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My eyes flutter from his lips to his eyes. I tilt my chin and rest my hand against his solid chest. His heart thumps against my palm, sending a magnetic pulse of electricity racing through my body. His eyes flit to my lips. The intensity of his gaze deepens my hunger and impatience. I shiver as goosebumps lace my sensitive flesh.
I’ve wanted Roman for an achingly long time.Please kiss me, my body quietly begs.
“You should change into dry clothes.” He places a chaste kiss on my forehead. His hand glides over my back as he removes it from my body.
A flash of heat stings my skin as part of me dies inside.
***
Roman
Bea steps away from me, her face stricken and pale. The tip of her nose pinkens as she blanches. For a moment, the faintest shimmer sparkles in the corner of her eyes.
“You aren’t old, Roman.” The tremble in her voice is unmistakable. “And I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“Bea, I...” My words trail off.
She turns her back to me and hurries from the room. My gut wrenches. I’ve hurt her in the worst possible way.
I run a hand over my neck, regretting everything about today. It sucks being the voice of reason. Bea has no idea how difficult it is to stop myself from making the biggest mistake of our lives. Indulging in the desires of the flesh could cost me everything I hold dear.Bea, Blake, and the extended family I’ve been lucky enough to know for most of my life.
The metallic jingle of bells and faint swish of fabric linger in the otherwise silent cabin as Bea changes in the other room. I shrug out of my leather jacket and the protective gear I wear while riding my bike. My body aches from skidding down the slope, but things could be worse. Nothing’s broken, and scratches are minimal.
“If we’re going to be stuck together, we might as well make the most of it.” Bea drops a box of tangled string lights at my feet. “You’re in charge of lights.”
I glance at the box, then catch sight of the painted red toes peeking from beneath an oversized pair of gray sweatpants. My gaze shifts upward to her waist, where she’s rolled down the elastic waistband so it hangs loosely below her exposed belly button. I follow the patch of bare skin to the bottom of her cropped sweatshirt. It juts out, gaping beneath the curve of her pert breasts.
My balls tighten uncomfortably, but I don’t dare move and give away my reaction. It’s all I can do to keep my jaw from going slack. She’s definitely not a little girl. She’s all woman with curves in all the right places. Places I have no business dwelling on.
“On it.” I make it my job to look her in the eye.
Her lip quirks into a sly smirk. She knows damn well the effect she has on me, and she’s enjoying it. Sweat prickles at the nape of my neck.
“I’ll get the ornaments. I think they’re still in Grandma’s sewing room closet.”
She turns on her toes. Her hips sway as she pads across the floor. My fingers itch to grab her by the hips and haul her over my shoulder straight to the bed at the end of the hall. I grab a handful of tangled lights instead.
“A metaphor of my life,” I grumble to myself.
I pluck at the mangled mess, but the harder I yank, the more tangled the green wiring becomes. My attention is split between the task at hand and the shuffling of boxes in the adjacent room. Rustling tissue paper and glass ornaments clinking together distract me from thinking about Bea’s soft, bare skin.
Heavy snow rumbles across the cedar shake shingles overhead as its weight slides along the sloped roof. I almost forgotten about the blizzard warning, but I’m reminded of the danger when the overhead lights flicker. I lean back on the sofa and lift the blind. The cabin’s shrouded in a sea of white in the darkness.
The lights flicker again, this time leaving the cabin in near pitch-darkness. A jarring crash and brief scream ring out down the hall. More thuds follow in succession. I toss the box of lights and hurry down the hall in the dark in search of Bea. I’ve been in this cabin a hundred times and know its footprint forward and backward, but I still stumble over my feet trying to get to her.
“You okay? Bea?” I reach the spare room and carefully pick my way across the floor, shuffling my feet so I don’t step on anything spilled across the floor. “Stay where you are. Don’t move.”
“Don’t youeverget tired of bossing me around?” Bea’s exasperated tone stops me in my tracks.
“If you’d rather I go back to the living room, I’m happy to leave you in the dark,” I tease, though I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. I pat down my jeans, searching for the phone in my pocket, but it’s gone. Probably buried in the snow near my bike. “Is there a flashlight in here?”
“Only the headlamp Grandma wore when she did needlework. It’s on the table to the right of the door.”
I tap the table with my fingers spread wide until I feel the contraption. I adjust the head strap to fit my noggin and flip on the light. Bea throws a hand over her eyes as I light her up like a birthday candle. She’s perched on a wooden stool with a box of spilled family mementos at her feet and an open box of heirloom ornaments clutched to her chest.
“You’re blinding me.” She waves the light away with her hand while squeezing her eyes shut. “Turn that light the other way.”
“Panty waist,” I tease and shift the light off center.
