that I expect.

“Listen, I can’t guarantee anything,” he says, watching me with an intensity I match. “But I know you won’t regret being with me. You won’t regret spreading those legs.” His hands run over my bare stomach, causing my belly to flip-flop in pleasure. “You won’t regret getting on your knees and you won’t regret sucking my cock.” He pulls off my Lycra top, revealing my breasts in the early morning air. “And your pussy won’t regret the way it feels when you sit on my face, won’t regret having my tongue sucking your bare cunt until it drips.” He runs his hand over my hard nipples, bringing his mouth to my breast and sucking hard, his tongue swirling against my skin deliciously. My pussy clenches in desire ... knowing he’s right: there’s no way I could possibly regret this moment.

“Then take me, Boone,” I tell him. “Show me what you and I could be.”