“Jesus Christ, Cole,” I breathed. My fingers traced the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble rough against my skin. “All this time?”
He nodded, eyes still closed as if he couldn’t bear to see my reaction. “I tried to make it stop. Tried everything. But it never went away.” His voice cracked slightly. “And then you left, and I thought maybe with time... but when you came back...”
“When I came back?” I prompted, my thumb brushing across his lower lip.
His eyes finally opened, dark and vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. “It all came rushing back. Stronger than ever.”
Outside, the storm raged on, snow piling against our tent, but inside, something else entirely was brewing. In here, we were in our own little world. Nobody could see us, hear us, or even disturb this moment. We were…safe.
I knew I should have been shocked, maybe even appalled at the revelation that my stepbrother had harbored these feelings for me. Instead, I felt a strange sense of clarity, like puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.
“That day at the bathroom door,” I said softly. “You weren’t just accidentally passing by, were you?”
His cheeks flushed dark. “I wanted to tell you to hurry up with the hot water. But then I saw you and I... I couldn’t look away.”
I remembered the way he’d bolted when our eyes met through the crack in the door. The way he’d avoided me for days after. It all made sense now.
“Is that why you’ve been such an asshole to me? To push me away?”
He let out a shaky breath. “Wouldn’t you have done the same? These feelings... they’re not right, Jesse.”
“Says who?” I challenged, my hand still resting against his face. “We’re not actually related, Cole. We never were.”
“But we were raised as brothers,” he argued, though his body betrayed him, leaning into my touch. “What would people think? What would Jack have thought?”
“Jack’s gone,” I reminded him gently. “And I’ve made it my life’s work not to give a shit what other people think. Maybe it’s time you started too.”
Cole’s gaze met mine, his blue eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. There was fear there, and guilt, but something else too. There was a hunger that mirrored what was building inside me.
“You make it sound so simple,” he said, his voice barely audible above the howling wind.
“It is simple,” I replied, my fingers trailing down his neck to his collarbone. I felt him shiver under my touch, and this time I knew it wasn’t from the cold. “What’s complicated are all the rules we make for ourselves.”
His breathing quickened as my hand continued its journey down his chest. I could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, matching the rapid beat of my own. The tension between us had shifted, transforming into something electric, dangerous.
“Jesse,” he whispered, my name sounding like both a prayer and a warning on his lips. “We shouldn’t.”
“Tell me to stop then,” I challenged, my face inches from his. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Cole’s hand came up to grip my wrist, but instead of pushing me away, he held me there against his skin. I could see the internal war raging behind his eyes, his desire fighting against a lifetime of denial and guilt.
Then… he broke.
His lips crashed against mine before I could process what had happened. The kiss was desperate, hungry, a collision offifteen years of repressed desire. His mouth moved against mine with a frantic need that matched my own growing hunger. His lips were softer than I’d imagined, contrasting with the rough scratch of his stubble against my skin. I moaned into his mouth, my body responding instantly to his touch as heat pooled low in my belly.
Cole’s hands were everywhere at once—tangling in my hair, gripping my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. Our chests pressed together, skin to skin, and I could feel him hard against my thigh through our jeans. The realization that he wanted me as much as I suddenly wanted him sent a jolt of electricity down my spine.
“Fuck,” he gasped when we finally broke apart for air, his forehead resting against mine. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Shut up,” I growled, pulling him back to me. “Just shut up for once in your life, Cole.”
I kissed him again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding against his as my hand traveled down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. He groaned into my mouth when my fingers brushed against his cock straining against the denim.
“Jesse,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.
I knew exactly what he needed. Without a word, I popped the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down. His hips bucked involuntarily as my hand slipped inside, wrapping around his cock. He was thick and hot in my palm, already leaking at the tip.
“Jesus Christ,” he hissed, his head falling back as I began to stroke him slowly.
