Chapter 1

one

. . .

Olivia

The sun blazes down on me as I make my way up the mountain trail, beads of sweat forming on my brow. My legs ache from the strain, but I push forward, determined not to let my curvy body hold me back.

It was my best friend's idea for me to take this solo hiking trip, insisting it would help me escape the stress of my city job. And she was right—for the most part. The further I get from civilization, the more alive I feel.

Painstakingly, achingly alive as every muscle in my body screams.

But hey, it's alive, right?

"Who knew nature could be so...invigorating?" I mutter to myself, panting slightly as I maneuver over a large rock.

My thoughts drift to the long hours spent hunched over my desk, the constant demands of my boss, and the endless noise of the city. Out here, all of that fades away, replaced by the sounds of birdsong, rustling leaves, and my own labored breathing.

But, unfortunately, I'm a city girl, and I suck with directions. As the hours pass, I realize I've ventured too far. The path becomes unfamiliar, and a creeping sense of dread begins to overwhelm me.

"Damn it," I curse under my breath, trying to retrace my steps. "I knew I should've stuck to the marked trails."

The anxiety builds inside me, knotting my stomach and quickening my pulse.

I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched, an unseen presence lurking just out of sight.

"Hello?" I call out hesitantly, knowing full well no one is around to hear me. "Is anyone there?"

As if in response, the ground beneath my feet gives way. I let out a scream as I tumble down the hillside. Pain slices through me as my body is battered by rocks and branches.

My world spins and blurs, the pain intensifying with each jarring impact.

"Help," I whisper, choking on fear and desperation. I don't who the fuck I think I'm talking to. There's no one out here in this god-forsaken place.

And then everything goes black.

Jack

I go still as I hear the rustling.

Something is there.

I know these mountains like the back of my hand, and I also know how important it is to check out any suspicious activity. If you don't, you might just end up with a bear at your doorstep.

So, I make my way through the dense foliage to the source of the noise, and I am not prepared for what I find.

A scene that both shocks and intrigues me.

A curvy, beautiful woman lies unconscious at the bottom of a hill, her body bruised and battered.

"Sweet Jesus," I whisper, as I rush over to see about her.

My gaze lingers on her ample breasts, straining against her tight shirt, and my hands itch to reach out and touch them.

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. Fuck, I really have been out here all alone for too many years, haven't I? I need to be making sure she's alive—not ogling her beautiful body while she lays here unconscious.

"Hey, can you hear me?" I ask, gently shaking her shoulder.

No response.

A quick look around, and it's obvious she's alone. But why the fuck was this beautiful creature out here all alone?

I check for a pulse, and then I run my hands all along her body, just to check and make sure nothing is bleeding or broken.

Miraculously, she only seems to have a few surface cuts on her. There's a bit of blood on the back of her head but nothing that should require stitching.

Her pulse is steady, so I scoop her up into my arms without hesitation.

And I know it's crazy as hell, but something settles over me. She feels like a prize, like she's mine for the taking.

"Time to get you somewhere safe," I say, startling myself with how low and possessive my voice sounds.

I carry her through the forest, her body pressed against mine, the heat of her a comforting weight against my chest.

She curls into me, nuzzling closer, and my heart starts beating overdrive.

And Christ Almighty, she makes these soft, needy sounds that go straight to my dick.

"Easy now," I murmur, trying to soothe her as I ignore how uncomfortable it suddenly is to walk with this baseball bat in between my legs.

I carry her easily, my cabin not far but secluded enough that no one else would find her if I hadn't. The weight of her in my arms feels right, like she's meant to be there.

As I lay her down on my couch, I can't help but admire the flush on her cheeks and the way her chest heaves as she breathes.

It's not right to want someone this much, especially someone so vulnerable, someone I don't even know. But fuck, I want her.

I start a fire in the hearth, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across the walls, mirroring the turmoil inside me.

She's still unconscious, her lips parted slightly, and I can't tear my eyes away from her.

I should be thinking about first aid, about getting help, but all I can think about is how soft her skin looks, how it would feel under my fingertips.

Jesus, get a grip, man.

I move away to fetch some water and a cloth. I need to clean her wounds. She's got scratches and dirt all over her.

As I dab gently at her face, her eyelids flutter but don't open. My hands shake a little—she's fucking beautiful.

And young. Like a ripe, unpicked cherry.

My cock leaks a stream of precum.

My nostrils flare as I blow out a breath and run a hand along my graying beard.

I'm way too old for a pretty little thing like her. I'm old enough to be her father, for fuck's sake.

I try to push all my salacious thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand.

"Come on, sweetheart, open those eyes for me," I murmur more to myself than to her.

Finally, her eyes flutter open, confusion evident as she gazes around. Her gaze lands on me, and fuuuck .

I'm a goner.