“He’s a good man,” Michael agrees. “And his kids are… Well, they’re great kids. Kind and smart and clearly well loved. Maybe they rubbed off on Bellamy. Changed the way he saw things.”
I cover his hand with mine. “I’m sure they did, but we’re all more than one thing, Michael. We can be bad with money and loyal. Loving and selfish. We are a jumbled collection of our scars and medals. And all our moments, good and bad, keep shaping us throughout our lives.”
“Is that a teacher’s way of saying people are shitty, but we shouldn’t judge them because we are too?”
“I’m all about teachable moments. But that was my way of saying that if you want to give this thing with your brother a chance—and you must, since you accepted the invitation—you should go into it with an open mind instead of misplacedpreconceptions. Don’t make him carry someone else’s sins. Give him a chance to piss you off with his own flaws instead.”
His lips quirk. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
We stare at each other, everything we just shared hovering in the space between us. We come from different places and we’ve had very different experiences, but underneath it all is this connection I still can’t shake or deny. In spite of the constant low hum of arousal that surrounds me in his presence, I actually feel comfortable with him. Eating and talking over coffee, sharing our histories with no expectations or judgement. Just acceptance.
Is it the man or the moment? It could be because we’re cut off from the rest of the world by a white wall of snow, safe in this warm cabin. Our own island. Where there’s no future to worry about and no obligations to fulfill. Just two men baring our souls and two tiny dogs that snore like lawnmowers.
If I have to be stuck in a Snowpocalypse with anyone, I’m glad it’s him.
He turns his palm and tangles his fingers with mine. “You really do have beautiful eyes, Win.”
It should have sounded like a cheesy pickup line but his delivery is too sincere for me to doubt him. When his thumb caresses my hand, I feel it everywhere. A zap of electricity. This kind of chemistry can’t be forced or faked, only experienced.
“You’re not the first to tell me that. A few months ago, some dude with Thor hair and a rockin’ bod was so mesmerized by them he invited me back to his hotel room.”
He laughs again.Score.“Thor hair?”
“Since I didn’t know you cut it, I may or may not have been fantasizing about you wielding a hammer.”
“And today? Now that you know?”
To keep myself from jumping him, I inhale one last fancy cookie. “Today, I survived the elements and was rescued by theshort-haired winner of baking, who has averyinteresting life and happens to like my eyes. If it weren’t for my ankle, I would think it was all a lovely and incredibly detailed dream.”
Michael leans in closer. “Today I heard someone singing in the woods and had the man I’d been fantasizing about for months fall into my arms.”
I smile. “What a day.”
“What a day,” he repeats softly.
Michael stands and circles the island until his thighs are pressing into my knees, then snares me with a heated look. “It’s not over yet.”
“Is that a promise or a challenge?”
He cups my jaw with his hands, studying my features. He’s giving me a chance to push him away, but that’s the last thing I want to do. He sees the answer in my eyes, and slowly lowers his mouth to mine.
He tastes like rough-and-growly man-cake with please-fuck-me frosting and I’m still hungry for him. I follow his lead as he devastates me with a kiss that is pure domination andneedneedneed.
How is this lip-lock better than the first one that completely blew my mind? Did he spend those missing months at the School of Win, memorizing every secret desire I’ve ever had? Because it feels like he might have. A nip here. A tease of the tongue there. Suckingjust like that. It’s so blatantly sexual it’s almost disrespectful. So good it scares me.
“Are you sure?” he asks when he raises his head for a ragged breath. “You’ll tell me if I’m crossing a line? If you’re hurting or you need me to stop?”
My ankle is wrapped, I’m warm and fed, and my head doesn’t hurt anymore. All I can think about is finally finishing what we started in the pub. Finally knowing what this kind of passion feels like.
“More,” I whisper, leaning toward his mouth. “Please, Michael.”
CHAPTER TEN
He manhandles me again,dragging me off the stool with hands that tremble against my hips. Or maybe I’m the one shaking. The desire that I’ve been containing since that night is finally loose and ready to burn everything down to get to him.
Maybe I’m the beast now.
I feel like one when I wrap my legs tight around him and moan into his mouth, unwilling to let him go this time. I need this too much.Need him so much.
