Baby For The Mountain Man

She was immobile. Fast asleep next to me with her long, beautiful brown hair in her face. I kissed the nape of her neck before I slid from her body, resigning myself to breakfast. I pulled on a pair of flannel pants and pulled my hair back, then set off for the kitchen.

I stood at the stove, scrambling eggs and cooking bacon. I pulled everything off the stove and starting making a fresh pot of coffee. I heard small footsteps padding down the hallway and I turned, watching as Ava emerged.

In nothing but my shirt from last night.

“Morning,” she said sleepily. “What smells so good?”

Her eyes fluttered up to mine as my cock grew against my pants. I turned myself around, resigning myself to the reality I saw running behind her eyes. I was a new experience. A risky decision. I was a getaway from the life she lived. Possibly a stop on her way to something greater. And I was okay with that. That was enough for me, having her here for a night or two. Even if I could only help her getaway. Even if all I could do was spark the slightest bit of hope and give her the slightest bit of control, that was enough for me.

Because that was all I could handle after everything I had been through.

“Eggs, bacon, and coffee. Want some toast?” I asked.

“Oh, no. That’s fine. I was just wondering. It smells really good,” Ava said.

“Sleep well?” I asked.

“I can hear your grin,” she said.

“As long as you slept well, that’s all that matters.”

“I did, thank you.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

When she fell silent, I turned around to find her. She was standing against the kitchen counter, her eyes locked onto my body. They were dancing around my chest, taking in my muscles as I rolled my shoulders back. Her tongue darted out, drawing her bottom lip in as she bit down on it.

I grinned at the sight before I turned and grabbed us some mugs.

“You a coffee drinker?” I asked.

“I am when no one’s looking,” Ava said.

“How do you take it?”

“You don’t remember from the coffee shop?”

“Is that one of my requirements?” I asked.

“Nope, I’m just picking with you. Cream and sugar, not too much of either,” she said.

“Sit down. I’ll get you a plate.”

“Do you need any help with anything?”

I turned around and saw her eyes dancing around my kitchen.

“Ava, look at me.”

Her eyes found mine once again and her blatant innocence shook my knees. She was beautiful. Untouched until she came bounding up on my doorstep last night. I knew I needed to ask why she was here. I knew I needed to figure out what the hell was going on with her. But something inside of me told me to bite my tongue on the matter.

“You are not obligated to do anything here you don’t want to do. If you want to help, help. If you want to sit and stare off, then sit and stare off,” I said.

Her face crinkled up in confusion. Like I was throwing her some sort of foreign concept.

And it killed me that I was. To her, doing what she wanted was just as foreign to her as the Tagalog language was to me. Making her own decisions was just as alien of an idea to her as sex. She understood what it entailed. She understood that other people could do it. But when it came to her, she had no idea how the concept personally operated.

“I’ll… sit down then,” she said.