Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) Read Free Page B

the
trails narrow, winding and filled with boulders. It was everything I
loved about this town rolled into a wicked good time. Cranky,
independent, and barely breaking even year after year, Mad Mountain
was how I’d discovered tiny Watson, Vermont back when I was still
in college. I’d made the town my home for four years now, and I
planned on keeping on doing the same. As long as nothing rocked the
boat.
    And usually nothing
did. We were off the grid in Watson. Every now and then the town
brewery came up with a new ale. The local youth hockey team had some
winning seasons, some losing. Each year brought a couple of bad
storms, rain swelling the river over its banks or snow caving in a
roof. But mostly it was a whole lot of nothing happening, day after
day. Just how I liked it.
    But now what would a
city party girl like the one trying to order an appletini be doing in
a town like this? Seemed like oil and water to me. She was exactly
the type I steered clear of. The type of woman I’d seen far too
much of growing up. The type you never could trust.
    Which was why it made
abso-fucking-lutely no sense that from the second she unzipped that
giant parka I was hard as a fucking rock. Giant, massive wood
pressing into the seam of my jeans. It had to be like a chemical
malfunction. When you went too long, your system went haywire. You
started having fierce, raging, raw attraction to exactly the wrong
type of woman.
    Each time this pink and
blonde piece of cotton candy stole a glance at me—and she was
stealing some glances—my cock surged in response. Yes! This one,
take this one! Drag her off and bury yourself in her! You know she’d
love it. Look at the way she’s looking at you, her lips parted, her
eyes slightly glazed. She likes what she sees. Seize the day!
    But that’s why you
needed to think with your big head, not your little head. The little
head made bad decisions. My father had torn up our whole family
thinking with his dick. I was as red-blooded and hard bodied as a man
got, 25 and ready to go at the drop of a fucking hat, but I sure as
hell wasn’t going to be an asshole about it. I’d seen too many
people make too many messes that way.
    Me, I kept it simple. I
worked, making custom furniture and art out of wood and metal. I
slept and ate and stayed fit. No drama, no bullshit, no headaches.
    But, aw hell, now a
couple of yahoos flanked her, right and left. I hadn’t planned on
going over and talking to her. I’d planned on sitting there while
my bartender buddy Dave made sure she was OK. He was a good guy. I
could cover for him while he gave her a ride wherever she needed to
go.
    Because she sure as
hell wasn’t driving anywhere else tonight in that toy car of hers.
It looked like a clown car, parked up on the sidewalk in front of the
bar. How the hell had she made it even a mile in such an asinine
ride? She could have missed a curve so easy, skidding out on black
ice into the Mad River that wound its way like a snake alongside the
state road.
    That’s what did me
in. She really did need help. Yahoo number two said something to her,
and I saw a flash of vulnerability in her eyes. The ice queen with
her perfect nails, salon-ready hair and pretty little white silk top
was trying to look like she had her shit together. But she didn’t.
She was scared. And she had reason to be. That car in a storm like
this was a death trap. And I didn’t know those guys. They weren’t
from around here. It was time for them to leave.
    I stood up and they
didn’t put up a fight. Being as big as me had its advantages. It
had its disadvantages, too. You looked like a giant bear in a tux,
and some girls said you were just too much. But that didn’t happen
often out in the middle of nowhere. Not that many black tie affairs
and society girls out in Watson, Vermont.
    I sat down next to her,
trying to make up my mind. I already could tell this girl would drive
me crazy. She looked high-maintenance. Materialistic.
    But how was it