“Why are you out of my bed?”
I giggled, but his eyes bore into me, waiting for my answer. “I was just getting ready?—”
Once again, the hockey player grabbed me, and I went over his shoulder as I screamed with laughter. “Gabe!”
My stomach knotted as we approached his bed. While I thought I might be thrown like after the kitchen attack, this time he carefully placed me on the pillow and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. He crawled over me and took his spot by my side.
I looked over, and we were again face-to-face. “I want to see you here, in my bed, for a while.”
I whispered, “I’m here.”
“You’re here.” He reached down, untied the bathrobe, and pushed it off my shoulder. “I want to see every inch of you. I want your every curve burned into my mind.” His finger slid across my shoulder. “I’m afraid this cabin may never be the same after I’ve had you in my bed.”
I leaned in and kissed his cheek as he pushed my hair over my shoulder. “And on the dresser at three in the morning.”
He chuckled as he kissed my neck and tattoo. “Oh, how I remember the dresser.”
I ran my finger across his chest. “Never forget the dresser. Kind of epic.”
She was loading the dishwasher when I sprung in, grabbed her, and pulled her into me. I kissed her forehead as she wrapped her arms around my waist. I just wanted to have another day alone with Fern.
The feelings I didn’t want to bubble up were. What in the hell was I doing? Everybody would arrive soon, and I was very aware that time was flying by too fast. There was a pull I didn’t like when I thought of Sunday and her leaving.
Since the minute I’d arrived, calmness seemed to wrap around the cabin as if we were in a bubble that was safe and happy. It had been years since I felt any sense of peace, and there was a gripping panic at the thought of losing it…of losing her.
Her hands slipped under my shirt as those ocean eyes pulled me in. “We have a little time before anyone gets here. Right?”
I brushed my lips over hers. “A little.”
“I want to make the most of this weekend pass.” She giggled. “Who knows how long it’ll be before I get any action again.”
Her words turned my blood to tar. I inhaled deeply, realizing that knowing her and experiencing her might end up cutting me in a way I hadn’t anticipated a few days ago.
She reached up and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I lifted her, and those amazing legs wrapped around my waist. It was becoming our thing. So perfect and so effing hot.
My hand slid into her hair, the other wrapped around her waist, as I set her on the counter. My lips held hers while I pulled her even closer. She broke the kiss and tugged my shirt off over my head before repeating the act with her own, whipping it into the air.
Our kisses were so filled with electricity they were testing my sanity. I pulled her chest to mine while her fingers ran across my back. I made sure she felt my whiskers which seemed to light her up. Sure enough, a sigh escaped her that nearly undid me.
“I could become addicted to you,” she muttered.
Yes, be addicted, and never leave.
Her breath was ragged as my lips kissed her neck. She ran one hand through my hair while the other yanked at the button of my jeans. Just as I reached around to unclasp her bra, we jumped as a car horn blew from outside.
“Crap!” Fern squirmed her way out of my arms. It was a shit show as she grabbed her shirt from the floor and pulled it on only to see it was actually my shirt. She frantically yanked it off and threw it at me before whisper-yelling. “Where the hell is my shirt?”
I pointed to the ceiling fan as it dangled above us. I tossed it to her at the same time we heard the front door open.
Once dressed, she gave my chest an unexpected forceful push, and I toppled over the open dishwasher door behind me, landing on my rear.
A snort laugh popped out of her. “Get up!” She took my hand, and I got to my feet just as Dave and his girlfriend Liv walked in.
Fern dropped my hand and flashed a tense smile. “Hey.”
My enormous six-foot-five friend Dave, or soon to be murderer, stood before us wearing jeans, a red and black plaid flannel shirt with his thick head of black hair, and trimmed beard. His eyes were the same blue as Fern’s, and they narrowed and stuck to Fern like glue.
While I’d known Dave since our college days, I hadn’t seen him up close and personal in the role of brother although I’d heard him on the phone with her and knew they were close. No secrets were kept. Well, at least until now.
