Ordered By The Mountain Man: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance (3 page)

BOOK: Ordered By The Mountain Man: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance
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Chapter Three
Boone

H
er legs are
long and lean, and all it takes is a moment to imagine all the ways I can wrap her around me.

“Twins?” she asks, incredulous, looking between Mason and me. “Really?”

“Is that a problem?” I ask, ruffled that she even glances at Mason. My entire life has been a competition between that dickweed and me. I didn’t order a bride to share her.

“Not a problem at all, just kinda like something you’d read in a romance novel. Not real life. Like, I’m a mail order bride, which to be fair is insane enough, but then I show up here and find myself two rugged mountain men. Pretty hot, honestly,” she says, laughing.

Mason is laughing behind me, and my jaw tenses. He always gets obnoxious when he’s insecure, but I don’t know what he’s so anxious about. I’m the one getting a fucking wife today.

And I don’t want my brother to be a part of some novelty. I want this woman for myself. I need to make that absolutely clear from the get-go.

“There’s only one man here for you,” I tell her with a slight edge to my voice. I want to make it absolutely clear that I am hers.

She smiles. “Sorry, maybe that was awkward.” She laughs uneasily as she takes me in. But I’m already annoyed.

Mason was a motherfucker all day on the boat, puking his guts all over my deck, and I don’t want him to swoop in and give her any reason to look at him.

“So, how am I supposed to tell you apart?” she asks.

I look down at my inked arms, evergreen tress covering them. When I look back up, she’s watching me closely, a hint of a smile playing across her face.

“Easy enough. Just make sure you both wear short sleeves for a while, okay? I don’t want to end up with the wrong man.” She laughs uneasily, and I don’t join her. There’s nothing funny about her hooking up with Mason. “Anyways, I’m Delta.”

“What kind of bullshit name is that?” I cross my arms as I stand in front of her. I like how tall she is—nowhere near my stature, of course, but not some little girl. Delta is a fucking goddess.

She squints as she takes me in, her eyes grazing over my body. I gather from the way Dirk was laughing that they were getting along just fine. I also gather that maybe it was kind of a dick move to ask about her name that way.

Tact has never been my fucking strength.

“Wow ... so you’re friendly
and
hot.” She laughs, rolling her eyes, and I notice that she glances over at Mason. Taking in a deep breath, she starts again. “Right. So, Boone, since you’re so curious, a delta is the point where a river divides,” she explains, her tone friendly enough, even though I deserve something much more curt. “My mom was from the south. Mississippi. Anyways, she wanted to name me something that reminded her of home. She thought it would make her feel closer to the people she loved, even if they were far away.” She shakes her head apologetically. “Now I’m rambling.”

“So do your parents
know
that you’re here, with me?”

“What?” She pulls back, shaking her head with less regret. “No, my mom passed away when I was young.”

“Fuck. Sorry,” I tell her, feeling like shit for bringing this up within five seconds of meeting the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

She crosses her arms. “So, what kind of name is Boone anyways?”

“Come again?”

“Boone. Is that some made up name?”

“Boone was my father’s name. He and my mother died last year.”

“Oh.” She bites her bottom lip, looking to the sky. “This is awkward. I’m sorry. I was planning my exit while riding in Dirk’s truck. But then Dirk parked, and I realized he wasn’t my husband, and I got all flustered. And now we’re talking about dead parents and their names … and being a mail order bride is the weirdest thing that I’ve ever done, which is saying a lot, but I don’t want it to feel creepy. And maybe now it does?” She takes a deep breath, shoulders back, and smiles. “Can we start again?”

I stare at her, not at all having expected a woman so sexy and direct, not at all shy or scared. Delta is not fucking messing around.

“You thought you were sent here to marry Dirk?” asks Mason with a wide smile, taking the steps two at a time. “We do love Dirk, but it might break my little brother’s heart if you didn’t want him.” He stops beside me, clapping my back. “Though now that I’m getting a good look at you, maybe you and I should take a test drive before you marry my brother.”

I shove him away. He always makes things about him, always has to be the one getting the attention.

All the while being an irresponsible ass.

And I’m the grown-up.

I watch Delta watch him. She doesn’t seem swayed by his carefree attitude. In fact, her eyes are all over me. We keep our eyes on one another, and I feel a connection between her and me.

Damn, Monique from the agency knows what she’s doing. I never expected such a gorgeous woman to come my way, let alone one that I was so immediately drawn to. Yet here Delta is.

“I did think Dirk was my fiancé,” she says, looking over at Dirk and smiling. “To be honest, I was pretty scared. No offense, Dirk.”

“None taken, darling,” Dirk says, kissing her cheek. “Frankly, I’d be scared if you were mine, too. Don’t think I could handle such a pretty young girl. Now, I’m going to take these bags to your room now, all right?”

She nods, then turns back to Mason and me.

“So you were planning your getaway?” Mason asks her.

“Something like that,” she murmurs, still looking at me. “But I’m glad I didn’t leave.”

“Since Boone’s an ass who doesn’t see the need to introduce us,” my brother says, “I’ll take it upon myself. I’m Mason, Boone’s twin brother.”

“Good to meet you, Mason,” she says slowly before looking up at me, her pouty lips parting. “Boone, Dirk told me all about you.”

“Did he now?” I ask, wondering what exactly Dirk would say about me.

“He did. Said you’re nicer than you seem.”

“That’s about right, Boone doesn’t make things easy for anyone. You wanna be his friend, you’ve gotta work him over for a while. It’s the reason he needed me to come help here at the lodge. His presence scares the guests,” Mason quips, looking between Delta and me.

“You ready to get the fuck out of here, Mason?” I ask, not having the energy to deal with his supposed wit and humor. If you ask me, he’s an immature asshole who gets what he wants. And I’m apparently his enabler.

“Whatever, Boone,” Mason says, scoffing as he steps away. “I’ll see you both in an hour or so, for dinner, unless you’d rather I take you to my room, Delta?”

Delta’s eyes crease in confusion.

“I’ll take that as a no, for now.” Mason wags his eyebrows at her, and I shove him away. What a fucking prick. This woman is mine, not his. He can order his own goddamn wife if he wants one so badly.

Mason laughs, then jogs off, and it’s just her and me.

“What else did Dirk say?” I ask, realizing her tits look fucking amazing in her little blouse, noticing that her eyes are deep chocolate brown and that I want to run my hands through her long hair, wrap it in my fists as I take her as mine.

Delta licks her lips. “He said you might seem more intimidating than you really are.”

“Are you intimidated?” I ask, stepping toward her.

“Maybe a little,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting all of this.” She gestures at me, sighing slightly as she does. “I wasn’t expecting that you’d be mine.”

“You get me all to yourself. You just have to follow a few rules.”

“Good,” she says, moving toward me. “Because I came here to be someone’s woman.”

“You want me to tell you what to do?” I ask, my arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close to me. I want her to feel my cock, to know I’m a real fucking man.

“Back home I could do what I pleased,” she says, her voice low and sultry. “But now I want to do things different.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, my mouth leaning to her ear. “What would you like to do different?”

“Instead of pleasing myself, maybe I could please you.”

Chapter Four
Delta

A
m I horny as hell
? Yes.

Is Boone hands down the hottest man I’ve ever met? Certainly.

Any way I could have met a man this sexy anywhere else? Not a chance.

His twin brother Mason has nothing on Boone. Mason is all boyish charm and douchebag allure. I don’t want a boy who’s looking to get laid. I want a man who is ready to fuck.

And Boone is beyond panty-melting, lip-licking perfection. He’s going to be my husband, and his commanding presence tells me he has no questions about what to do with me in the bedroom.

I know I said this was going to be a short-term adventure of a marriage that would eventually end, because I’m twenty-two and not actually going commit to anyone forever.

But if this insta-lust is anything to go by, I may be sticking around longer than I thought.

“Delta?” he growls, leaning in closer, his mouth brushing against my ear. “We’re going upstairs. I’m not eating dinner or showing you around my place until I can see your body stripped down, bare. Until I can spread your legs and press myself into you.”

“Okay,” I murmur, breathless. I swear his low, gravelly voice could get me to orgasm. My core tightens, as his growing cock is hard against my belly.

He grabs my hand, and his strong grip leads me up the porch, through a massive set of double doors. I want to see my new home, but I can’t even stop to look around the lodge because my eyes are glued to his tight, perfect ass. My eyes cannot, no matter how hard I try, leave his backside.

Before I know it, he’s flung open a door, thrown me over his shoulder, and carried me across the threshold.

“I was not expecting this,” I tell him, as he sets me down. I look him over and I just want my hands everywhere, on every square inch of him.

“What did you expect?” He steps closer once again, and I love how he is so fucking in control—he doesn’t ask if it’s okay, doesn’t hesitate. He’s no boy making his first move. Boone is a man, and I can tell by the way he lifts the hem of my blouse that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And damn, he’s doing it well.

“I expected that some mountain man who ordered a bride might not know his way around a woman.”

He lifts my top over my head, and his hands unbutton my jeans, shoving them past my hips.

“I ordered a bride because I don’t have time to fuck around with women who don’t want to be wives.”

“Oh,” I say, biting my lip as I step out of my shoes and jeans. Now, standing before Boone in a tiny thong and lacy white bra, I feel a twinge of guilt. He wants a wife. Not a fuck-buddy.

Well. We can discuss that later.

Right now I just want him out of those clothes.

“So you must be really busy if you don’t have time to date,” I say, as I watch him tug off his shirt, drop his jeans. He stands in a pair of boxer briefs, his cock standing at attention, practically begging to be set free.

Oh, I am certainly able to help with that.

“Yeah, I’m busy, Delta—but don’t worry. I have plenty of time to play.”

“Good,” I tell him, wiping my hand across my lip, scared I may be drooling as I take in his completely ripped chest. His biceps are fierce, and his evergreen tattoo covers his right arm. I want to run my hands all over his solid body.

And no, I’m not looking at his eyes, or looking at his heart. Nope. Not even sorta. I’m only looking at his chiseled skin, because I am a self-absorbed woman who is horny as hell.

Apparently Boone is equally interested in getting to the good stuff, because he deftly unhooks the back of my bra, letting it fall aside. His hands take hold of my tits; his thumbs run over my hardening nipples.

Oh, I am so wet for this man. I literally squeeze my thighs together, because I need some sort of pre-release. I’m ready for him to take me—yet he’s never even kissed me.

There are no metaphors happening here. We’re just ready to devour one another.

My fingers hook on his waistband, and I edge them lower, my breath catching at the narrowing V pointing straight to his package.

I pull down his briefs and lower to my knees. Kneeling, I pull off his briefs completely, letting them fall to the floor. His cock is free. And fuck me now, it’s gloriously right in my face.

And it’s hard as hell, thicker than I’ve seen, and long enough to fuck me sideways and backwards and … I don’t even know what that means except
Yes. Please. Now
.

“You like what you see, Delta?” he asks in a slow drawl. It’s not a southern accent by any means; it’s an accent that says
I want you to suck me off right this minute
.

“You have the sexiest cock I’ve ever seen.” It isn’t a lie or an exaggeration; it’s nothing but the unadulterated truth. He’s hard and huge, and I want to lick him until he comes all over me.

“You seen a lot?” he asks.

I run my hand over his hardened shaft; it’s warm and heavy and makes my core ache with desire. Looking up at him, I smile. “I’ve seen enough to know you have the best looking cock my pussy’s ever seen.”

“Good. I wanted my wife to think that.”

I stroke him up and down, the tip of his cock so pink and needy. I can’t resist.

Then he’s in my mouth, and I wrap my lips around him, widening so I can fit his thickness inside. I move my head closer to him, taking as much as I can. My fingers find their way to his nice, tight set of balls, and I fondle him, closing my eyes, imagining him fondling me, later.

My mouth is so full of him that I gag, but I don’t care. Some slut-shamers might say I’m a skank for stripping down with a man minutes after meeting him, but I don’t give a fuck. In my mouth is the cock of the hottest man I’ve ever seen. I’m winning this round.

“Delta,” he breathes. “You’re amazing.” He runs his fingers through my hair, causing my spine to prickle with anticipation. “So fucking good.”

I love his dirty mouth—and his firm ass, which I grab, pulling him closer, deeper, until I can’t take any more of his cock.

I feel him tightening in my mouth as he nears release, and I suck harder, wanting so badly to blow him until he comes. Until I can swallow. Until I can taste what he has to offer.

He thrusts into me, and I take him. He comes, spouting his thick, salty come in my mouth, and I swallow, greedy and desperate. I swallow, wanting him to slide off my panties and lick my mound up and down until I’m dripping for him. Then I want him to enjoy my sweet release.

I pull him out of my mouth with a pop, and look up at him, grinning. “You like that, Boone?” I ask, smacking his perfect ass again. “You like it when I suck you?”

“I fucking love it.” He takes my hand and pulls me to standing, then rolls his hands over my tits again. My core is just begging for his fingers to graze lower, to press within me.

He picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and I’m amazed at his strength, his massive arms and willingness to carry me to his bed.

“You’re going to lay on your back and let me lick you until you gush, understood?” He leaves a trail of kisses from my neck to my belly button.

I fall into a pile of pillows on the large four-poster. The bed is covered in a wool blanket, and the shades are drawn. The lights are off, and I want him to lower himself into me right this second so I can run my hands over his bare back where the muscles stretch. I want to run my hands through his thick hair and bring his mouth to mine.

He sits before me on the bed, right between my legs, and reaches for my tiny lace thong. He pulls it off, exposing me completely. His hand runs over me, stopping at my well-waxed pussy.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, Delta,” he says, his fingers parting my pussy as he rubs at my opening in a slow, circular motion. As he rubs me, I melt into the mattress. “And when you’re my wife, I’m planning on taking you every day. Understood?”

He presses two fingers deep inside me, and I moan, arching my back. I cover my face with my hands, overwhelmed with the giddy sensation pulsing through me. How is this man mine?

It feels way too good to be true.

“I understand,” I tell him, panting in pleasure as he flicks my pussy—lightly enough to take my breath away, but hard enough to make me writhe beneath him. “You can order me to do whatever you like.”

I have always been with guys who want me to take the lead and I assumed that I liked being in charge. But the way Boone takes control in the bedroom, tells me his plans? It turns me on. He’s a real man.

He doesn’t need permission. He takes what he wants.

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