Red Hot In The Mountains – Greene Mountain Boys Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Olivia T. Turner Advertisement

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My arms and shoulders got strong in that forest. My hands can crack walnuts. Seriously, I got grip strength for days.

All of that to come home and make fancy vases for rich people. I grin as I start working the clay harder. The clay rises under my palms, tall and smooth, responding to pressure the way it always does when I’m locked in. My shoulders flex as I pull the clay upward, guiding it into a long, thick shape.

I grin to myself as I look down at it.

The round head, the long shaft… It looks like I just made a hard cock.

If someone walked in, they’d think I’m making dildos in this studio.

I’m about to dip my thumbs into it, to open it up, but I hesitate. I don’t know why… But it feels good to have this shape in my hands.

I glance up without thinking—and there it is.

The calendar.

It’s pinned to the wall near the kiln, curled slightly at the edges from the heat. Mr. April.

Mr. Hot Stuff.

I’ve had it open to that page since March.

I feel a pulsing heat between my legs as I look at him laughing, sexy as hell, imaging this hard, wet, spinning, meaty hunk of clay was him.

I tell myself it’s stupid. That it’s just a calendar. A fundraiser thing. A gimmick.

But my eyes linger anyway.

He’s smiling in the photo, dirt in his cupped palms, shirtless, rock hard muscle all blurry behind those big hands. There’s a tiny tomato seedling sprouting out of the dirt and the way he’s cradling it, protecting it, I don’t know, but it really does something to me.

I’ve never been into the whole ‘sexy fireman’ thing. Heck, I was guilted into buying the calendar by the nice librarian who really wanted to renovate the library. I didn’t even want it, but I put it up as a joke in January.

Well, I’m not laughing now. Mr. April has got me all turned around. Maybe I need to get out more. Visit the town. See actual men.

But I know that’s not it.

It’s not the abs or the fireman thing… It’s those hands…

The way he’s holding the fragile seedling so carefully. The genuine smile on his face. Those blue eyes. This is a man built for danger who’s choosing gentleness. The kind of man who could break things—but chooses to protect instead.

That contrast gets under my skin.

It feels intimate. Almost private. Like I’m seeing something I wasn’t meant to see.

For half a second, I imagine those hands on me instead. The thought flashes hot and fast.

I swallow and look back down at the wheel, heat curling low in my belly as the hard clay spins in my palms.

I stroke it up and down, imaging that beautiful smile turning into something else… Those kind blue eyes turning lustful… Those soft hands becoming dominant and demanding…

The song changes and I catch myself with a gasp.

It’s not a sexy song—Thunder by Imagine Dragons—and it yanks me out of my lustful daze and brings me back to reality.

I shake my head, refocus, and dig my thumbs into the clay, spreading the form wider, turning it into a bowl.

A big unsexy bowl.

But still… As I lean over and work the edge, I can feel his eyes on me. I can feel those warm feelings still swirling through me.

I should go switch the month so I can focus.

I shake my head as I pull on the clay, feeling the familiar movements under my fingertips.

I’m not the type to get distracted by a silly fireman calendar.

Or a man.

So, I don’t really get why I’m stuck on Mr. April.

I’ve never really dated. There was never time. I’ve always been so focused on trying to make it as a potter. Japan kept me occupied through my early twenties. And there was nothing sexy about Shigeru Hoshino and his other cranky apprentices.

Then, when I came back to America and set myself up here in the Greene Mountains, I was so busy learning how to renovate this barn and set up my own studio. After that, I was busy getting clients and begging local stores to take my work on consignment.

There was always something to do. Another shelf to build, another piece to fire, another problem to solve.

But now that I got my feet under me, my studio is set up, my work is starting to sell in stores, my bills are paid (mostly)… I guess those long hibernating thoughts and desires are starting to wake up and make themselves known.

This studio is amazing, and I do enjoy the solitude, but maybe having someone to share it with once in a while would be nice.

Maybe my hands can learn some new tricks on something or someone new. Maybe it would be nice to have someone to snuggle with on my bed during these cool mountain nights. Maybe it would be nice to have a guy around.


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