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He glances at me from the stove where the bacon is sizzling in a pan. There’s a dish towel thrown over one shoulder, making him look adorably domesticated. “Nope. Everything is under control; you don’t need to do a thing.”
My fingers twist in my lap beneath the counter as I suck in a breath before steadily forcing it out again.
Once the bacon has crisped, he sets the pieces on a paper towel covered plate so the grease can drain and places four slices of bread in the toaster. Humming beneath his breath, he pulls out the mayo and lettuce from the fridge before expertly cutting up the tomatoes. When the toast pops up, he assembles the sandwiches, splitting them in half and delivering them to the breakfast bar with a small bag of potato chips for each of us.
“Dinner is served,” he says with an easy smile.
“Thank you.”
We dig in, talking about everything that has changed on the property since he was here five years ago. The loss of my father was difficult for all three of us, but it was especially rough on Brayden. The two of them had a close relationship. My father was a professional football player, and from the time Brayden could walk, they were always tossing around a ball. When they were at the cabin, they spent a lot of time outdoors fishing in the lake, tromping through the woods, riding ATV’s, and camping in the backyard.
Even though I enjoy nature, I’m more like my mother in that regard. Neither of us has any interest in sleeping outside when there was a perfectly good bed under a roof where the bugs —or anything larger—couldn’t get at us.
Once we’ve finished off our sandwiches, I grab both plates before taking them into the kitchen and dropping them in the sink to wash later. A fresh burst of nerves skitters across my flesh as I swing around and find Carson watching me intently.
There’s a moment of silence before he asks, “Any interest in watching a movie?”
The air wedged in my lungs rushes out in a burst. It doesn’t make sense how I can want something and yet be filled with so much anxiety at the same time.
It takes a concerted effort to loosen my shoulders from around my ears. “Sure.”
His penetrating gaze never relinquishes mine as he rises from the stool and holds out his hand for me to take. It’s not a conscious decision on my part. Before I can even think about it, my feet shuffle forward until his hand can close around mine. It only takes one small tug for me to tumble into his arms. Some of the anxiety rioting inside me settles at the innocuous contact.
“You know that we don’t have to do anything, Elle. We can chill out and enjoy the cabin if that’s what you want. There’s no pressure.”
I nod.
Of course he would say that.
Carson would never force me into anything I wasn’t ready for. I think the fear gripping me has more to do with the great unknown. I have a faint idea of what to expect, but the details of it are still murky. Without a doubt, he’ll make this the best experience it can be and won’t do anything to purposefully cause me pain. That knowledge has the remaining tension in my shoulders dissolving as I tilt my chin upward until my gaze can lock on his. I rise onto the tips of my toes before brushing my lips across his. Everything about Carson is solid and hard.
Except his lips.
Those are soft and cushiony.
A shiver works its way through me when I think about what it felt like to have them coasting over certain parts of my body and how much pleasure he’s capable of giving.
“On second thought,” I say, surprising even myself, “I’m not interested in watching a movie.”
“Oh?” His brows furrow. “What do you want to do then? Check out the hot tub? Maybe start a fire in the pit and roast a few marshmallows?” Before I can respond he tacks on, “There were always tons of board games upstairs. We could grab one of them. You used to love Monopoly.”
I still do. I always end up owning Boardwalk and Park Place like a boss bitch. Then I load up the properties with hotels and bankrupt the other players. As fun as that always is, it’s not what I have in mind right now.
I suck in a shaky breath and force out the words. “I want you to make love to me.”
His body grows impossibly still. “Right now?”
Pressing my lips together, I jerk my head into a tight nod. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I want Carson, and I want him now. There’s something empowering about being the one to voice the decision. As if I’m the one in control of the situation.
