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  I cleared my throat and tried my best to smile at him. “Thank you,” I said, taking the bottle and screwing off the top. I was an accomplished athlete and my pulse should’ve already recuperated to resting rate, but with this man in front of me, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. My hands were shaking as I took a swig, and it was like I had never drunk before in my life, the cold water spilling down the front of my racing tank.

  “Shit,” I whispered under my breath, brushing the water off my top.

  “Here,” Mr. All-American smiled again and handed me the towel from his back pocket.

  I shook my head and thanked him, dabbing at the water with his towel. It was extremely soft, and I noticed that it had LL embroidered on it in gold.

  “Thank you,” I managed to stammer.

  “You’re welcome,” he grinned, his impossibly perfect teeth glinting in the sunlight.

  “LL?” I asked as I handed the towel back to him.

  “Lawrence Locklear,” he said, extending his hand. “Actually, it’s Lawrence Locklear the Third.”

  “Lucy,” I replied. “Lucy McKennit the First.” Shit, that sounded a lot cuter in my head.

  Lawrence laughed. “Well, Lucy McKennit the first, you certainly can run. Maybe we should go for one together sometime.”

  “One what?” I asked.

  “A run,” he looked at me like I was a little slow.

  “Sorry, of course.” I shook my head. I was a frickin’ biochemist, why couldn’t I follow a basic conversation? “I would love that.”

  And that was the start of our whirlwind romance. We had met for a run every day for two weeks and spent the entire time talking and pushing each other physically. I still couldn’t believe that someone like Lawrence would be into me. He could have any girl on campus, yet he was spending hours a day with me. I talked myself into thinking that he was just looking for a running partner. Yet, I started wearing makeup to practice - not a lot, just a little concealer and some waterproof mascara. And I started pulling out my padded sports bras, leaving the compression uni-boob creating bras at the back of my drawer.

  My friends were convinced that he was into me, but I wasn’t so sure. That all changed one day when we were running in the pouring rain. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, stopping us in our tracks.

  “Lucy, when are you going to kiss me?”

  “Excuse me?” I was shocked and excited. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the heart rate monitor on my wrist spiking.

  Then he grabbed me around my waist and pulled me in close. It was like a scene from a Nicholas Sparks movie, all the anticipation from the past few weeks had built to this moment. So, why had I been disappointed in the kiss? It was dull. His lips felt hard and strange against mine. I had been imagining this moment repeatedly, but in my imaginary scenarios, my stomach had been full of butterflies. With the actual kiss, there was, well, nothing.

  He pulled back and stared at me with his muddy brown eyes while the raindrops dripped off his ridiculously long eyelashes.

  “Will you be my girlfriend?”

  I couldn’t say no. He was such a catch, but why wasn’t my body responding to him?

  And just like I couldn’t say no to him that day in the rain six months ago, I couldn’t say no to him now. The same expectant eyes looked up at me from down on bended knee.

  “Yes,” I whispered to him.

  He smiled and stood up, and the restaurant erupted in cheers. He slid the giant ring onto my finger and kissed my hand.

  “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

  He pulled me in close and we kissed. I could feel the tears falling down my cheeks. They should’ve been tears of happiness. And maybe they were. After all, prince charming had just proposed to me. But, I couldn’t explain the growing feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

  Chapter 4 – Mick

  I love flying. It’s the only time that I truly feel free. The whine of the helicopter firing up literally makes me hard - every time. There’s something about the sound of the engine when I pull pitch, the blades rushing through the air that brings me happiness.

  I never get tired of flying, or of safety checks, or logging flight plans, stuff that would seem mundane to most people. As my chopper pilot friends and I like to call it, ‘kicking the tires and lighting the fires.’ I know that I will always love my helos, and never get tired of being inside of them.

  If only I could say the same thing about women.

  Some people have booze; some people drugs - everyone’s got a vice. I was never a big drinker, and I only smoke the occasional cigar here and there, if it will help close a business deal. My vice? Well, I’ve got two of ‘em. The first is probably pretty easy to see – adrenaline. It fuels me and makes me feel alive. The other: women. I used to eat them up, I say that literally and figuratively, and I could never get enough, but once I had a woman, I never wanted to see her again. Ever.

  Did I feel bad? Kinda. I know now that I should have felt like a terrible human being, but truthfully, I never used to care.

  It’s too easy for me, women throw themselves at my feet. I’ve been dubbed Seattle’s hottest bachelor, and I think that women like the fact that I’m 6’4” and ripped. It’s a perk for them, for sure, but the real reason they want me is that I’m rich - filthy, stinking, rich. It made me sad to realize that if I ever decided to settle down with a woman, I would never really know if she liked me for, you know, me.

  What the magazines don’t know about America’s hottest bachelor, is that I am through and through a sex addict. Not the Hollywood, cheating on their wives looking for an excuse kind of sex addict - a bonafide clinically diagnosed pussy addict.

  Living out here in the trees, the mountains, the fresh air, this is my rehab. Like the bears that are my neighbors, I’m hibernating here to avoid society and temptation. You know how people on diets will eat ice cream if it’s in the house? That’s how I am if there’s a woman around me. And if there’s two, I’ll enjoy both of them, probably at the same time. But, like a binge eater at the bottom of an empty ice cream container, the pleasure I get from fucking these women is only temporary.

  I had worried that the desire to fuck would intensify with solitude, but I had been out here for three months and it turns out that for me it is the opposite. I could literally feel the carnal desire slowly fading away. It scared me a little, but I knew that it was better for me if I could learn to control my cock. Every time I went back to society, I was a nervous wreck. Would I relapse? Would I be able to maintain my crackling campfire of desire, or would it flare into a bushfire?

  I radioed my head office and told them to prepare for my arrival and register my flight plan. I locked up the cabin and whistled for Chopper. I heard him yawn and crawl out from under my bed. I smiled at him, “Come on, you lazy lab,” I said. I clapped my hands and Chopper stretched and shook before trotting down the path after me to the helicopter.

  My head office was in Seattle. I had chosen my cabin’s location so that I could get to the office with plenty of fuel to spare. I touched down on the roof of my 30-story skyscraper and powered down the engine. Chopper and I hopped out and headed straight for my office.

  My assistant, Jeff, looked up from his screen. “Earlier than usual, sir.”

  I glanced down at my watch, 10:23, the tailwinds had been in my favor.

  Jeff got up from his desk and walked me into my office. “I put the files on your desk, and your messages are here, organized in order of urgency,” he said, handing me a stack of papers.

  It had taken me a while to learn that I couldn’t have a woman as an assistant. I would just fuck her. It happened more than I’d like to admit. To keep it simple, I fucked every single one of them before I found Jeff. He was organized, patient, great at his job, and best of all, I had no desire to bend him over my glass desk and shove up his skirt, exposing too-sexy-for-work lace panties. FOR FUCK’S SAKE. I can’t even be back in the world for ten minutes without thin
king of sex, without turning my male assistant into a sexy skirt wearing woman.

  “Have the executives from Torver arrived yet?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. They’re all set up in the boardroom with coffee and croissants.”

  “Perfect. Thanks, Jeff. Let them know that I’ll be in to meet with them at eleven.”

  “Will do, sir. Your suit is hanging on the back of the door,” Jeff said as he left.

  I grabbed the suit and headed to my office ensuite. The bathroom was tiled in Carrera marble, the starkest most beautiful white tiles I could source. There was a custom glassed-in shower that sprayed water from every direction except up – which only made sense, as that seemed like a recipe for an enema. My favorite add-on was the eucalyptus steam system, but I didn’t have time for that today. I stepped into the warm white starkness and had a quick rinse, washing the woodsmoke, mountain air, and aviation fuel smells off my body.

  I buttoned up my crisp shirt and smoothed it over my abs. I no longer went to the gym but living in the woods had made me stronger and leaner than I had ever been in my life. I looked at my plaid flannel shirt, wool hat, and Carhartt pants, hanging on the back of the door; my woodsman persona hung there, now replaced by an Armani suit. I looked like a different person, except for one thing…

  Every time I come back to the office I contemplate shaving off my beard, but I have come to find comfort in it. Simply touching it reminds me that I am more than a just a CEO. It sounds crazy, but the beard helps to keep me grounded, to remind me of why I went off the grid. Was I afraid that shaving it off would cause an instant relapse? That’s ridiculous, but a little superstition never hurt anyone, did it?

  I grabbed the files from my desk and strode to the conference room. The Torver Group was a multinational company I was interviewing to handle the takeover of a few mid-size companies. They had recently stunned the business world with their takeover of the Wordsworth Corporation and I wanted them on my side.

  Johnathan, the CEO, stood up to meet me. We had met a few times over the years, and he seemed like a ‘stand-up’ kind of guy. I always feel a certain kinship with a fellow-rags-to -riches businessman - someone who came from nothing, like me.

  I took my place at the head of the table and glanced down at the other members of his board.

  Shit. Fuck. Dammit.

  Unlike my team, which was solely comprised of men, he had three women on his. I know that I look sexist because I refuse to hire very capable businesswomen, but I just can’t have that kind of temptation around me every day. It would be like an alcoholic working as a bartender, having to stare at all those beautiful curvy bottles day in and day out.

  But Johnathan’s team, wow. There was a sexy blonde seated beside him, an all-American brunette beside her, and a gorgeous black woman at the end. I recognized the blonde as Samantha Doyle, the CEO of Wordsworth and was surprised that he’d kept her on as part of his team.

  This was going to be harder than I thought.

  Chapter 5 – Lucy

  I tossed an extra pair of wool socks into my suitcase. Growing up I had been a girl scout, so ‘be prepared’ had been ingrained in me at an early age.

  I heard a rapid-fire knock on my dorm room door and I knew that it was Tania. Ever since I got engaged to Lawrence she had become my new best friend. I couldn’t go a day without a text from her asking me to hang out. I didn’t want to be rude, and since it was rare that someone as popular as Tania would want to hang out with me, I tried. I really did.

  When I complained to Lawrence about Tania boring me to tears, Lawrence called me a snob. Me?! If anyone was a snob, it was him and Hunter. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was right. I did look down on Tania because she was, how do I put this nicely: basic. So, when Tania asked me to go away for a weekend bachelorette party, I agreed. I wanted to prove to Lawrence, and to myself, that I wasn’t an academic snob, that I would never look down on someone because of their level of intelligence.

  “Hi, Tania,” I said as she burst into my room in a flurry of energy.

  “Are you ready to go?” she asked, smiling at me.

  “Just about, I’m trying to decide if I should bring another pair of socks.” I gestured to the pile of socks on my bed.

  “Socks? Are you serious?” Tania grabbed the socks from my hand and threw them into my suitcase. “We’re going for three days. Take three pairs of socks - and six bikinis,” she smiled.

  I laughed and started to zip up my suitcase.

  “How many do you have?” she asked.

  “How many what?” I was confused.

  “Umm. Bikinis,” Tania said, looking at me like I was an idiot.

  That’s when I realized that she was serious about the bikini comment - I had one packed. We were going away for a three-day spa retreat in the mountains, how could we possibly need six? “I guess it couldn’t hurt to pack one more,” I said, trying to appease her.

  “Just one?”

  “That’s all I own, Tania. Two bathing suits.”

  “Well, that will change when you and Lawrence start spending the summer at his house in the Hamptons,” Tania said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “My girl, you’ve got so much to learn.”

  I zipped up my suitcase and followed Tania out to her Jeep Cherokee. I hopped in the back and was introduced to the two other girls, Avery and Montana.

  “Like the state?” I asked when I heard the brunette’s name.

  “You got it!” She smiled and laughed. “When I was born, my parents were spending a lot of time at their Bear Tooth home. “I know it kinda sounds like I should be spending my spare time on a stripper pole, but nobody else in the class of 2022 has the same name as me.”

  I smiled to myself. Montana and I might just get along. Avery was easily the prettiest girl that I had ever seen in my life. Her hair was white blonde and hung down her back like a silk curtain. All three of them wore Canada Goose jackets and cute pastel colored hats with furry pompoms. I felt a little out of place wearing the faded red ski coat I’d had since high school.

  Montana was a business major and was slated to take over her dad’s publishing company. She was smart, savvy, and out of the three, the only one that I really connected with. Her dad was making her get her MBA, and he was making her climb the ladder of the corporation – something that I respected. Avery and Tania expected to meet their husbands at college and achieve a Bachelor of Wife degree.

  “So…” Tania cooed, looking in the rear-view mirror at me. “We’re all dying to know. We’ve heard rumors about Lawrence and have to know if they’re true.”

  “Rumors?” I replied.

  “About the size of his, you know… package,” Tania giggled.

  My face flushed red. Lawrence and I had made out heavily, and I had certainly felt Lawrence’s penis through his silk briefs, but I had never actually seen it.

  “Oh, it’s everything you’ve heard,” I lied. “And what exactly is it that you’ve heard?”

  Tania laughed. “That he’s a solid ten inches.”

  I had no idea, but that measurement certainly seemed like a stretch.

  “And does he know how to use it?” Avery asked.

  I had to spill the beans. I didn’t feel comfortable with the conversation, but I also didn’t feel comfortable lying.

  “We haven’t done it yet,” I said, picking at my nails.

  The car went silent. All I could hear was the sound of the tires crunching over the snow.

  “Like, not even just the tip?” Tania asked.

  “Tania! Leave her alone,” Montana said, and she reached over and squeezed my forearm.

  “So that explains everything,” Tania murmured to Avery.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She means nothing,” Montana snapped.

  What did Tania mean?

  “Why don’t you just focus on the road Tan,” Montana said.

  The girls chit-chatted about lip gloss and spa treatments for
the next two hours straight. The snow was falling steadily, and we still had an hour left on our trip. The sun was getting low in the sky and I guessed we only had an hour or two before complete darkness set in. The fat snowflakes continued falling heavily and rapidly, mesmerizing us as they danced in the headlights of the car.

  I gripped the door when I felt the car make an almost imperceptible shift to the side of the road. Black ice.

  “Did you feel that?” I asked, looking nervously over Tania’s shoulder at the speedometer. Even with the deteriorating road conditions, she hadn’t slowed down, continuing to cruise along at 70 mph.

  “Feel what?” Tania asked.

  “I felt it too,” Montana said. “Slow down Tan. The roads are getting slippery.”

  “I’ll put it in four-wheel drive. It will be fine,” Tania said, punching at the control on the dashboard.

  “Four-wheel drive doesn’t make the brakes work any better,” I said nervously.

  “Yeah, it will only put us further in the ditch if we don’t. Slow. Down,” Montana said.

  “You two are worry warts. I’ve driven this road a million tim--,” Tania was interrupted as the Jeep started to slide sideways into the headlights of an oncoming car. She panicked and slammed on the brakes, sending the SUV into a spin.

  I grabbed onto the bar on the back of the passenger seat with all my might and braced myself for the impact of the oncoming car.

  Avery screamed, and my world went into slow motion as the SUV continued to spin, narrowly missing the lights of the oncoming car. I heard the car horn wail out into the night and all of a sudden, the coffee cups were suspended in the air as the Jeep caught the edge of the road and started to roll. The suitcases jostled around, hitting the roof with each roll of the car – I counted four times. It was both quiet and deafeningly loud at the same time; screaming, blaring horns, crunching of metal, dull thuds, and cracking as the windows smashed, shards of tempered glass raining down on us like diamonds.