To Claim the Mountain Man

Chapter 23

ISLA

Heath laced his fingers through mine as we walked into my house, Smokey trailing behind.

A week ago, I never would've imagined this moment in my wildest dreams. That my brother's best friend would be leading me to my bedroom, with the taste of him still on my tongue and the sound of his pleasure still ringing between my ears. It all happened so fast, but it didn't scare me.

With Heath, I felt safe. Cared for. Wanted. Even if it was only temporary.

By the sound of it, Smokey settled somewhere in the hallway, his claws clicking against my hardwood floors. Heath and I kept walking to the bedroom, where I let him guide me to the bed. He sat me down on the edge of the mattress and, to my surprise, bent onto one knee to begin unstrapping my sandals.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he slipped the first sandal off, then started working on the buckle for the other.

He peered up at me, warmth dancing like a single flame in his slate gaze. "I'm taking care of you."

I laughed and shook my head. "Believe it or not, I can do that myself."

"I know." That signature, crooked grin curled on his lips. He slid my other shoe off. "But I want to do it."

"Because I gave you a blow job?"

He chuckled but shook his head, and his big hands began massaging my calves. "Because the thought of you was the only thing that got me through the last few days."

My heart skipped a beat. I searched his face and saw only earnestness staring back at me. He meant it.

"And you gave me a blow job," he added with a cheeky smirk.

I tipped my head back and laughed again, gently kicking his brawny shoulder with my toes. Thank goodness I'd painted my toenails prior to my date with Alex. Heath kept massaging my calves, though his hands drifted higher and higher.

A comfortable silence settled over the room, and I could've spent an eternity studying the man on his knees before me. None of my lights were on, but the moonlight cast a luminescent glow across my bedroom floor, pooling on Heath.

A fine dusting of hair covered his forearms, his tan skin sliding over chords of muscle as he kneaded my calves. His beard, typically so neatly maintained, had grown out, adding to his rugged exterior. And his eyes—gosh, his eyes—belonged in a bedroom. They came alive in the shadows, filled with promises of sin and devotion.

I wondered how much he hid behind those bedroom eyes and a charming smile. My curiosity got the better of me.

I pressed my lips into a thin line, hyper-aware of his fingers slipping up my thigh and beneath the hem of my dress. "Where have you been, Heath? You sort of disappeared..."

His fingertips paused, hovering a few inches above my knees. He wet his lips, his eyes falling from mine for the first time since we entered the bedroom. "I, uh... My mom needed me for a few days."

"Oh," I stated, blinking.

His mom.

God, I felt like such an idiot. I'd spent the last four days assuming that Heath had run off to be with another woman, but not his mother.I knew it was none of my business, but I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Is everything okay?"

He stared up at me, a muscle in his jaw working, as if he was deciding how much to tell me. Finally, he released a deep breath, and his shoulders fell with it. "Things haven't been okay for a long time for her. But yes. Right now, she's safe."