Tempt Our Fate: A Small Town Enemies To Lovers Billionaire Romance (Sutten Mountain)
Tempt Our Fate: Chapter 21

My body freezes as I watch him rush away from me. I can’t move. My entire body is flushed, and my lips are still parted as if they were closing around his thick, calloused thumb.

It feels like freezing cold water has been thrown on me, and I don’t know how to react.

I was about to let Camden Hunter kiss me. In fact, I think I was close to begging for him to press his lips against mine just once. I lost total control of myself the moment he got too close to me.

The entire day has felt different. Hate was mixing with lust, and when I felt his breath hot on my cheeks, I forgot every reason why I shouldn’t let him kiss me and only focused on the one reason he should—because for one moment, there was nothing more I wanted than to know what he tastes like.

I bet he kisses angrily, with a pent-up rage that is all-consuming. I bet he fucks like that, too.

And for just a moment, I was desperate to know what it felt like to feel his anger in a different way. The rushed movement of his lips, the punishing bite of his teeth. I wanted to feel it all.

We were so close, until we weren’t. One moment, my thighs were pressing together to try and soothe the ache between my legs; the next moment, all I saw was Camden’s back as he got as far away from me as possible.

When I finally get my shit together, he’s already disappeared down the hill toward where we’d tied up the horses in a small meadow. I push hair from my face, trying to cool my flushed skin. The sun beating down on me doesn’t help, despite the chill in the air thanks to the mountain breeze.

Part of me wants to let Camden go. I want to be glad that he stopped us before anything could have happened. We don’t like each other in the slightest. There’s no reason we should ever kiss. But no matter how hard I try, there’s a tinge of disappointment in my chest because I wanted so badly to know how he kissed, how he tasted, what sounds he’d make if my cheeks hollowed out around his thumb.

It doesn’t take long for that disappointment to turn into anger. It must be something he’s good at, being such an asshole that it gets my blood boiling. I angrily shove myself off the ground before snatching up the quilt and our coffees. I hold them tightly against my chest as I head in the direction Camden just traveled.

He doesn’t get to tell me he wants to kiss me and leave.

“Camden!” I yell. He’s got one leg in the stirrup of Rebel’s saddle as he swings his other leg over the horse. He doesn’t do it with any kind of grace. If anything, he looks incredibly uncomfortable trying to lean forward to grab the reins from where they dangle at Rebel’s side.

“Camden,” I hiss, now closer to him. I’m well aware of the bite in my tone. I have no reason to hide how furious I am with him for running away without any kind of explanation. My heart hammers against my chest in anger—and maybe still from feeling his touch—and I can hear the angry thrum of my pulse ringing in my ears.

He doesn’t bother to look at me when he clears his throat to speak. “I’ve got to go,” he clips, digging his heels into the horse’s sides.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn, watching him still try to grab the reins from where they brush in the dirt.

Rebel prances anxiously, tossing his head up and down, which is never a good sign. He’s a great horse, but he doesn’t do well in high-stress situations.

I break out in a run, nearing Camden and Rebel to try and calm the horse. Rebel loves it when you run a hand along his neck, telling him to calm with a gentle tone to your voice. Camden doesn’t know how to do any of that—not that I think he would right now, even if he did.

Instead, he digs his heels into Rebel’s sides once again without having any way to guide the horse with the reins still not in his grip.

“Just wait,” I snap, almost to them.

Camden doesn’t wait. Instead, he clicks his tongue to tell Rebel to go. The horse does exactly as he’s told. It all happens in slow motion. Rebel kicks his back legs out, showing his discomfort with the entire situation. I try to whisper gentle reminders to the horse to soothe him, but it doesn’t work. My attempts to grab onto the reins don’t go anywhere because of the way Rebel thrashes his body.

He rises on his back legs, letting out a long, angry whinny. I almost take a hoof to the face as he comes back down. The quick movement from Rebel has Camden tumbling to the ground with a loud thud.

I’m too busy watching it happen with horror that I don’t notice Rebel coming back down. One of his legs clips me in the shoulder hard enough to have me falling to the ground.

Rebel takes off, galloping away. All Camden and I can do is watch him run down the mountain.

“Great job,” I fume, wiping my dirty hands on my jeans. “Now we’re down to one horse.”

“Are you okay?” Camden’s voice sounds concerned as I look up to replace him hovering over me. Scoffing, I shove him away from me, not needing his concern.

“No, I’m not, actually. I’m pretty pissed, thanks for asking.”

He runs a hand along my forehead. I slap his hand away immediately, ducking under his arm to put distance between us.

We must be a sight for sore eyes. He looks a mess, with dirt covering his jeans and a scrape going down his arm. The skin is red and angry, blood trickling from one of the spots. He must have hit a rock on the way down. He doesn’t seem to notice it, his eyes still trained on me.

“Did the horse get you in the head? Maybe you shouldn’t be standing.”

I roll my eyes, looking at my horse to luckily replace Tonka as calm as ever. At least we didn’t lose both of them with Camden’s stupid idea.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have lost one of our horses,” I spit. “Rebel will know how to get back to the stables, but he certainly won’t come back here.”

His nostrils flare as his eyes track my entire body. The lust that was in his eyes earlier is gone. Now, there’s concern in them as he thoroughly inspects every inch of my body.

“Anything hurting?”

“I’m not the one who’s bleeding,” I answer, nodding toward the blood trickling from the wound on his arm. He looks at it, his eyebrows going to his hairline like he didn’t even realize it was there.

Maybe if he wasn’t so busy worrying about me, he’d notice that his stupidity got him hurt. It can’t be bothering him too much if he didn’t even notice it to begin with.

“Maybe you should worry about your arm—or the fact we’re down to one horse—and stop hovering over me and pretending you give a shit. Now we have to share a horse the entire ride down.” I tense up at the thought of having to feel his body pressed against mine for an hour. I’m pissed at him, no longer wanting to kiss him but back to considering strangling him. I don’t want to have to be anywhere near him, but he wanted away from me so fast that he lost one of the horses in the process of getting the hell away from me.

Cade is going to go into a tailspin when Rebel returns alone.

Camden’s jaw flexes, and I swear I can hear the sound of his teeth grinding against one another. “We’ll call for someone to bring us a new one.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to stifle the angry laugh bubbling inside my chest. “Good luck getting service. And even if we could, they wouldn’t be up here for at least an hour. Is the thought of sharing a horse with me that bad?”

“Yes,” he answers immediately. His voice is lower, more uncontrolled than what I’m used to with him. It almost sounds strained, like it pains him to imagine sharing a horse on the way down. That would make two of us.

“God, you’re so hot and cold.” I angrily untie Tonka’s reins from a branch. He whinnies at me happily, ready to get going and completely unaware of the tension between Camden and me.

“I’m not getting on the horse with you.” He’s regained composure in his voice, his cold, calculating demeanor firmly back in place.

I finish stuffing our belongings back in the saddle bags, completely ignoring him. I don’t even look in his direction until I’m in the saddle and ready to go.

He scowls as I stare down at him. He looks so out of place up here in the mountains. His hands are shoved into his pockets uncomfortably, blood and dirt still coating his forearm. Camden could look good in anything, but it looks unnatural to see him in a T-shirt and jeans.

“I’m not getting on there with you, shortcake,” he repeats, trying to avoid looking me in the eye.

“It’s going to be a long walk down, then,” I respond, directing Tonka forward.