When we reach the edge of the parking lot, he opens the passenger door of a sleek, black SUV and helps me in, one hand curling around my waist as I step up, the other brushing the inside of my thigh as he leans close to buckle my seatbelt.
It’s completely unnecessary.
And completely intentional.
My pulse hammers.
The ride to his place is a blur. I don’t remember what we said, if we said anything at all. Just the heat between us. The silence thick with anticipation. His hand brushing mine when I least expect it. The weight of his gaze every time we hit a red light, burning into me like he’s already undressing me with his eyes.
And then we’re there.
He kills the engine, but neither of us moves at first. The air inside the SUV is thick with heat, with all the things we haven’t said out loud but are written in every glance, every brush of skin.
Then he turns to me, and his eyes grow darker, hungrier. His hand reaches out, slow but sure, and cups the side of my neck, his thumb grazing the hollow just beneath my jaw.
“I’ve been trying not to do this since the moment I saw you,” he says, voice low, rough with restraint.
Then his mouth is on mine.
It isn’t a gentle kiss. It’s not careful or cautious. It’s full of heat and urgency, like he’s starving and I’m the only thing that’s ever tasted right. His lips crash into mine, parting them easily, and the second our tongues meet, a spark shoots through me so fast and fierce I gasp into his mouth.
He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, angling my head to fit him better, closer. One hand threads into my hair, gripping enough to make my toes curl, while the other finds my waist, dragging me across the center console like he can’t stand the distance between us a second longer.
I end up half in his lap, knees pressed into leather, fingers tangled in the collar of his shirt. Every inch of me is buzzing, no,burning, and when his teeth scrape my bottom lip, I moan before I can stop myself.
He groans in response, a sound that vibrates through my entire body. “Damn, you taste like summer and sin.”
My hips shift of their own accord, pressing into the hard length of him, and his hands tighten on me like he’s barely holding himself together. Like he’s seconds away from losing control and taking me with him.
And suddenly, I want that. I want all of it.
“Can we go inside already?”
His eyes blaze, and in one fluid motion, he opens his door, tugging me with him as we stumble out into the cool night.
The place where he’s staying sits tucked in the hills above Silver Peak, rugged and isolated, a mix of luxury and raw mountain charm. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflect the dark sky and scattered stars, while a yellowing light spills from inside, glowing against the pine.
I blink, stunned.
I didn’t even know a place like thisexistedin Silver Peak. It’s the kind of cabin you see in luxury travel magazines. High-end, remote, clearly designed for wealthy tourists looking to “rough it” in style. Not the sort of place any local would stumble into.
Whoisthis man?
The question floats through my mind, hot and intense. But it fizzles just as fast.
It doesn’t matter.
Not tonight.
He locks the door behind us with a softclick, and I turn to find him watching me like he’s already unwrapped me in his mind.
“You good?” he asks, voice low and rough as gravel.
I nod, heart thudding. “You?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Beengoodsince the moment you sang Jolene.”
Then he moves.
