On the Mountain Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
<<<<715161718192737>90
Advertisement


“I’m new to Tranquility…you probably know that too. I was raised by my mom. Her name was Cypress. Isn’t that a gorgeous name? She was great. The best person I’ve ever known.”

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

“She was also an addict. Losing her killed me. You would think that would stop me from turning to drugs myself, but it didn’t. I just…couldn’t function in a world without her. It didn’t help that my ex-boyfriend—”

A growl escaped my lips despite how hard I tried to hold it down. I knew what he was doing—he was trying to make me feel a connection to him so I didn’t kill him, but what the little lamb didn’t know was that I had no plans to hurt him.

“Great. You’re a homophobe? Leave it to me to get kidnapped by a homophobic mountain man who doesn’t speak. I feel like Little Red Riding Hood. What was I thinking, trying to bring you food? That was you stalking me the whole time, wasn’t it?”

Tell him. Tell him you’re not homophobic and you’re not going to kill him.

But the truth was, I would if I had to.

I hefted him higher in my arms, which were beginning to burn.

“I’m not really scared. That’s not normal. I don’t know if I believe you want to kill me or not, but either way, I’m not really afraid. I only said all that because that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

He wasn’t afraid to die? I wasn’t either, but then, I’d always known I wasn’t like most people. And maybe, the first time I’d laid eyes on him, I’d known he wasn’t either.

His body relaxed in my arms. Cyrus didn’t speak anymore, and I saw him look at my cabin getting closer and closer. He sucked in a sharp breath, his hand fisting in my shirt.

I didn’t know what I was doing, why I’d brought him to my home. No one else had ever been inside it, not since I’d torn it down and rebuilt it. The walls had only known me, and now I’d brought this man here. I was angry at myself for it, confused at why I’d done it.

He brought you food.

I eased him down onto the porch, the little lamb standing on one foot as I unlocked the door. When it was open, he tried to take a step forward, but I held his arm and shook my head.

Everything inside me rebelled against this, my discomfort growing, making my gut ache. This was more difficult than I thought it would be. He was an outsider. They hadn’t been allowed on our grounds when we were Enlightened, and that was one thing I’d held on to since.

“Do you want me to wait here?” he asked, speaking to me in a normal tone of voice—not yelling as if he thought that because I chose not to speak, I couldn’t hear—and he also didn’t talk in that condescending way that said he thought I was stupid.

Instead of using words, I lifted him again and brought him inside. Cyrus huffed as I dropped him onto the couch. I watched him as he looked around—at the empty fireplace, the log walls, couches and chairs, the open-concept kitchen behind us with a bar that only had one stool and a small table with only one chair. One was all I would ever need, and having more or less didn’t take away from or add anything to the space. I kept more furniture in the living room and bedrooms simply because the empty space made the house echo uncomfortably.

“This cabin isn’t very scary-mountain-man of you,” he said, speaking to me in a way no one ever had before. I waited for him to ramble something about it being lonely, but what he landed on was, “It’s perfect,” with a soft wistfulness I’d never heard aimed at something about me or that was mine.

He stood up, but I grabbed his arms and forced him to sit down again, narrowing my eyes at him. I couldn’t handle the thought of him having free rein around my space.

“Don’t leave the couch. Got it.” Cyrus crossed his arms.

I went to the kitchen, watching him the whole time. I set my rifle on the counter and started unloading the bags. He’d had ice packs in there, but they had long since melted. Still, I put the food away quickly, then got a frozen pack from my freezer and a first-aid kit. I kept supplies for injuries because I’d gotten plenty over the years. I never knew when I would need them.

I sat on the handmade coffee table in front of him, grabbed his foot, and lifted it to my lap.

“Oh,” Cyrus said softly. The sound went straight to my neglected cock.

I took his shoe off, then his sock. His foot was already bruised and purple, his ankle swollen.



<<<<715161718192737>90

Advertisement