Her Savage Mountain Daddy

Not ideal, but we made it work. I mean, you make things work when you’re in love, and crazy about each other, and engaged.

It wasn’t just weekends, either. Sometimes I stacked my labs and took an extra day or two to do my reading assignments in a hammock by the lake with Cormac’s arms around me instead of my boring lonely dorm room. Other times, he came down, where it was apparently quite the juicy scandal that I had this super-hot, muscly, way older guy who stayed over in my solo dorm room for days on end. Even more of a scandal when those visits ended up keeping half the dorm up.

Oh well.

As for everything else? The rest of the drama that threw us together? Well, sometimes, the good guys actually win. In our case, the evidence on that thumb drive, and my eyewitness account of what I’d seen that night in the alley made the whole case against Sylvan, his guys, and Deputy Chief Urlech a done deal. They’re all pulling life sentences right now on some serious charges, especially when it came to light how Urlech was using his authority to literally act like a hitman for Sylvan and his mob buddies.

Cormac was fully pardoned, obviously, and in fact, the FBI all but begged him to come in as a full-time director.

He declined.

He opted to keep doing his contracting work with them, but only the easy gigs. No more heroics, thank you very much.

And me? Well, in two years, we can drop the commuting relationship. I don’t know what I’m doing after graduation, except for one thing: moving to the freaking paradise we’ve found here on the shore of Blackthorn Lake, with the love of my life. After that, everything else is just little stuff.

“Hey, don’t forget about the houseguest I’m bringing with me in a few weeks, by the way.”

Cormac groaned—no, it was more of a dangerous growl, which I understood, given who are guest was.

Since the whole thing had gone down with Sylvan, and the trial and all of that, my old roommate Carrie had reached out. First, it’d been to apologize for putting me in danger for bringing me to that club, and for being kind of a terrible roommate. But then, we’d started talking more and more, and as it turns out, we actually had a lot in common. We just didn’t mesh well living together. Carrie was a lot less of a wild girl than she’d tried to portray herself as when we’d been roommates, and we’d actually started to become pretty good friends.

Yeah, Cormac wasn’t exactly big on the idea, but he was slowly coming around.

“She knows there’s no jello shots and wet t-shirt contests up here, right?”

…”Slowly” was the key word there.

“Hey, you promised to be nice. And she’s a friend, you big meanie.” I reached down to poke his side, and Cormac chuckled a rumbly laugh as his muscles flexed.

“I trust you, babygirl. And if you vouch for her, I’m done giving you flack about it.”

I smiled smugly to myself. “Why thank you.”

“Wire cutters?”

I grinned as I plucked the tool from the deck and pressed it into Cormac’s big outstretched hand. He was almost done with the wiring project, and when he slid out from under that deck?

…Oh, was he in for a surprise. A very, very fun surprise.

He grunted once more, his arm clenching as he did something under there.

“Done,” he groaned, body sagging as he dropped his arms.

“Yay!”

He chuckled, tossing the wire cutters down and pushing himself out from under the deck.

“Alright, babygirl, I’m all you—”

He froze, and when I watched where his eyes landed, and saw the fierce heat and storm clouds in that gaze, I panted, shivering in anticipation.

Because from Cormac’s angle, he was looking right up the tiny little skirt I’d arrived in. Since he’d been under the deck though, I’d taken the liberty of altering one tiny piece of my wardrobe.

…I’d lost my panties.

“Princess,” he growled lowly. Fucking hell, that voice, and that tone, and the way he called me princess. Wet, instantly. Like I was every time with him.

“Yes?” I cooed softly, batting my eyes innocently at him.

“Did you forget something.”

I blushed, biting my lip. “I—I don’t know, mister. Do you think I did?”

“Babygirl,” Cormac growled, half sitting up, his big hand sliding to my ankles. I whimpered, shivering in heat.

“Only bad girls don’t wear panties,” he groaned, his eyes flashing. My gaze dropped to his lap, and my breath trembled as I locked onto the huge, obscene bulge in his jeans.

“Only naughty, dirty girls don’t wear panties, trying to tempt older men like that.”

I panted, chewing on my lip as I eyed him right back, just as hungry.

“Do—do I need to be taught a lesson?”

Cormac growled lowly.

“Do I need to be punished?” My voice went soft as a feather, my nipples puckering to hard points under my tank top. God I was so wet, I’m amazed he couldn’t see it running down my legs.