Page 53

This day had been too much.

Too confined.

Too confusing.

Too full of Phoebe.

And now his brain was scrambled, and his cock ached and he just wanted to hold her. He wanted to eat that little sound she’d made when he kissed her.

God, why had he kissed her? It was all he could think about.

This was all a mistake, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

He wanted her. Goddamn it, he wanted her so bad he thought he might crawl out of his skin to get to her.

And now he was stuck in this cabin with her for the night because the snowstorm had kicked up into high gear and even with his snow tires, they wouldn’t have gotten very far. And for some insane reason, this cabin only had one room and that room only had bunk beds.

Fee had claimed the top when she led him in here, and now he was stuck lying underneath her—but not in any way he’d ever imagined.

She was quiet for a long time, and he thought maybe she had fallen asleep. The snow outside the window cast the room in a pale glow. It was quiet except for the wind and Fee’s slow breathing.

Her sweet honeysuckle scent filled the room. Several feet separated them, but the air was thick with anticipation. His skin felt too tight, his breath too shallow. He felt like he might explode if she didn’t speak soon, if she didn’t give him some clue as to what the hell was going on.

“Fee,” he groaned through clenched teeth. “What⁠—”

“Touch yourself and pretend it’s me.”

Holy shit.

Theo’s thoughts stuttered to a complete stop.

“You want me to…”

Phoebe let out a breathy little sigh that already had him nearly coming in his pants. “I want you to touch yourself, Theo. Pretend it’s my hand wrapped around your cock.”

“Jesus, Fee,” he cursed, scrambling to unbutton his jeans. He pulled them down past his hips, far enough for his cock to spring free. “Tell me,” he choked out. “Tell me what you would do to me.”

Phoebe shifted above him, the fabric of the sheets shushing beneath her. “I…” He could practically hear her swallow. “I would wrap my hand around you and stroke you, slow from bottom to top.”

He followed her words, doing the same with his own hand.

“Until…”

“Yeah…”

“Until you were groaning and squirming. I would run my hand up your stomach, run my nails across your chest.”

Fuck. He could feel it.

“Until your thighs and stomach were tense. Until…”

“Yes, Fee…”

“Until your cock started to drip for me.”

“Jesus Christ. And then what?”

She squirmed in the bed above him, and he was glad he couldn’t see her. If he met her gaze now, with his hand stroking his cock and her words ringing in his ears, he’d explode. And he didn’t want this to be over yet.