Description
"My cabin. My rules." Years of celibacy was my way of life.
Now Angela's presence makes things exceptionally....hard
She was supposed to be my hostage.
But Santa must have a sick sense of humor.
I'm addicted to every inch of her…
Her full breasts.
Her Curvy hips.
That sweet scent.
I'm afraid nothing will stop me from having all of her.
The problem is I don't ask. I take.
And there isn't a single inch of her I won't devour.
Readers note: Do you enjoy mysterious men of a few words, with a sexy baritone voice and a hot exotic accent? This is your lucky day. This is a lumberjack, BRATVA, Mountain Man, Holiday Romantic Suspense and the first book standalone in the Grizzly Falls Lumberjacks series.
Viktor
Thunder rocked the sky.
Mud slides and avalanches were common this time of year.
The rain had really done a number on the mountainside. The ground was loose and slippery, and I had to watch my step when I stepped back outside with a coffee mug in my hand.
But being dainty in my step wasn’t easy for a big guy like myself.
I liked nature when it was like this, though.
Dangerous, difficult, and impossible - except for a stubborn motherfucker like myself.
Lost souls that wandered this far would back the fuck off, abandon their quests.
No one ventured out this far, even less so when the ground itself was unstable as fuck.
And that suited me just fine.
I looked around. The world was breathtakingly beautiful in the aftermath of Mother Nature’s work.
Even with all the thunder, nature continued unscathed and unbothered.
The leaves glistened in the late morning sun, birds chirped a welcome to the world, ruffling their feathers and enjoying the rays that sliced through the crisp air.
Nature continuing its pursuit regardless of all the chaos.
If it wasn’t a damn metaphor for my life, I didn’t know what was.
In the distance, I heard rumbling a third time, a thick sound, like a giant clearing his throat. The ground beneath my feet trembled, and I heard branches cracking. Scratch that, whole fucking trunks cracking.
As I watched, the forest a few feet ahead of me started shifting.
At that moment, I knew this was no average mudslide.
It didn't reach all the way up to where I was standing. And that was just a happy fucking coincidence.
The rumbling and groaning of the earth redecorating itself was overpowering. I watched as the giant hand of nature clenched a fist, crushing whatever was in its wake.
Any humans would be pulverized. This part of the mountainside was mine, as I’d come to see it, and it was deserted, so I didn’t have to worry about any deaths and the crowds of investigators and rescuers that might bring.
I let my eyes slide over the part of the mountain that had yet to be transformed. Natural disasters were a kick. Everyone hated them –they were right to. They weren’t called disasters for nothing.
But I liked that there was something bigger and more powerful than me. It was rare.
I liked being reminded that no matter how awful things got, the world still kept turning. And that no matter what a disgusting son of a bitch I’d been once upon a time, in the grand scheme of things, life went on as if I didn’t matter.
The balance, the perspective, kept me sane.
I wanted to see what disasters had fallen near my cabin.
As I meandered through the trees, some upright, some hanging by roots, I cast my eyes in all directions. My eyes landed on a green truck, a little beat up, the paint worn. Sometimes I came across old cars abandoned by their owners decades ago. But this one was new and had no business being in the middle of a mudslide. And it sure as shit wouldn’t be there much longer.
As I gazed at the truck curiously, I heard something I’d least expected. Someone else was here - and they were in trouble. A yelping sound came from the distance.
And then I saw her.
F*ck what the hell is she doing here?
Her auburn hair streamed behind with abandon as she ran with all her might. Whoever this woman was, I could tell she had fight in her, but there was no fucking way she was getting out of the path of destruction in time.
I dropped my axe and ran in her direction. A demented smirk overtook me as I was reminded of my true nature. I always run toward danger and not from it.
The ground started sliding beneath my feet. I worked hard to keep my footing. At 6’6” and mostly muscle, I didn’t go down easily, but the area was dangerous and getting more so by the second. Logs fell across my path, rocks tumbled down. I ducked to avoid a thick branch hitting me over the head.
For a moment, I lost sight of her. I followed the sound of her shouts, something primal in me forcing through the danger to get to her. The strange woman needed help, and I was the only person for miles. I’d grill her later about why the hell she was out here in the first place.
When I reached her, I was just in time to yank her out from underneath a falling tree that crashed to the ground. She spun around when I grabbed her, green eyes bewildered. She was a looker, that I was certain. And her reaction to me was defensive, though not afraid.
“Whoa! Who the hell are you?”
“We’re getting out of here, now!” I shouted.
She shouted something in return, but a loud crashing drowned out her voice. A branch crashed down, followed by mud and dirt. I tried to get away, but the ground gave underneath my feet, and we were stuck. I tucked her against me and turned my back. The branch landed on me with a noise like a train wreck. I gritted my teeth as a searing pain throbbed into my shoulder. But the woman was safe. I squeezed my eyes shut as more debris fell around us. A few small rocks, dirt, and some branches and leaves fell on me, but the worst was over.
When it was safe and the forest was silent again – mourning in the aftermath of the terror it had spread – I opened my arms and looked down. The green-eyed beauty was unconscious.
Shit.
With a sigh, I picked her up, her body limp in my arms. She was tiny, 5’4” at the most, and light as a feather. Lifting her took no effort at all, and I turned, trudging up the hillside like fucking Tarzan taking Jane back to safety.
As soon as I was on solid ground, I laid her down on the mulch and studied her, checking for injuries that might be life-threatening. God, she was beautiful. An angel.
She had a bruise on the forehead, matted blood in her hair, but neither injury looked too serious. Her skin was smooth with a tiny splash of freckles across her nose. Perfect full lips, delicate neckline, everything perfect. My eyes slid down her body and found curves enough to make a man’s mouth water. She was in fucking good shape, too.
Her clothes were torn, and through the rips her soft, smooth skin showed. A long tear up her leg showed the pale skin of her thigh through her jeans, and I swallowed. My cock was suddenly at full attention, straining against my pants.
Nyet, I told myself. I could not want her. Not like this. She was unconscious, helpless, possibly injured, even if not serious. Frowning, I stared at her. Who the hell is she? And how did she end up in these parts of the woods where hardly any soul trespassed?