“Can I see you tomorrow?”I asked, my voice husky.Had I ever needed a woman more in my Goddamned life?
She smiled, a genuine curve of lips.“Yes.I’d like that.”
“Good.”I brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger against her cheek.“Sleep well, Mia.”
She slipped out of my jacket, handing it back with obvious reluctance.“Goodnight, Oktober.”
I waited until she was safely inside with the door locked before turning back toward my own cabin.The path seemed darker without her beside me, the night colder without her warmth.Three days.Not enough time to explore whatever this was between us, but perhaps enough to discover if it was worth pursuing beyond our time at the lake.
As I neared our cabin, I glanced back over my shoulder.A light still burned in her window.I wondered if she watched me walk away.Wondered if she regretted not inviting me in.Wondered if I’d have had the strength to refuse if she had.
Chapter Four
Mia
I woke to sunlight stabbing through my eyelids and a drummer taking up residence in my skull.The whiskey from last night had exacted its revenge, pounding behind my temples with vicious tenacity.Worse than the hangover was the lingering heat between my thighs, a reminder of dreams filled with Oktober’s hands, his mouth, his body pressed against mine.Dreams that felt far too real and left me aching in ways that had nothing to do with alcohol.
“Fuuuuck,” I groaned, rolling onto my side and pulling the pillow over my head.The sheets twisted around my legs felt too warm, too confining.I kicked them away and lay spread-eagle on the mattress, willing my heart to slow its frantic rhythm.
In my dreams, Oktober hadn’t stopped at a kiss.His hands had roamed my body freely, leaving trails of fire across my skin.He’d kissed my breasts, my belly, my pussy… I’d woken twice during the night, disoriented and throbbing with need, only to fall back into the same dream.
I forced myself to sit up, wincing at the protest from my head.Water.Aspirin.Coffee.In that order.
I fumbled through my toiletry bag for pain relievers, swallowed them with water, then set about the ritual of making coffee.I leaned against the counter, eyes closed, letting the rich aroma slowly replace the sour taste in my mouth.
Cup in hand, I pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the porch.Morning had transformed the lake into a mirror, reflecting the cloudless blue sky and surrounding pines in perfect symmetry.The air smelled clean, the morning dew glistening on leaves and spiderwebs in the trees around me.I sank into the Adirondack chair on the deck and drew my knees to my chest, cradling the coffee mug between my palms.
Last night felt dreamlike.Had I really kissed Oktober?Had he really held me like I was something precious?I touched my lower lip, remembering the gentle scrape of his beard, the heat of his mouth, the surprising softness of his lips and the erotic slide of his tongue against mine.
And I’d initiated it.Both times.The memory sent a flush crawling up my neck.
What was I doing?I’d known the man for all of three days!He was an ex-con biker with tattoos, the sexiest German accent, and probably women all over the place.I was a reading specialist with more education than good sense and a freshly broken heart.We had nothing in common except that we both seemed to have a healthy dose of lust when it came to each other.
I tried to rationalize it as a rebound attraction.My body seeking validation after Eric’s betrayal.A natural response to Oktober’s obvious masculine appeal and the flattery of his attention.But that explanation felt hollow, insufficient to explain the way my skin tingled if he even looked at me with that wicked grin on his face.
A distinctive rumble broke the morning stillness.The sound grew louder, echoing across the lake until a motorcycle appeared around the bend in the access road.My mouth went dry as he pulled up to my cabin and cut the engine.
Oktober dismounted in one fluid motion, a plastic bag in his free hand.His faded jeans hugged muscular thighs, and his black T-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, revealing the edges of tattoos peeking from beneath the short sleeves.His blond hair was loose today, falling to his shoulders in waves that caught the sunlight.He moved with the confidence of a man entirely comfortable in his own skin.
“Guten Morgen, Kätzchen,” he called, climbing the porch steps with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.“I thought you might need this.”
“You called me that before.”I loved the way he said the phrase in that German accent of his.“What does it mean?”
He grinned.“Kitten.”
He set a cardboard cup holder on the small table between our chairs.The rich scent of fresh coffee, far better than what I had, wafted toward me.Beside it, he placed the paper bag, which released the unmistakable aroma of warm donuts.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I said, reaching for the coffee.Our fingers brushed, sending a jolt through my system that had nothing to do with caffeine.When I glanced up at him, he just smiled, either not affected like I had been or better at concealing his emotions.
“Hangover, little Mia?”he asked, settling into the chair beside mine, a wide grin on his face.His knee occasionally bumped against mine as he arranged himself, each contact sending small shocks through my nervous system.
“Is it that obvious?”I managed a small smile.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.“Your eyes.They have that particular squint that comes from too much whiskey and not enough sleep.”He opened the paper bag and offered it to me.“Apfelstrudel.Best cure for a morning after.”
I peered inside at a pastry that looked homemade rather than store-bought.“You bake?”
“Ada bakes.I steal.”His grin was unapologetic.“Eat.It helps.”
