“Yeah, I mean, you rubbed your pussy all over my face, sucked my dick—what else was I supposed to do?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re unbelievable.”
He laughs. “I’m just messing with you.”
“Well, I’m not used to this, Hunter. Where’s the sullen, closed-off guy I met?”
His eyes flick to mine, then away again. “You made him feel.”
My throat goes dry. “Is that… bad?”
“No.” His fingers brush my cheek. “It’s just… different.”
We stay wrapped in each other, the fire still giving off a little heat and the occasional spark. I’m not sure where to go from here. I glance out the window and see the snow has stopped falling, though we’re still pretty much snowed in.
I lean in and kiss him, then pull back and whisper, “Different can be good. Different can be what you need.”
He doesn’t respond. He just nods and pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me once more before closing his eyes. “No more talking.”
9
HUNTER
The cabin was dark, lit only by the fire and the faint flicker of Christmas lights Sierra had strung around the mantle. I don’t even know where she pulled them from, but the sweet touch was nice. The place felt cozy, almost like a home with her in it.
And that scares the shit out of me.
The snow was still coming down, Christmas Eve was nearing, but I couldn’t think about that. She was never meant to be here. No one was meant to be here. Yet now that she is? I don’t mind it.
But it can’t last.
I was never supposed to care again, because that’s when you get hurt. Caring too much, having to protect others, it’s a lot to take on. I’ve always just done it, until I failed. And that failure doesn’t ever leave you. I made a promise to myself never to put myself in that spot again.
Thensheshowed up.
I couldn’t turn her away in the worst storm of the winter. It was like fate was laughing at me with that ridiculous story about renting a cabin through whatever-the-fuck-it-was dot com.
So here we are, tangled in the old quilt on my bed, skin flushed from lust and laughter.
“You keep looking at me like you’re starving,” Sierra murmurs, brushing her fingers along my chest.
“I am.” My voice comes out rough, as I hover above her. “You fed me soup. I’m still hungry.”
She laughs, her legs wrapping around my hips. “Pretty sure soup doesn’t usually lead to sex.”
“With you,” I say, dragging my mouth down her neck, “everything leads to sex.”
She gasps as my tongue flicks over her collarbone, my hands sliding down to hold her hips, thumbs tracing the sensitive dip just inside the curve of her thighs. Her breath hitches when my mouth moves lower, worshipping her with a reverence that makes her ache, I just know it.
I’m overwhelmed by the need to claim her—to keep her here with me on this mountain. Whatever work she does, I’m sure she can do online. I just want her close.
“You’re so damn soft,” I growl against her skin. “And I can’t get enough of you.”
Sierra arches beneath me, her body trembling with need. She runs her fingers through my hair, tugging gently. “Then take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Those words hit me, because I’ve heard them before. Hell, I’vesaidthem before. And they were all lies. I close my eyes, letting my lips linger on her skin, forcing myself to stay here, in this moment, with this woman.
But this time, I believe those words. I believe Sierra is strong enough to hold her own. She quit a job where she wasn’t being treated right. She took a break, went off the grid because she needed to regroup. She gave me hell and refused to take no for an answer. She knows what she needs—so I have to believe that the words she speaks are true.
