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Her Savage Mountain Daddy

Page 32

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“This case is dismissed. Mr. Alderman, the U.S. Government and the FBI owe you a debt.” I turned to the judge, who nodded formally at me as the bailiff undid my cuffs.

“You’re free to go.”

The words were barely hitting me when I was lunging over the banister and rushing across the room. I caught Nina in my arms, whirling her around as she shrieked in joy and threw her arms around me. Our lips crushed together, and I kissed her with everything I had. Cameras snapped, reporters jostled for a quote, but none of that mattered.

None of it even registered to either of us. Because we had each other, and that’s all that mattered.

“Can we get out of here?” She whispered in my ear.

“Absolutely,” I growled, kissing her. “Though, you should know, I’m the recent defendant in a felony kidnapping case.”

Nina giggled, kissing me right back.

“Can you kidnap the willing?”

“Shall we find out?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered as I pulled her close.

“I know a cabin where we can get away for a while.”

“How about a long while.”

“Well that all depends,” I purred into her ear.

“On?”

“On if you think you can be a good girl when we get there.”

Nina gasped quietly, her hands tightening on me as she pulled close. Her lips brushed my ear, and the words made my cock throb against her.

“I think I can,” she whispered. “I think I can be a very good girl, daddy.”

Epilogue

Nina

“Pass me that Phillips head screwdriver, babygirl?”

I grinned mischievously as I stood above him, eyeing Cormac’s body.

…Good Lord could I get lost in those muscles.

He grunted his head still buried under the porch of the cabin, where he was in the middle of wiring up some new outdoor lighting. Which meant, he hadn’t noticed yet.

Yet.

“Nina?”

“Right here.” I tore myself away from the filthy fantasies I was having about my man as I pressed the screwdriver into his hand. Cormac grunted again, his bicep clenching mouthwateringly and the abs of his bare torso clenching in a way that had my thighs doing the same thing.

“I swear, I’m almost done,” he chuckled, like he could read my mind. “Thought I’d be done before you got here but that fucking fuse blew again.”

He growled, his head still buried under the porch.

“Just want to get it done before dinner tonight.”

I had to grin. My rough, wild, growly man had turned into quite the host up here on Blackthorn. He was also determined to beat that rap of him being a crappy chef, and to prove it, he was whipping up something special tonight for us, along with Ryker and Addison, and Stone and Jackie.

Stone and Jackie were also really close to opening up their bar and restaurant, The Pines, which was going to be Blackthorn’s first real sit-down eatery. So, there was some celebrating to do tonight. That and Jackie had texted me earlier that she had some especially juicy gossip for me. Jackie’s sister, Kennedy, also lived on Blackthorn, and apparently, there was something scandalous going on with her old roommate, Lucy. Something that involved some law enforcement guy, or the FBI or something.

There was also all the gossip going around Blackthorn about the super hot, super gruff and masculine chef that Stone and Jackie had hired to run the kitchen at The Pines.

…Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to hear about all of this.

“That’s fine,” I sighed dramatically to Cormac. “I mean your poor, poor fiancée just whiles her days away all week dreaming of being up here. But I know the porch lights are important.”

I grinned wickedly as I heard Cormac groan. I was totally kidding, and totally kidding him. He started to slide out from his position, but I giggled, leaning down to stop him with a hand on his bare chest. I bent lower and kissed his exposed chin—his nose and eyes still under the deck.

“I’m kidding, baby. The lights are going to look awesome.”

Okay, I was only half kidding. Because the truth was, I did moan and groan most of the days of the week waiting to see him again, like I did every week.

Yeah, that was the agreement, as much as I hated it. Cormac was mine, and I was his, but he’d insisted I stay enrolled at Cartwright College and graduate. I mean, it was an amazing school. And as heavenly as Blackthorn was, and as much as I’d come to absolutely love it here, it was kinda lacking in the “spectacular colleges with amazing science programs” department.

And so, Monday through Friday, for the next two years, I lived on campus and got my shit done. But on Fridays, at 12:30 in the afternoon—or really, at 12:29—I was in my car, engine roaring as I floored it the two and a half hours to Blackthorn Mountain. And if I wasn’t doing that, I was skipping out the door to Cormac’s waiting car to do the same.



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