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Her Rough Mountain Outlaw: Blackthorn Mountain Men, book 6 Page 3
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Page 3
“We need to get you out of the rain, baby girl,” I growled quietly. “And those cuts need looking at, now.”
She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, her eyes darting over my face, peering through me, like she was trying to read my damn mind or something. But finally, slowly, she nodded.
“Okay.”
It was all the okay I needed.
Jackie gasped as I scooped her up into my arms, turning and marching back across the slick road towards my bike. I set her down astride it, between my legs, before I climbed on up after her. My arms slid around her, holding her to me as I gunned the engine to life.
Mine.
Mine to protect.
And suddenly, I had a reason to be. Suddenly, why I’d stuck around on Blackthorn months after landing here, with no real reason to stay made sense.
…I’d been waiting for her, I just hadn’t known it. And now that I had her?
Well, I was never letting her go.
The engine thundered under us, the rain poured down in sheets, the lightning exploded overhead, and I roared on off down the road.
5
Jackie
The rain was lighter as we pulled off the gravely side road and up to the front of a small house. I guess it was more of a cabin - this low wooden place with a front porch and a small garage next to it. It looked plain, but nice enough - definitely a place a guy lived, and lived alone, that’s for sure.
I’d debated what the hell I was doing the whole way here after my minor panic attack on the side of the road. I mean, let’s be real, I didn’t know this man. Sure, he said he knew a girl I only kind of knew. Sure, he was gorgeous in that ruggedly sexy, rough kind of way. But that was hardly a reason to trust him. But then, what other options did I have? I was hurt, my car was wrecked in a ditch, I had no phone, and my psycho abusive ex and his crooked cop friends were looking for me.
…Did I have any other options?
But, the more we’d driven, the more I knew I’d made the right move. Maybe going with Stone was reckless, but I knew deep down he wasn’t going to hurt me. And I wasn’t some lost little girl falling all over the first handsome guy who’d stopped for her and offered her help. I’d been fending for myself for years. I’d dealt with all sorts of creeps working in bars since I was young. Handsome or not, I knew I could smell trouble and bad intentions a mile away.
And with Stone? There wasn’t any of that. There weren’t any lingering or hidden warning lights going off in my head. He was rough, for sure, and maybe even a little scary. But he wasn’t going to hurt me.
…Or then, maybe I had hit my head harder than I thought, and this whole thing actually was as fucking stupid and insane as part of me still thought it might be.
Maybe as stupid and insane as fucking kissing him.
I shivered at the memory, heat blushing though me. God, kissing him had been…well, like nothing else I’d ever felt. Kissing him had been like kissing a thunderstorm - lightning exploding through me, thunder shaking me to my core. Kissing him had been the single hottest kiss of my life, and twenty minutes of driving later, my mouth was still hungry for more.
Stone motored the bike into the open door of the small garage and cut the engine.
“We’re here.”
He kicked the stand down and swung his leg over the bike.
“Where are we?”
“My place. Trust me, you’re gonna be safe here. I’ve got a phone, and I can patch you up from your crash.” His eyes held mine in the dimness of that small garage, the smell of engine and woods and man washing over me, making my pulse quicken.
“C’mon, let’s get you inside.”
His hands scooped me up, and I gasped as he lifted me with an arm under my knees and one around the small of my back, pulling me into his chest.
“I- I can walk.”
“But you don’t have to,” he purred quietly, sending heat rumbling through me. He ducked out of the garage, me in his arms as he jogged the three steps through the rain to the porch. He held me in one muscled arm - easily, like I weighed nothing at all - as he unlocked and then pushed open the front door. He stepped in, clicking on the lights before kicking the door shut behind him.
I swallowed, blinking as I glanced around the comfy, woodsy cabin. There was a sofa and a coffee table to one side, in front of large stone fireplace, a kitchen in another corner, and a big, solid looking wooden dining table. The ceiling was almost double height, and a set of wood steps led up through the rafters to a large bed in a little loft area.
Honestly, the place was gorgeous - like one of those cabin getaways I’d seen here and there on Airbnb when I’d daydream of a vacation that single moms just didn’t get.
Stone set me down, and I swallowed the heat from my face as he made his way across the room, filling a kettle with some water and putting it on the stove burner. I felt my face burn as I watched him, this lingering spark from before teasing through me.
So, that happened.
I’d kissed a stranger. A rough, tattooed motorcycle-riding stranger with bullet hole scars. A man who I still couldn’t quite tell if he scared me or turned me on. Or maybe it was both? Was that possible?
I didn’t realize I was staring until he was right back in front of me. And I didn’t realize I was shivering until he wrapped the thick, fluffy towel around me. I blinked, looking up into his eyes as he pulled the towel tight around me.
And that’s when I decided it wasn’t both. Stone didn’t scare me.
…He just turned me all sorts of on.
“Jackie.”
I blinked, shaking my head as I focused on him. “What?”
He grinned this roguish, fierce, hungry grin at me. “I said we need to get you fixed up. Some of those cuts look bad, and the one on your head might need stitches.”
I nodded, looking up into his eyes, his big hands still gripping the towel, like he was trapping me against his huge body.
…That is not a complaint.
“Jackie,” he purred, his eyes darting over mine, my pulse thumping. He slid one hand from the towel to the front of my soaked, dirty, bloodied blouse. Slowly, his finger ran down the front of it, bumping lightly over every button, making my breath gasp quietly with every single button as he moved lower and lower. His finger dragged over the button to my jeans, making my breath catch before he let it drop.
His eyes slid back to mine, holding my gaze fiercely.
“I’m going to take these off.”
Oh God.
It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a suggestion. Just, “I’m going to take your clothes off.” I mean, I knew I had cuts on my legs under my jeans and bruises and other cuts under my shirt, and taking the clothes off was way easier and more sanitary than trying to patch me up through the slashes to my garments.
But still. That man? With those eyes? With that hungry look, and those out of control muscles, and that rough, wild energy, and with all that ink and power? Telling me he was going to take my clothes off?
…All I could do was nod, my heart racing.
“Good girl.”
Oh fuck.
I kept telling myself this was just about him looking to make sure I was okay, and to patch up my cuts and bruises. But when he said those two words, it was like the whole room got a little warmer.
It was like my blood burned a little hotter inside of me.
Stone’s eyes locked with mine as he brought his hands up, pulling at the top button of my blouse. His thick fingers moved nimbly, popping one, and then another, his eyes just blazing into mine as he slowly opened my shirt. The towel dropped to my feet, and when he pushed the soaking wet blouse off my shoulders and down my arms, that dropped too.
I swallowed, panting as the heat bloomed through me. I could feel my nipples puckering to achingly hard points under my lacy white bra, and when I chanced looking down, I blushed even deeper.
…Right, my wet, completely freaking see-through lacy white bra. I bit my lip, knowing Stone could see my pink
nipples pushing right through the transparent material. I made a move as if I might cover myself, but I gasped when his hands pushed mine away.
“We need to get these off.”
His voice was all business, but when I glanced up into his face, I could see the hunger there. I could see the fierceness writ all over his face - the same sort of heat in his eyes that I felt blazing through me.
…Yeah, maybe I had hit my head harder than I thought, because here I was in a stranger’s cabin letting him pull my wet clothes off like we were about to play doctor.
His finger’s teased over my tummy, running over my bare, goose-bumped skin until they found the button of my jeans, He tugged it open, yanking my zipper down and making my breath catch before his hands slid to my hips. He pushed his fingers down, brushing them over the waist of my panties and down over my skin, pushing the wet jeans down my legs.
I moved, to help, but he shook his head.
“Don’t move.”
The rough, raw power in his voice had me trembling, my skin tingling as heat teased through me.”
“Don’t move until I know how bad you’re hurt.”
I nodded, panting, feeling my face burn like fire as this rough biker started to push my jeans down. He dropped to his knees right in front of me, peeling my pants off one leg at a time. I groaned, blushing furiously, knowing he was eye-level with my equally soaked-through lacy white panties. I could feel his gaze burning into me, setting me on fire as he tugged my jeans off one foot and then the other.
Stone lingered on his knees in front of me, and I could feel my skin burning, feeling his eyes trailing over every inch of me. I bit my lip, knowing he could see all of me - my white bra and panties clinging wetly to my body like some sort of damn spring break wet t-shirt contest.
“Sit here,” he purred, gently pushing me back onto the couch. I swallowed, crossing my arms around myself as he draped a blanket over me. He turned, moving to the fireplace and kneeling again. He stacked it with kindling and wood before he took a match to it, and somehow, in a matter of minutes, he had a big blazing fire crackling away.
He reached down, and when he peeled that soaking wet cotton t-shirt off of his grooved, muscled body, I trembled, my eyes darting over his body. He tossed it aside, stretching, his muscles rippling and tensing as he walked over to his kitchen area. He grabbed something off a shelf and came back over to me, a metal first-aid kit in his hands.
“Let me see that head,” he growled, sinking down next to me. His bare, rock-hard body coiled, muscles rolling and sending my pulse quickening. He leaned in close, brushing my hair away from the cut as he eyed it.
“You’re not gonna need stitches for this one, hang on. This is gonna sting though.”
He dabbed at it with an antiseptic cloth, making me hiss.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, swallowing at the nearness of him. God, here he was patching up my cuts and all I could think about was kissing those lips again.
He put a Band-Aid across the cut before he brushed my hair back behind my ear, pulling away.
“Show me the rest,” he growled lowly.
I swallowed, my face flushing with heat.
“The rest?”
“Take off the blanket, baby girl,” he groaned quietly, his eyes flashing fire. “Take off the towel and show me the rest of you.”
6
Stone
I gasped quietly, his hand lingering in my hair as he tucked that errant strand behind my ear.
“I need to check out those other cuts.”
I blushed. Right, of course. Duh.
I pushed the blanket off of me, shivering as his eyes slid over my almost bare body. I started to cover myself with my arms, but he shook his head, pulling them away.
“Let me see everything, baby girl,” he growled. His hands moved to my arm, tracing over my skin and the small cuts. He dabbled the antiseptic wash over a few places - a cut on my hand, my thigh, one calf, before he moved to the other side. His brow furrowed.
“This is gonna need stitches though.” His fingers traced over the back of my arm by my shoulder, and I winced, turning to see the blood I hadn’t noticed before.
“Shit,” I hissed. “Does this mean a hospital?”
Stone grinned. “Nah. I got this.”
He pulled needle and thread out of his med kid.
“Are- are you a doctor?”
He chuckled. “I look like a doctor to you, darlin?”
“No?”
His eyes held mine, that half grin half smoldering look of his piercing right through me.
“Iraq, with the Marines. I learned there. Now grab my arm, this is gonna sting.”
My fingers slid over his forearm, his skin warm and his muscles rippling under my touch as he moved in to the cut. I looked away, but when I felt him start to sew it up, I winced, hissing. My fingers clenched on his arm before I quickly let go, pulling my hand away.
“You can keep your hand there.”
“I don’t want to - ow - hurt you,” I groaned back as he needled another loop through the gash.
“Darlin,” Stone growled. His head turned, his eyes locking with mine as that cocky smirk spread across his perfect jaw. “You won’t.”
My hand slid back to his arm, holding him tight. And this time, I didn’t let go. I could feel the heat from his bare upper body, his skin almost brushing mine as he finished the last two stitches on my cut. He taped a bandage over his work before he pulled away.
“All better now,” he murmured. His eyes held mine, and suddenly, it wasn’t just the fire crackling in the fireplace that had the room getting warmer. Suddenly, it was like heat was spreading over me, making my skin tingle as our eyes locked. And all I could think of was that kiss, and how crazy this was, and how all I wanted was more as he leaned closer.
His hand slid over my jaw, cupping my face as he leaned in. My pulse thundered through me, and I could almost taste his lips again, when suddenly, at least part of my senses came rushing back to me.
Brooke. I have to call Brooke. I have to-
“I have a daughter.”
I cringed. The words just blurted out on their own, and in this way that felt like I was warning him. Maybe that was second nature at this point though. Maybe that’s what single moms did when the hot, rough biker like something out of steamy romance book was about to ravish them in his mountain cabin. Maybe blurting it out was my version of pinching myself to see if this was a dream, and if I’d wake up back in my wrecked car off the side of the road.
But Stone didn’t fade away. He didn’t even back away, actually. And nothing about him looked freaked out or like he was suddenly very much reconsidering what the hell he was doing with crazy me in his cabin.
Instead, he just grinned, one brow arching in this devilish way that got my pulse quickening.
“She wasn’t in the car, was she? Cause, telling me back there might have been a better move.”
I rolled my eyes as he smirked at me.
“Oh, now that would be some mother of the year shit right there.”
Stone chuckled before his look hardened a little. “Is she safe?”
I startled, blinking.
Is she safe? I barely even knew this man, he certainly barely knew me. And here he was, abruptly interrupted from ripping the rest of my clothes off and taking me any damn way he wanted by my crazy blurting out about being a mom. And his first thought is to ask if the daughter of mine he doesn’t even know is okay?
…God, was I dreaming?
“She’s safe,” I said quietly, chewing on my lip as our eyes locked. My brow furrowed, but I shook my head and looked away.
“What?”
I turned back to him. “What made you ask that?”
He frowned. “Because if she wasn’t, I was going to go out right the fuck now and make sure she was?”
I blinked again in shock, shaking my head at him as he gave me a funny look.
“You’re no
t used to people giving a shit, are you darlin.”
I shook my head.
“Well that’s some bullshit,” Stone growled. His thumb traced over my cheek as his hand slid back into my hair.
“I- I do need to call her.”
He nodded, uncoiling his gorgeous body from the couch and heading to a shelf next to the fireplace. He turned, holding up a cellphone.
“Your’s still wrecked?”
I nodded.
“That might be a good thing,” he muttered darkly. “Keep it off.”
“Why?”
Stone raked his fingers over his jaw. “The cops are looking for you, right?”
I was silent as my eyes dropped.
“That’s a yes,” he growled. “So this is one of the ways you stay not found. Keep your cell off.”
My brow worried as I looked up at him, almost not even wanting to ask the question lingering on my tongue.
“You’ve…” I shook my head. “Never mind.”
“You want to know how I know about evading the cops.” It wasn’t a question, he could just see the thought there on my face, wondering, or knowing that he’d done this before.
“Do I?”
Stone just grinned. “Use mine. Call your daughter, darlin.”
He turned, moving back into the kitchen and giving me some space as I dialed my sister’s number.
“Hey, it’s me,” I blurted out before Kennedy could say anything. “Just listen for a sec, okay? I had a car accident, but I’m fine, and I’m being taken care of, okay?”
“What?!” Kennedy’s voice bit through the phone.
“Kennedy-”
“What happened?! Oh my God, Jackie! Tell me where you-”
“Kennedy, Kennedy!” My voice sharpened, cutting her off. I couldn’t do hysterics right then. And besides, I needed her to be calm for Brooke.
“I’m fine, okay? Look, can you please put Brooke on?”