Claimed by the mountain.., p.1
Claimed by the Mountain Man, page 1
Claimed by the Mountain Man: An Age Gap Romance
Isla Chiu
Published by Isla Chiu, 2022.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
CLAIMED BY THE MOUNTAIN MAN: AN AGE GAP ROMANCE
First edition. September 15, 2022.
Copyright © 2022 Isla Chiu.
Written by Isla Chiu.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author's note
Claimed by the Mountain Man
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Further Reading: Trapped in the Storm With My Boyfriend’s Dad: An Age Gap Romance
Author's note
ALL CHARACTERS DEPICTED in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
Claimed by the Mountain Man
I KNOW READING MY BOYFRIEND'S text messages is an invasion of his privacy and totally wrong.
But in my defense, how could I not have invaded his privacy when I saw this message pop up on his screen:
Hey, sexy, miss you. Can't wait for you to come back.
And how could I have resisted the urge to log in to his phone when I know that his password is "1234?"
Someone named Shelley sent the text. My heart sinks when I see the picture he saved of Shelley in his contacts. She's blond, tan, tall, and extremely well-endowed–the exact opposite of black-haired, pale, short, and unwell-endowed me.
My heart sinks to the ground when I start reading more texts between my so-called boyfriend Jonah and Shelley.
Jonah: Last night was amazing. I can't wait to do it again.
Shelley: Are you ready to unwrap your present, big boy?
Jonah: Don't worry, I restocked on condoms.
Shelley: When are you going to break up with that girl?
Excuse me, Shelley, “that girl” has a name.
I want to smash Jonah’s phone, but that would be a futile exercise since he has a case and screen protector that make his phone virtually indestructible.
My boyfriend pops into the tent with an oblivious smile. “Hey, babe.”
I hiss, “Who the hell is Shelley?”
No sense in beating around the bush.
For a second, he turns pale, looking like he’s about to shit his pants. Then his face flushes red with indignation. “Were you looking at my text messages? That’s an invasion of my privacy.”
For the briefest moment, I feel guilty until I remind myself that oh yeah, he’s freaking cheating on me. “Sorry,” I say, making my voice thick with sarcasm. “I couldn’t help being curious because, Hey, sexy, miss you, isn’t exactly a message that screams ‘platonic.’”
The red immediately leaves his face. “I’m sorry, Suzu.”
I ask, although I have a feeling I won’t like the answer, “How long have you been cheating on me?”
He winces. “Babe, I don’t know...”
“How long?”
“Six months,” he says in a quiet voice.
I feel like I’ve been ass-kicked in the heart. We’ve been together for 9 months, and he’s been seeing a sidepiece for most of them.
He has the audacity to say, “In my defense, I think monogamy is outdated–”
I shout, “Then you should’ve told me that instead of telling me you wanted to be exclusive!” My rage burns hotter. I shake my head. “I need to go for a walk.” When he gets up to follow me, I clarify, “Alone.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s getting dark, and this is your first time in the woods.”
He’s actually being the voice of reason. While Jonah has gone camping dozens of times, this is my first time, and no one would describe me as an outdoorsy chick.
Unfortunately, for me, the voice of rage has overtaken the voice of reason.
“I don’t care,” I say. “I don’t want to see your stupid lying face.”
Then I run off into the woods.
Am I aware I’m acting like a petulant teenager? Yes.
Am I aware I’m acting not unlike a chick who gets killed at the beginning of a horror movie? Also yes.
But angry pride is one hell of a drug.
Tears prick at my eyes. Now that I’m looking back over the past few months, I think some part of me did suspect that Jonah was acting kind of distant. But I ignored the nagging voice inside my head because I was too in love with the idea of being in love.
A few too many minutes later, I look around me. Shit, where am I? Even among buildings on paved streets, I never had a great sense of direction.
And now I'm surrounded by trees that all look the same to me, with absolutely no idea of how far I am from the tent.
I bring out my phone, prepared to swallow my pride and ask my cheating boyfriend, Hey, um, can you come and find me before I get eaten by a bear?
My heart plummets when I see that I have no signal.
Oh right, the woods aren't famously known for having great cell phone reception.
"I am going to die," I whisper.
The blood in my veins turns into ice when I hear growling behind me.
Oh my God, I am going to get eaten by a bear.
Without thinking, I start running.
When I hear heavy footsteps behind me, I run faster. God, I hope it's a slow and incredibly out-of-shape animal chasing after me.
Because I'm too preoccupied with hauling ass to look at the ground, I trip over a tree root and hit my head against a rock.
Why did I agree to go camping? is the last thing I think before I fall into unconsciousness.
I OPEN MY EYES. PUZZLEMENT washes over me as I look around my surroundings. This is definitely not the tent I’m sharing with Jonah.
It seems like I’m in a cabin in the woods, only the cabin is more like a McMansion with floor-to-ceiling windows that show a view of the forest and mountains. The view would fill me with wonder over the majesty of nature if I wasn’t freaking out over the fact that I’m wearing a stranger’s clothes in a stranger’s house.
By the fit of the white shirt and navy shorts on my body, it seems like the clothes belong to a male stranger who’s approximately the size of a pro wrestler on steroids.
“I need to get out of here,” I whisper. But how? My horrible sense of direction is what landed me here in the first place, and if I attempted venturing into the woods again, I might actually get eaten by a bear.
“Hello.”
I nearly fall off the bed (side note: this bed is like a big fluffy cloud).
“Careful,” he growls, catching me before I hit the floor.
My pulse jumps. I was right about the stranger’s size. He is huge. His arms are like muscular tree trunks, and I swear he must be 7 feet tall.
He’s also super hot, something I did not expect. I’m typically not into bearded guys–Jonah has smooth and hairless skin like a baby–but that black beard really suits his chiseled face and brings out his green eyes.
He caresses my hair. “Is your head feeling okay?” he asks.
“Um, yeah,” I say, surprised when he strokes a bandage on the side of my head.
“Sorry I scared you earlier.”
I knit my brow. “Wait, that was you growling earlier?”
He nods.
“I thought you were a bear,” I say. Though if I turned around and saw a growling 7-foot-tall man with muscles as big as my head, I probably still would’ve run in panic.
“I was trying to say hello.”
He needs to work on his communication skills. But seeing how he lives in a house in the woods, I bet he isn’t exactly a people person.
“Uh, why am I wearing your clothes?” I ask.
“Your clothes got dirty, and I wanted to check your body for injuries.”
Are you sure you didn’t just want to see my boobs? I bite my lip before the words come out. No need to be snarky with the huge man who could likely snap me like a twig with those muscular tree trunk arms of his.
“Well, thanks for cleaning me up and tending to my head injury,” I say. “I should head back to my boyfriend.”
He narrows those green eyes. “Boyfriend?”
"I guess he’s technically my ex-boyfriend now.” There’s no way I can stay with a guy who’s been cheating on me for half a year.
Is it just me, or does Mr. Muscular Tree Trunks look relieved? "Then there's no rush to get back to him."
When he wraps a tree trunk around my hips, my heart leaps into my throat. A nervous laugh escapes me. "You're not planning to kill me, right?"
The corners of his mouth tilt down. "Why would I bother putting bandages on you if I was planning to kill you?"
Good point. I glance down at his pants, which are sporting a prominent bulge. I gulp. Something tells me that's not a piece of wood in his pocket.
Before another nervous laugh escapes me and I ask, What are your thoughts on consent? he asks, "Are you hungry, Suzu?"
I blink. "How do you know my name?"
"I saw your driver's license in your phone case." He cocks his head. "That's a Japanese first name, right? But your last name is Chang."
Jesus, did he also memorize my address? "My mom's Japanese, and my dad's Chinese." Their marriage caused somewhat of a scandal. The Changs weren't–aren't–known for being fond of the Japanese, and vice versa for the Okadas, my mom's side of the family.
I wish
However, when I started dating Jonah, a very Caucasian guy, they were for once united. Unfortunately, what united them was disapproval of my love life.
I wish I could say that going against my parents was worth it.
Mr. Tree Trunks says, "I'm Rhett Hayward."
My eyes pop out of my head. "Wait, are you that...?"
He nods.
Well, that explains the mansion in the woods.
Two years ago, Rhett Hayward was the billionaire CEO of Hayward Tech, an eco-friendly car company that was giving Tesla a run for its money. Then one day, he caught his wife in bed with his CFO. A quick but expensive divorce followed (by the end of it, Rhett was no longer a billionaire but a mere multimillionaire), and to everyone's shock, he abruptly resigned as CEO and went off to become a man of the woods.
"Do you like venison?" he asks.
"I've never tried it."
"Do you want to try it? I'd cook some for you."
I should say no. Having dinner with a strange man is usually not advisable for a young woman.
But I'm hungry, and I don't feel like seeing my unfaithful ex-boyfriend's face or eating one of his bags of survival food. Last night, we ate spaghetti from one of those bags, and I realized I could hate pasta.
And if Rhett really wanted to take advantage of me or hurt me, he would’ve done it by now...right?
As if reading my thoughts, he says, “You’re safe with me.”
When he strokes the bandage on my head again, I decide to believe him. “Okay.”
For a minute that feels like a small eternity, he stares at me. Unbidden questions come to my mind–is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me?
He stands up. No to the first question.
But maybe to the second one.
“Shout if you need anything,” he says.
For another minute that feels like a small eternity, he stands there, his green eyes glued to me.
“Um, okay,” I say, flushing under his scrutiny.
Finally, he nods and leaves the room.
I fall back down onto the bed, exhaling. God, this is so much better than sleeping outside in a tent. I am most definitely not a camping girl. Masochistically, I wonder if Shelley is a camping girl. Well, if she is, she’s now free to sleep on all of the uncomfortable grounds and eat all of the gross survival spaghetti with my ex-boyfriend.
I check my phone. Speaking of my ex-boyfriend...
Jonah: Suzu, are you okay? If you are, please let me know that you’re alive.
My heart softens the tiniest bit. He might be a dirty cheater, but he did warn me to not go for a walk in the woods by myself out of concern for my safety.
I text: I’m okay. A guy found me and helped me out.
Just as I type, You won’t believe who found me. Do you remember Rhett Hayward? I receive this text from Jonah:
Wait, are you with a guy right now?
I raise my eyebrows. They reach the goddamn ceiling when his texts continue:
I can’t believe you. You got on my case about Shelley, but you’re fucking a random guy right now.
My blood turns hot with fury. The fucking audacity of this guy. My blood reaches a boiling point when he sends me this:
I bet you’ve been cheating on me.
Clenching my teeth, I type, I never cheated on you. Unlike your lying ass, I keep my promises. But just in case it wasn’t absolutely fucking crystal-clear before, we are over. So you can do whatever the hell you want with Shelley and whoever else you want, and I can have tons of filthy and wild sex with Rhett Hayward, who by the way is better than you in every conceivable way!
I practically smack the send button.
Admittedly, not my most mature moment, but where did he get off getting mad at me? And it’s not like I’m going to have sex with Rhett Hayward...
Right?
I shake my head. Rhett is undeniably one fine piece of man, but I just met the guy. And who says he's even attracted to me anyway?
Besides the big erection he rocked earlier...
"Oh my God, stop," I mutter. He's been in the woods by himself for 2 years. He would probably get erect at the sight of anything that resembled a woman.
He returns to the room. Involuntarily, my eyes travel to his pants. Yep, he's still sporting a major bulge.
"Dinner's ready," he says.
"Oh, thank–"
I'm cut off when he picks me up from the bed.
"Why are you carrying me?" I ask. I breathe in his scent. He smells like soap with a hint of, well, the woods.
"You hit your head earlier."
That doesn't mean I'm incapable of walking.
But I don't say anything because truthfully, I don't mind being carried by him at all.
We enter a dining room that's bigger than my apartment. My belly growls when I see the food on the table. The venison looks like it could be steak from a fancy restaurant, and there are roasted mushrooms and fingerling potatoes.
After he puts me down in a chair, he says, "Eat."
I obey readily, cutting into the venison.
As I take a bite, he asks, "Do you like it?"
I nod, smiling. "It tastes like beef." And so much better than survival spaghetti.
He asks, "So how did you end up walking in the woods by yourself?"
"Well, I was camping with my boyfriend–"
"I thought he was your ex-boyfriend." Are my ears deceiving me or does Rhett sound a little perturbed?
"He was my boyfriend at the beginning of the camping trip. But when I found out that he's been cheating on me for several months, he became my ex-boyfriend."
Are my eyes deceiving me or does Rhett look a little pleased?
"He's an absolute jackass for cheating on you," he says.
I turn pink under his emerald stare. "Thanks," I say. "Thank you for everything, for taking care of me and cooking me dinner."
"No problem."
Ever so slowly, he moves his head toward me. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want him to kiss me?
Maybe to the first question.
Most certainly yes to the second one.
Of course, I completely wreck the moment and end up spilling potatoes on my shirt.
My cheeks darken to red when I see the new oil stains on the very white fabric. "Shit, sorry, this is your shirt..."
"Don't worry about it.”
“I’ll pay for dry cleaning–”
“I said don’t worry about it.”
I catch my breath when he draws me onto his lap, right on top of the bulge in his pants.
“God, you’re huge,” I blurt out.
The edges of his mouth quirk up. “I come from a line of tall southern men.”
“Well, I come from a line of petite Asian people.”
He laughs, the sound making my insides unfurl with pleasure. But my pleasure morphs into something akin to anxiety when he plays with the buttons of the shirt I ruined.
“It’s getting late,” I say. “I should probably call for a Lyft.” I’m not sure if I would be able to find a driver willing to pick me up in the middle of the woods. However, I definitely can’t ride back to town with Jonah.
The smile falls off Rhett’s face. “It isn’t safe for a young woman to ride in a Lyft by herself.”
As opposed to a young woman staying in a secluded mansion with a 7-foot-tall stranger with a raging hard-on? But I doubt Rhett would hurt me; the man tended to my injuries and fed me. “Are you telling me I should spend the night?”
“Yes.”
Then he kisses me at last.
The anxiety morphs back into pleasure as he cups the back of my head and slips his tongue between my lips. Then he moves his hips, rubbing his erection against my sex and making me groan into his mouth.
“I want to fuck you,” he rasps.
His time in the woods must have made him rusty on his seduction techniques.
Nonetheless, it works for me.
“Well, all right,” I whisper.
With nary a bit of effort, he picks me up and carries me back to the bedroom.
