Hiding Out In The Mountains – Greene Mountain Boys Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)

She’s the ultimate temptation.
One that I can’t touch yet one that I can’t resist.
Her father was my best friend in the Navy SEALs.
He gave his life for mine.
And how do I repay him?
By lusting after his only daughter.
The last time I saw her she was a kid.
But she shows up on my doorstep in trouble and she’s all grown up.
All grown up and irresistible.
But she’s off-limits for an old grizzled mountain man like me.
I owe it to her father to keep my hands to myself.
But I want her.
So badly I can’t think straight.
I’ll let her hide out in my secluded mountain home.
I’ll protect her from the bad men chasing her down.
But who is going to protect her from me and my dark desires?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One


Does it ever fucking end?

That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. I ask it again when I walk into my sketchy apartment building and see the handwritten Out of Order sign taped to the elevator.

It’s one in the morning and I’ve been working since five AM. I don’t have the energy to walk up seven flights of stairs right now. I don’t even have the energy to wash my face.

I take a deep breath and head to the stairwell. This building is in one of the worst areas of Seattle and it’s full of people you don’t want to run into in a stairwell at one o’clock in the morning. I don’t have much of a choice though, so I suck it up and head inside.

So far, so good. There’s tons of graffiti on the wall, broken beer bottles everywhere, and cigarette butts shamelessly tossed about, but no people. I quickly work my way up the stairs.

My feet are killing. Every day starts at five AM at the diner where I seat people and answer the phones. After my eight-hour shift, I race home to work on my custom sticker shop that I’ve been struggling to get off the ground. It took me three years to scrounge together six thousand dollars for the equipment to make custom stickers that people order from my online shop. I put together the orders—if I have any—and then race to the post office to deliver them before it closes. From there, I head to the Chinese restaurant where I work as a delivery girl.

The days are long but the years are… also long. I’ve been working all kinds of crappy jobs since I was sixteen years old. I’m twenty-two now and I’m hoping this sticker business is my way out.

I’m determined to make it work. I busted my ass for years to buy a high-end printer and an expensive cutting machine to give my customers the very best stickers I can make. For the first time in a long time, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

My business might work out.

Does it ever fucking end?

Maybe… Maybe soon.

I breathe in a little sigh of relief when I arrive on the seventh floor. I didn’t run into any of the future convicts who live in my building along the way, so I’m counting that as a win.

This is a rough neighborhood and I’m always looking over my shoulders, fearing for my safety. It doesn’t help that I’m alone in life. No family, no friends besides the acquaintances I have at work, and definitely no boyfriend. It’s my job to keep myself safe. No one else’s. It would be nice to have someone looking out for me for a change, but that’s not the hand I was dealt.

I crack the door to the main hallway and listen for voices with my key sticking out of my fist like that’s going to do a damn thing to anyone out there. A baby is crying from one of the apartments and there’s some loud bass vibrating through the walls, but no one seems to be in the hallway.

God, I hate it here.

One day, when my sticker business takes off, I’m going to move to a place where I don’t have to fear for my life every time I take the garbage out.

But that day is not today, so I push the door open and hurry down the hallway to my apartment. I glance over my shoulder as I go. There’s a new graffiti symbol tagged on the wall and someone ripped up a portion of the carpet. Lovely.

My heart slows as I arrive at my door. But just as I’m about to shove my key into the lock, a door at the end of the hall bursts open.

I jump up and gasp as a frantic man with a shaved head and wide bulging eyes explodes out of it. He runs down the hall like he’s just seen a monster. He’s tall and lanky, wearing baggy jeans and a dirty undershirt. His lean muscles are clenched tight over his pale sweaty skin.

He doesn’t even notice that I’m standing here as he sprints by me.

“No!” he screams as he looks back in horror at the open door.

The monster emerges.


I don’t know what he does for a living, but I’m sure it involves a lot of meth, guns, and dead bodies. He’s wearing a black suit—no tie—and a white shirt in a style that can only be described as drug dealer chic. He lowers his head, peering forward over his dark sunglasses. His greasy hair is slicked back and he hasn’t shaven in days.

Gun! Holy shit, he has a gun!

I flatten myself against the door as he stalks forward and raises the pistol in his hand. Those dark sinister eyes are glaring at the fleeing man.