New Excerpt from Lion on the Mountain

Elias and Waylon had an easy workday for a Friday, and with a whole weekend off to look forward to, Elias’s mood lifted by the time he pulled into the bar’s parking lot. He was ready to dance, ready to drink, and ready to feel soft hands playing with his hair and softer lips brushing his neck. Would tonight be a blonde, a brunette, or maybe a redhead? Didn’t matter, so long as she could dance and was up for a good time.

He saw Waylon’s truck so he headed on in to find his buddy. There he was, at a high top near the dance floor, a pitcher of beer at the ready. Walking to the table, Elias’ head was on a swivel as he checked out the women clustered at tables and standing along the bar. Several checked him out in return. Their gazes swept up and down his body, lips curving up into seductive smiles. But the usual thrill of deciding which woman he wanted to pursue first just wasn’t there.

None of them are as attractive as Wren.

He pushed the thought of her away as he lifted his chin at Waylon, who’d just caught sight of him. Waylon grabbed an empty mug and poured Elias a beer from the pitcher.

“Maybe this’ll cheer you up.” Waylon pushed the beer across the tabletop as Elias sat down with his back to the door.

“What do you mean?”

Waylon just stared. “Come on. You should have hoovered up at least three women on your way in.”

“I’m waiting for someone special.” Dammit, the words came out all on their own. Elias quickly took a swig of his beer. It was way too hoppy—which taught him to show up before Waylon so that he could order a normal pitcher of beer. The dude was constantly trying new things, the more extreme the better.

“You don’t like it?” Waylon pointed at the mug.

“Is this actually beer or is it just straight-up pine sap? It tastes like licking a forest.”

“Better than the boring shit you order.” He chugged the last of his and poured another. “Don’t tell me you’re waiting on your patient to show.”

“Told you, I don’t date patients.” He took another sip as if a second try would somehow magically turn this undrinkable swill into an actual beer. Surprise—it didn’t. “Like I said, I’m just waiting on someone special.”

Face it. She’s about as likely to show up as this beer is likely to start tasting good. Time to pick up a shot of whiskey and a blonde chaser at the bar.

Elias started to stand but paused when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as chills ran down his arms. But these were good chills—the kind that said something exciting was on the way. He turned around and looked toward the entrance.

His gaze immediately fell on the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Curling chestnut hair framed a perfect oval face. Full, luscious, red lips. Inquisitive hazel eyes that said she was up for all sorts of fun. And her body—she was model-tall but with all the curves Elias could want. He was a shameless boob-man, no denying it, and her blouse was unbuttoned far enough down to show off her ample cleavage.

“And there’s someone special now. Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots.” Elias pointed subtly at her but he didn’t need to. Waylon was already staring as she made her way through the crowd. She outshone every woman around her.

Wren Stapleton had entered the building.

She looked around until her eyes met his and those luscious red lips parted in a dazzling smile.

And yes, Elias’ memory had lied in his dreams.

She was even more gorgeous than he remembered.

“Whoa. She is way above your paygrade, brother,” Waylon said.

“You’re just jealous.” Elias grinned.

“I might be. Except she only has eyes for you.” Waylon grinned back. “Think I’m gonna find myself a dance partner and let you examine your patient.”

“Not my patient.”

But Waylon was already headed for the bar, which might as well have been on the moon as far as Elias was concerned. He stood up to face Wren and his vision tunneled. Wren took up the entire field until she was standing right in front of him.

“Well hi there,” she said as she plopped her bag onto the bar stool beside Elias. “Fancy running into you here.”

“Yeah. It’s not like I told you where I’d be on Friday night.”

“No? I distinctly remember you telling me exactly where you liked to hang out and when.”

Elias tapped his chin. “Oh, that’s right, I did tell you. You know, I was at Riversong this week, too.”

“Were you?” Wren unzipped her bag, reached in, and pulled out his scrub top, folded in a neat square. He hoped she hadn’t washed it, that the scent of her skin clung to the fabric. She laid it on the high top and smoothed her hand over it. Elias got the sudden image of her hand stroking his chest—her long fingers gliding over his pecs and down to his abs, then lower. Hell, he could damn near feel it. He did his best to suppress an intense shiver of desire as his mouth went dry.

“Yup,” he said, his voice catching lightly. “I was at Riversong yesterday and earlier today. I don’t remember seeing you there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea about me.”

“Wrong idea?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “See, I’ve been to Riversong so often that I’m addicted to their cinnamon-honey lattes with a double shot of espresso. I wouldn’t have been able to control myself and order just one.”

Elias felt his lips twitch. “Double shot? So you’re a caffeine addict.”

She nodded solemnly. “Don’t judge.”

“Never.” Elias leaned on the table. “Is that why your pulse was racing when I took your blood pressure? Too much caffeine?”

“Nope. I was relaxed from the acupuncture, remember?”

She took a step closer and Elias caught a whiff of her skin—ripe peaches in midsummer with a hint of salt. His tongue pressed against the back of his front teeth. He rolled his bottom lip in to keep from licking his lips.

“Right, you were totally relaxed. In that case, I’d hate to see your pulse when you’re excited.”

She focused on his mouth as she said, “Aw, what a shame.”

Holy shit.

She lifted her gaze and locked onto his. “Or maybe not a shame. If you checked my pulse right now that would mean I was your patient again.”

He tilted his head. “You don’t want to be my patient?”

She stepped closer until he felt the warmth from her body against his chest. “Nope.”

His lips twinged again. “You weren’t satisfied with my care?”

“Absolutely not.” She pursed her lips in an attempt to look serious but her sparkling eyes weren’t fooling him.

“What was it about my care you didn’t like?” Then he slapped his forehead. “Oh, right. You called me a pervert.”

She pressed her lips together and looked to the side. He noticed her belly quivering with suppressed laughter. “Did I?”

Elias pressed on, just to make her laugh first. “You did. You accused me of bestiality.”

She snickered.

Ha! Score one for me.

“I never said that.”

“Yeah you did,” he continued. “Right after you told me what a nice person you were.”

Her head snapped back and her gaze laser focused on his, making his belly tighten and his cock twitch.

“Hey, you said I was nice first. And you know what? I am a nice person.” She glanced at the two mugs on the table. “I’m so nice, that I showed up at an animal strip joint just to return your scrub top. And, to prove that I’m over-the-top nice, I’m going to sit down here and share this table with you to keep you from looking like a friendless dork.”

Elias snorted. Wren’s eyes blazed and he realized she was keeping a laugh score, too. That did something to his chest. If he wasn’t mistaken, his heart had just broken all the laws of medical science and flipped over.

“I’m not a friendless dork.” He pointed to the two beer mugs on the table. “See? I have a friend.”

Wren considered the mugs. “Or, it could be camouflage.” She rounded the table and took Waylon’s seat in front of his mug. Elias missed the heat from Wren’s skin and her salty, peachy scent immediately. “This mug’s empty.” She reached for the beer pitcher.

Elias’ hand shot out and grabbed hers before she could pick it up. Now, not only did his heart flip when he touched her, but he could have sworn he’d accidentally touched a patient receiving an electrical shock from a defibrillator. Wren looked up at him as if she’d felt the same thing.

“I can’t let you drink that,” he said.

“I didn’t think I was your patient.”

“You’re not. But I wouldn’t let my worst enemy drink that swill.”

“Then why did you order it?”

“I didn’t order it. My friend did.”

Wren twisted on her seat as she looked down and around. “Your invisible friend whose lap I’m sitting on right now?”

Wren scored another point when Elias laughed.

“Why can’t I drink this?” She leaned forward and sniffed the beer. “Wow. This is not swill. This isn’t even beer. It’s a pine tree disguised as beer.”

“Yup, that’s what I told my buddy. There’s a forest in every pitcher.”

She snickered again. That left them tied by Elias’ count.

“So, let me buy you a real drink instead?” he asked.

Instead of answering, Wren glanced at the dance floor then turned her gaze back on him. “Do you dance?”

“I do.”

She stood up. “I think I’d rather dance than drink for the moment.”

“Fine by me.” Elias came around the table and lightly laid his hand on the small of her back. He guided her through the bar until they stepped onto the dance floor. She rewarded him with a grin as she rose up on her tiptoes and leaned toward his ear. Her breath tickled him and this time, he couldn’t suppress his shiver.

“Another reason why I wasn’t happy with your care? You didn’t touch me nearly enough.”

Elias inhaled sharply. Damn. He was used to being the pursuer, leaving no doubt in a woman’s mind what he wanted. Wren was outpacing him, and that was a first.

He liked it.

As she faced him, he pressed his hand against her back and drew her closer just as the first notes of Riley Green’s “Worst Way” started playing. The way Wren smiled told him that she knew the lyrics too. The way her eyes locked with his told him she was feeling every word of a song about desire so strong you skip the wine and roses and go straight for the good stuff.

Elias slid his hands from her back to her swaying hips. He took his time, running his fingers along the stretch of warm, bare skin between her shirt and her shorts, luxuriating in the way her skin rippled under his fingers and her eyelids dropped to half-mast.

“How’s that for touching you?” he breathed against her ear.

Wren rolled her lower lip into her mouth and let it slide back out under her teeth. “It’s a good start.”

She ran her fingers up his chest—lightly, teasingly, just like he’d imagined—and laced them behind his head. Her fingertips played with the nape of his neck and her thumbs caressed the sides of his throat, sending electric tingles throughout his body. Wren swayed to the music like a pendulum, her body casually brushing against his. Teasing. Infuriating. Building a fire inside him that threatened to rage out of control if he didn’t maintain his composure.

He realized his body had other ideas when he found himself pulling her tightly against him, turning the teasing brushes into firm pressure. It still wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

“Wren Stapleton,” he murmured in her ear. “I don’t want to be here with you.”

She jerked in his arms and he gripped her tighter so she couldn’t get away. She looked into his eyes, hers full of sudden confusion.

“That’s not what your body’s telling me.”

“No? It’s not telling you that I’d rather be with you someplace quiet and dark and as far away from other people as possible?” He grinned as warmth replaced the confusion in her eyes. “Guess I’ll have to work on my communication skills.”

“Oh, I see. I feel it, actually.” She pressed against his hardness and did a little shimmy with her hips that made him groan.

“So.” He swallowed hard. “What do you say you come home with me right now?” He felt slightly dizzy at the realization that his happiness depended on her answer. He never asked a woman to his home anymore, but always went to hers so that he could leave before morning.

I never get in this deep, this quickly, with anyone.

But he couldn’t deny it—there was something special about Wren, from the moment she opened her mouth and made him laugh. He wanted more of her.

No. All of her. Now.