Ordered By The Mountain Man: A Modern Mail-Order Bride Romance (8 page)

“
W
hat the fuck
, Mason?” I yell, pushing him in the chest.

“Oh, step off,” he says, pulling back. “Don’t be such a pussy.”

“I’m not being a pussy. I’m letting you know you need to back the fuck up. I’m done dealing with your shit.”

“Well, this business is half mine,” Mason says, shrugging away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I get it, you’re not dealing with Mom and Dad’s death well—but fuck, don’t take it out on me. Besides, I never said you needed to go; I just said you need to stop acting like a fucking asshole.”

“You’re the asshole. Your woman just ran out of here.”

I turn toward the door leading to the deck. Shaking my head, I exhale.

“Seriously, Mason, when we open tomorrow I need things to go smoothly.”

“I hear you. But isn’t that what your woman is here to do—take care of everything for you? You don’t need me here at all.”

His words hit home with me. “Oh, that’s what this is about? You’re mad I brought Delta out here to do the job you never wanted?”

Mason shrugs.

“You’re a fucking wreck, and I can’t fix you. Can’t fix
this
. I can’t bring them back.”

“I’m not asking you to fix a goddamn thing.” Mason runs his hand over his jaw. “I just don’t know what I want. And I can’t go until I have some plan. I was never the outdoor guy you and dad were. Fuck, I lost your pole on the boat yesterday. Who fucking does that? I’m good at getting drunk and getting laid, and not much else.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” I tell him plainly. I see that he’s upset, but shit, I can’t make him grow up. That’s something he has to do on his own.

“Give me another chance,” he says. “Let me fucking get my shit straight, okay?”

I clap him on the back, giving him a quick nod. “I know that today you were just trying to fuck with me, but I mean it: don’t fuck around with Delta,” I tell him. “You do that, and it’s over between you and me.”

“Roger that.”

“Good. Now I’m gonna go find my woman before she runs away because of you.”

* * *

O
ut on the deck
, I can’t find Delta anywhere. I head around to the front office, and hear the phone ringing. Answering it, I’m surprised at who’s on the line.

Dammit, not part of my fucking plan.

After taking the call, I drop the phone into the receiver, annoyed, but understanding that plans in the Alaska wild change. Emergencies arise, and life happens. I was just really hoping to seal the deal today.

Stepping outside the lodge, I see Dirk’s wife Sally carrying a basket of produce in her arms. I ask if she’s seen Delta.

“She went over to the barn,” Sally says. “I told her to stay close to the house if she was alone. Also, really quick? I wanted to ask if you’d like me to remove the stuffed animals in your room?”

I must look confused because Sally adds, “Because Delta is vegan, I thought the animals might upset her.”

I wave her off. “It’s just dead animals; they’re all over the lodge. I don’t think one bedroom is gonna make a big difference.”

“Okay, well … I thought I’d ask.”

“Thanks,” I tell her, just glad that Sally told Delta to stay close to the lodge. Wandering off alone in the Alaskan wilderness is a bad idea. I have no problem with her wanting to explore, but she’d need me by her side with a gun in my pocket before I’d let her go anywhere. Besides that, we’ve been doing construction out in the woods—a crew has been here recently, laying foundation for a new outbuilding—and I know there are holes being dug on the outskirts of the property. Someone could get hurt if they weren’t careful.

I walk around to the back of the property, toward the big red barn. This lodge is special, not only because we offer so many unique hunting and fishing trips, but also because the food is fantastic. Trey makes sure of that, and that’s saying something out here in Alaska. Raising our own cattle, chickens, and hogs means we have local, organic food.

Delta may have had a meltdown over the meat last night, but at least it was all free range and grass fed. She may think I’m some fucking hillbilly, but I’m not an asshole who doesn’t appreciate where my food comes from. If she could just calm down for a hot minute she might see that.

Our garden is also expansive and the women who visit value all the work we put into it. Delta will appreciate it, too, if she gets a chance to see that sure, we have some differences, but they aren’t enough to keep us from being happy as a couple.

“Delta?” I call, stepping into the cool barn.

She doesn’t answer, but I see her on the hay-covered floor of the barn, patting the back of a piglet who has nuzzled up to the gate. Walking toward her, I can’t help but smile. She’s so fucking gorgeous—and, sitting there with her long blonde hair flowing around her shoulders, she looks like an angel.

“Her mama just had a litter,” I say, resting my hand on the gate.

“I see that,” Delta says. “Did you name them yet?”

“Uh....” I’m not sure how to explain that you don’t fucking name your dinner.

“I think she looks like a Skylar.”

“Skylar?”

“Mmhm.” Delta scratches Skylar’s ears.

Ignoring the whole naming issue, I sit next to her, my back against the gate. “Sally told me you were out here. Wanna talk about why you ran out of the lodge?”

“Seriously?” Delta scoffs, shaking her head. “You know, you could just come with an apology, that would fix an awful lot.”

“What? I’ve known you for one day, so excuse me if I don’t understand exactly what riles you up quite yet.”

“Honestly, Boone, I don’t think you’re gonna get the chance to learn.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if you don’t understand why I’m angry, we’re totally incompatible. I don’t know what Monique was smoking, thinking we’d be a good match, because we aren’t. We’re just way too different.”

It pisses me off the way she goes to extremes so damn fast, and it makes me extreme, too.

“Is this because Skylar’s gonna make a good Christmas dinner?”

“What?” She scowls, looking up at me sharply. “You’re going to—”

“Eat her? Yeah. Damn, Delta, what do you think we do with pigs on a fucking farm?”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head, her lips in a frown. “But see, this is the very reason this won’t work. “

“Because you don’t eat meat? Shit, go fry yourself a slice of motherfucking tofu, find some micro greens in the garden and make a shitty kale smoothie—but don’t tell me you don’t want this marriage because of a fucking slab of bacon. You owe me more honesty than that.”

“You are so wrong,” she says, standing.

I follow her lead, wiping my hands on my pants as we face one another down.

“I don’t owe you anything,” she says, “after what you said in the dining hall.”

I pull back. “What? Because I said you were mine? That was the entire fucking plan. You came here for one reason, and one reason alone.”

“I came here to be a wife, not your property. There’s a big difference.”

I smirk, not buying her attitude. This girl loved riding my cock this morning, and I don’t even for a second believe she’s gonna be able to walk away from me for good, unless there’s something more she isn’t saying.

“I see,” I say, stepping toward her, closing the gap between us. “So you’re leaving because you only want to be ordered around the bedroom? Not ordered around my house?”

“Partly.” She crosses her arms, as if refusing my advance, even though I can see the desire in those eyes of hers, see the heaving of her chest, the hardening nipples under her soft cotton tank.

“So why else are you leaving?”

“I’m leaving, Boone, because I’m not ready to commit to being your wife.”

“Well, that’s not gonna be a problem today.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, looking up at me, confused.

“Pastor Vince called before I came to the barn. He got stuck in Anchorage with some family emergency. Won’t make it out for another week. No one is getting married today.” My eyes narrow, trying to read her, but what I really want to do is just fucking take her. I want to lay her on a pile of sweet yellow hay and fill her with my seed and tell her she’s mine. Not just when we fuck, but in everything we do.

“So what does that mean?” she asks.

“It means you aren’t being asked to make any vows yet.” I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her to me. “You may not want to get married today—and that’s your loss, girl—but it also means I have a week to convince you to stay.”

I take her hand and lead her outside the barn, lacing my fingers through hers. I want her to see my place, understand why this is my home and my land and the place I want to stay forever, raise our kids and make a life.

“See the garden here? We have interns come in the summer, they help with the planting and harvesting.”

“Like college kids?” she asks, walking with me over the grassy field where vegetables are already growing abundantly: rows of green beans and carrots, lettuces and chards.

“Yeah, free lodging. They just gotta put in hours outside each week. You met the kayak guides last night,” I tell her, pointing toward the lake where some of the girls are organizing gear on the shore. “They stay as guides in exchange for room and board, and a small stipend. The truth is, it’s easy to get people out here. It’s a once in a lifetime experience for a lot of people.”

“That’s awesome. I would have loved to work at a place like this in the summer, while I was in school.”

“Yeah?” I cock an eye at her, still trying to figure her out. “So it would have been a good enough adventure a year ago, but not now?”

“I don’t know,” she says. She and I lean against a fenced cow pasture. “I like to travel, and there are a lot of places I still want to see.”

“Me too. I haven’t been to many places. I’m a fucking workaholic.” I look over at her, resting my hand on the small of her back. “Having a smart woman as my wife, who could really help run this place, would give us the freedom to take time off, to enjoy ourselves.”

“Oh yeah?” I know she likes what she hears by the slight upturned corners of her mouth. “I think you’re trying to butter me up, Boone. Show me the garden, the cute animals, make me forget the reasons this might not be a great idea.”

“I’m not buttering anyone up.” I suppress a smile.

“No?” Her eyebrows raise, and I see the flicker of hope in her eyes, bright with possibility.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to me as we turn, looking out at the lake. The summer breeze rustles through the trees, and Delta smells as clean as the Alaskan air—fresh and open to our potential.

“I do want to travel,” I tell her honestly. “See the world. Fish in the South Pacific and soak in the hot springs in Iceland. I want to do shit, but I don’t want to wander aimlessly. I know where I belong. And I don’t see being grounded as a fault. I see it as a privilege.”

“A privilege?” She shakes her head, not understanding. “It’s seems constricting.”

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong, Delta. Your name, it means where a river diverges, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, a river can have lots of paths until it ends; so can life. Being here in Alaska doesn’t mean this is your whole world, your only path. Your life can be as big as you make it.”

“You make it sounds so easy.”

“Maybe it is.” I pull her to face me, looking intently at this woman who I want so badly to be mine. “Stay, Delta. I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”

“You want me to stay that badly?” she asks.

“I know what I want most of all,” I whisper in her ear.

“What’s that?” she asks, her lips nearing mine, parting ever so softly—and damn, I want her tongue in my mouth, her pussy on my cock.

“I want to have my way with you, right here, right now.”

“You planning on convincing me to be your wife by fucking me silly?”

“No,” I tell her slowly, but with certainty. “I plan on convincing you to stay by fucking you forever.”

Then I kiss her, hard, pulling her waist to me so she can feel my rock hard cock, before slapping her perfect ass. I tell her to climb the ladder to the loft and she inches up the rungs with me behind her, ready to take her as mine.

M
oments
after we’ve crawled up into the loft, I’ve let down my guard. As soon as he touches me, the idea of wanting to work at a resort in the South of France or, say, Tahiti, sounds dull in comparison to the lure of Boone’s body fitted against mine.

His hands run up my waist, lifting off my shirt in one fluid motion, and as I exhale I realize that whatever spell he casts on me when we’re naked, when our bare flesh is pressed against one another, is pure magic. People always talk about chemistry and connections—but damn, Boone and I are something else. Something more.

If the only thing we needed to decide on in order for us to work was what position to fuck in, I think we’d be fine. But the truth is, we have a heck of a lot more to work out if this thing between us is going to go any further than hot sex.

I’m not ready to think about it. In fact, I can’t think about it at all because Boone’s mouth is on mine and his hands grab my ass firmly as he pulls me closer to him, then closer still. Close enough to hear his beating heart and feel his pulsing cock now that our bodies are ready to be one.

“Oh, honey,” he growls in my ear as I tug the belt from his jeans, as I lower his boxers, letting his thick cock spring out.

“What do you want from me?” I purr seductively, standing before him in a bra and panties. Asking him to take control makes me feel desired, wanted—makes me feel sexy as hell. I wait for him to tell me what to do, realizing that he was totally right: I do love being ordered around the bedroom, but that’s so different than being ordered around in real life. Here, in this lace underwear and nothing else, just knowing that my body is going to take him and make him feel like a king, is enough to make this power dynamic get my pussy sopping wet.

“I want you naked. I want to see every inch of your skin bare so I know exactly what I’m taking.”

He unhooks my bra, letting my breasts fall out, and his mouth is on them in an instant, rolling his tongue around my hard nipples. He licks my skin, his hands filling with my breasts, his fingers grazing past my belly button toward my pussy. I contract in anticipation, and I swear I could get myself off just by squeezing my pussy hard and tight, and then slowly letting go—that’s how hot I am for Boone. He slides off my panties, which are soaked through as my pleasure and excitement seep out of me.

His hand flutters against my opening, and I moan slightly at his delicate touch. My eyes lower, watching his forearms flex as he presses two fingers into me. I eke out a soft whimper, knowing that it isn’t going to take much effort on his part for me to release, especially with his unbound cock right before me, so big and hard, practically begging to be sucked until his salty come fills my mouth. All I want is to taste him, to swallow him, to be filled with everything he can offer.

He pulls his fingers from my wet pussy, smacking my ass. His eyes are heavy and laden with desire; my back arches in the mounting pleasure. I reach for his cock, but he tells me “No.”

I bite my lip, shake my head in question.

“I want you to get on your hands and knees,” he tells me. “And then I’m going to mark you as mine.”

I don’t hesitate, I get on the floor, my knees against the worn wood of the barn loft, my hands bracing me as he kneels behind me, pressing his cock into my dripping gap.

I don’t want him to go slow, to ease into me. I want him hard, and fast; I want to filled and I want to be consumed.

In this moment, I want to be his.

He knows what I want without me uttering a word, because his cock fills me, his hands are tight on my waist as he pounds into my core. And, God, I can’t help but scream out in ecstasy.

“Oh, fuck, Boone. Yes, oh, oh, yes,” I cry. My voice starts high-pitched and needy, with a hint of desperation as I call out his name again, and again. And of course I’m desperate; Boone’s cock fills my pussy so entirely that it’s impossible to imagine anything else ever fitting so perfectly within me.

“Oh girl, I’m gonna make you come so hard.” And he does; he thrusts deeper and my body is on fire, my skin tingling with pleasure and the fast pulse of climax. My toes curl and I moan, my back arching and my head thrown back. Boone holds my tits with both hands as I come, again and again against his body.

He pulls out of me sharply, and grabs at my waist so I turn on my back, falling into a pile of sweet hay. The stalks poke against my ass, but I don’t care. I can’t think of pain when so much pleasure is coursing through me.

Boone’s face is filled with heat, and he holds his cock in his hand, pumping his shaft as it begins to spurt all over my chest. My legs are fast and wrap around him as ropes of his creamy come fall across my chest, and my hands roll across my breasts, my fingertips taking what he releases. I put my fingers to my mouth, tasting him as he watches. His cock is still hard and all I want is him in my pussy. It’s only been a minute since he left my entrance, but I swear I’m missing something when he isn’t filling me.

“I want you in me,” I beg. “Please fuck me again. I need you.”

Boone looks at me with such confidence it makes me blush—with such confidence it makes me touch myself. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since you arrived.”