Sweat glistens on her collarbone. Her tank top clings in places that outline her breasts. I circle her. Correcting her form. Touching her arms. Her back. Her hips. Every contact builds the pressure inside me. My control is iron but it bends under this kind of heat.
She tries a full combination. Her foot slips on the wooden floor from the fuzzy socks. I catch her before she falls. My arm bands around her waist. She lands against my chest with a soft oof. Her hands press flat over my heart. For a second neither of us moves. Her breath warms my shirt. I feel every curve of her body molded to mine. My cock hardens fully. Throbbing. Demanding. I want to lift her. Carry her to that one bed. Strip away every layer between us and sink deep until she forgets the cartel exists.
Instead I set her gently on her feet and step away. My hands drop to my sides. "Careful. We’ll work on balance next."
She tucks that stray hair behind her ear. Her cheeks flush deeper. "That was. Intense. In a good way. You’re really good at this. Teaching, I mean. And protecting. I feel a little less helpless already. Thank you, Jax." Her voice goes shy at the end.
I nod once. Turning toward the window so she can’t see how badly I want her. The snow falls steadily outside. Sealing us in tighter. "You’re not helpless. And I’ll keep teaching you. Every day if we need to. But right now you should rest. Drink some water."
She hesitates like she wants to say more. I feel her eyes on my back. The pull between us crackles like the fire in the stove. Strong. Immediate. Dangerous. I can’t cross that line. Not when her life depends on me staying sharp. Not when I know I can’t give her the kind of forever she deserves.
I move the coffee table back into place. The scrape of wood fills the silence. My body still hums with unspent tension. Every muscle tight. Every instinct roaring to claim her anyway. I shove it all down. Lock it tight.
This is about keeping her alive. Nothing else.
Even if every second in this cabin tests every ounce of control I have left.
5
Ava
The cabin feels too small after that self defense lesson even though it’s not. My body still hums from all the places Jax touched me. Professional touches mostly. But every brush of his strong hands on my waist or wrist or hips left little sparks dancing under my skin. I can’t just sit here replaying every moment or I will absolutely lose my mind. My brain’s already drafting entire scenes likeThe Marshal’s Hands Teach More Than Defenseand that’s not productive right now.
I hop off the stool and start tidying. The place isn’t even dirty. Jax keeps everything spotless like the ultimate prepared mountain protector. But I need something to do with my hands before I start babbling about how good he smelled when he stood behind me during the choke hold demonstration. I wipe down the already clean counter with a dishcloth. Then I straighten the heavy quilts on the bed even though they look perfect. My fuzzy socks whisper across the wooden floor as I move to the small kitchen area and reorganize the few cans in the cupboard by size. Tall ones in the back. Short ones up front. It’s soothing. Familiar. Like shelving books back at the library.
Jax watches me from near the window. His arms are crossed over that broad chest and his steel eyes follow my every movement. I feel his gaze like a warm touch. It makes my cheeks heat and my stomach do happy little flips.
"You don’t have to clean," he says. His voice is that low rough rumble that curls my toes. "The place is fine."
"I know. But if I sit still I’ll start imagining cartel ninjas hiding behind every snowdrift or worse. I’ll start narrating my own life out loud like the hopeless bookworm I am. Cleaning keeps me from going full on meltdown." I flash him a shy smile and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Plus it’s nice to feel useful. Even if I’m just pretending the dust bunnies are plotting against me."
A hint of amusement softens his hard features. He uncrosses his arms and steps closer. "We can go for a walk then. Fresh air. The snow has eased enough. I’ll keep you safe."
My breath hitches. A walk with Jax. In the snowy woods. Alone but not really because he’s my giant growly shield. "Yes please. That sounds perfect. Lead the way Marshal Hartman. I promise not to trip over any innocent tree roots and embarrass myself."
He helps me into my coat with gentle hands that linger just a second on my shoulders. Then we step outside into the crisp mountain air. Snow crunches softly under our boots. The world around the cabin is a beautiful white wonderland. Tall pines heavy with fresh powder reach toward a pale blue sky. The cold nips at my cheeks but the sun peeks through and makes everything sparkle like a scene from one of my favorite winter romances.
Jax stays close. His big body angled to shield me from the wind even though it’s gentle now. He points out plants as we walk acleared path near the cabin. "Those are fireweed shoots starting to push through over there. Tough little things. They grow fast after a burn or heavy snow."
I lean in to look. My arm brushes his and a warm flutter spreads through me. "Fireweed. That’s such a cool name. Like it fights fires with flowers. What about those tiny purple ones peeking out? They look like they’re wearing little bonnets."
"Mountain lupine," he says without hesitation. His voice carries that quiet confidence that turns my knees to liquid. "They fix the soil. Help everything else grow. And those yellow ones clustered by the rocks are glacier lilies. They come up early even in this cold."
I stop and stare at him with wide eyes. "How do you know all of this? You sound like a walking nature encyclopedia. I’m seriously impressed. I only know the difference between fiction and nonfiction sections."
He glances down at me. Those intense eyes soften a fraction when they meet mine. "Being a tracker taught me a lot about the woods. What grows where. What tells a story in the terrain. You learn to read the land the same way you read your books."
A tracker. Of course. My protective marshal has layers upon layers and I want to peel back every single one. "That’s amazing. I bet you can follow a trail through a blizzard while naming every flower along the way. You’re like a real life book hero but with actual skills instead of just brooding good looks."
We keep walking. The snow muffles our steps and the air smells clean and piney with a hint of earth where the sun hits. Jax points out more. Wintergreen with its glossy leaves. Bearberry bushes heavy with tiny red fruit. He even crouches down onceto show me delicate tracks in the snow and explains what made them. His knowledge makes me feel safe and enchanted all at once. Like he knows this mountain inside and out and can protect me from anything it throws our way.
"Do you travel a lot for work?" I ask shyly after a while. My breath puffs out in little clouds. "With all this knowledge I imagine you’ve probably been everywhere."
He nods. His shoulder brushes mine as we walk side by side. "All over the world. Assignments take you places. Jungles. Deserts. Mountains like these but halfway across the globe."
I sigh softly and hug my arms around myself. "I’ve never left Montana. Not once. I travel when I read though. I’ve been to Paris and ancient Rome and even outer space in the pages of my books. It feels real enough most days."
Jax stops and turns to face me. The wind ruffles his dark hair and he looks so strong and steady standing there in the snow. "Maybe one day you can travel the world for real. See it all with your own eyes."
