Chapter 17
Nash
Iknew it the second I opened the cabin door and found her coat gone from the hook.
The fire was still going. The blanket she’d wrapped herself in last night—after she came apart in my arms like snowfall—was folded on the couch.
But she was gone.
And I deserved it.
Because I left first.
Stupid.
I didn’t even think it’d take me long. Just a quick hike to the ridge. A favor. Something that might show her—
That this wasn’t just snowstorm sex.
That this wasn’t just a fling, a contest, or a weird, glitter-covered hallucination.
She’d made my cabin a home. She didn’t even mean to. She just… was.
And I didn’t tell her.
Instead, I slipped out before sunrise like a jackass, with no note, no kiss, no explanation.
And now she thinks I ran.
So I do the only thing I can do. The only way I know how to fix this.
I come back through the storm, arms full of pine boughs, a tree slung over my shoulder—six feet tall, perfectly imperfect, handpicked from the ridge near Phantom River where the wind cuts sharp and the silence feels holy.
My boots slam against the porch, snow flying. My jacket’s soaked through, my beard frozen with flakes. My lungs burn like I ran through the goddamn desert again.
But I don’t stop.
I storm into the cabin, notice her missing coat, and stomp right down the hallway to my bedroom.
And there she is. Suitcase in hand, frown on her face.
Noel. Red coat on. Bag half-zipped. Eyes puffy, cheeks blotchy. She looks like she’s trying real hard not to fall apart.
Too late.
Her eyes widen when she sees me. The tree. The snow caked into my hair.
“What the hell—”
“I hiked five miles,” I cut in, breathing hard, “through a goddamn blizzard, for this.”
I drop the tree in front of her.
Snow scatters across the wood floor.
She stares. “You… went out there? For a tree?”
“No.” I take a step closer. “For you.”
She blinks.
I don’t stop.
“You were gonna leave,” I rasp. “And maybe I deserved that. I should’ve said something last night. But I didn’t leave because I regretted it. I left to get you this.”
Her voice cracks. “A tree?”
“A real one. No contest. No cameras. No gimmick. Just something real.” I pause. “Something you won’t want to run from.”
Her lips part. Her fingers tremble.
“Noel…” My voice drops, rough and low. “You made this place feel like Christmas again. You made me feel like a man again.”
Her breath catches.
And then she’s flying at me—mittens and all—fist pounding into my chest.
“You idiot!” she cries, punching once, twice. “You disappeared! I thought—” Her voice breaks. “I thought you just wanted sex. I thought I was some glittery trainwreck you regretted!”
I catch her wrists gently, not to stop her—just to feel her. “I could never regret you.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears.
“You left before coffee, Nash.”
I smile, crooked and wrecked. “To find a tree.”
She shoves me once more, then collapses against me.
And then her mouth is on mine.
Not sweet. Not soft.
Desperate.
Teeth. Tongue. Fury. Longing. All of it wrapped up in one feral, soul-splitting kiss that tastes like smoke, snow, and forgiveness.
I groan, clutching her hips, but she pulls back first.
“No,” she pants. “My turn.”
My brows rise. “Your turn?”
She grins like a woman who just decided to commit a felony.
And I’m the victim.
She pushes me back, hard, toward the fire. Her hands yank open my coat, dropping it to the floor, then work at my shirt. The fabric peels away, revealing steam-slicked skin.
“Christ, Noel—”
“You went caveman this morning,” she says, eyes dark. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel something real.”
I don’t argue.
She pushes me to the rug in front of the fireplace, straddles me in one fluid motion, and pulls her sweater over her head.
No bra.
She’s art. She’s fury. She’s winter wrapped in heat and holiday revenge.
My hands grip her thighs, but she slaps them away.
“I’m in charge.”
I smirk. “Bossy.”
“You like it.”
She’s not wrong.
She kisses me again, deeper this time, grinding against me until I’m clawing at what little patience I have left.
“Fuuuck…”
Her palms press to my chest. Her hips roll.
She rides me like she owns me.
Eyes locked. Mouth parted. Hair a mess of static and sweat and glory.
The Christmas tree sparkles behind her, catching the firelight. The scent of pine and her skin wraps around me like a drug.
I’ve never wanted anything more.
And I’ve never been more hers.
She leans in, mouth at my ear.
“This feel real enough for you, mountain man?”
I growl, hands gripping her ass. “You have no idea.”
She moans.
And I swear the heavens part.
Snow falls against the windows. The fire roars. And we fall into each other like fate finally decided to do something right.
She rotates her hips.
“You’re a horny little thing this time around,” I husk in her ear, hands circling her stomach.
“I can’t help it. I just want to jump you every time I see you.”
I grin. “Good. I like you wet and needy for me.” I slip a hand between us, circling her clit as she rides me. “Come with me, little bird.”
Her eyebrows nearly shoot into her hairline. She wraps her arms around my neck. With my hands at her thighs, I leverage myself deeper inside of her, my dick seared by the hot, wet flesh between her legs.
The smell of cut evergreen cuts through with the scent of her soaked pussy, dripping for me.
“I need you, please.” Soft groans fall past her lips; her cheeks burn, her chest blooming red. “Jesus, I think you were made for me.”
I palm her torso, devouring every inch of her as I sink deeper. My hand finds her breast, kneading the flesh, teasing her nipple. Her moans urge me on as I bottom out in her decadent body.
“Fuck, baby.” I fist her hair and arch her head back, tugging until her eyes flare and a moan escapes her throat.
“This fucking body craves me. It wants my lips.” I kiss around her ear.
“My tongue.” I trail it up her neck. “My dick.” I grind against her.
She wraps her arms around me, rakes her nails under my shirt, digging them in.
A hiss of pain claws from between my teeth.
“Fuck me, Nash. Hard,” she growls, and it sends heat straight to my balls.
I try to rein in my coming release as I swivel my hips and plow into her, slamming once, twice, again and again as she breathes profanities in my ear.
Watching her lose herself like this, wild and urgent, the world falls away until it’s just us, out of control and needing each other.
My mind rockets off when I bury myself deeper in her sweet heat.
“I love taking you like this,” I murmur through clenched teeth as her nails trail down my sides, arching my back. I bite back the ache and focus all my energy on thrusting deeper into her, just like she wants.
“When you fuck so hard… so deep… I feel you everywhere. Only I can fuck you the way this sweet, soaking wet pussy likes it—hard, deep, and fast. My sweet little snowflake likes it rough.” I shift angles, thrusting into her again. “No one can fuck you like I can.”
“Yes, oh God, yes.” She arches, and I tug her nipple with my teeth as her pussy spasms around me.
Pleasure waves crash over her; sweat beads on her skin, her heels digging into my ass.
With my jeans at my thighs, I pause to savor her pussy pulsing around my cock, then find my rhythm and erupt inside her, filling her as my balls empty every last drop.
My blood settles, warm and slow, as the aftershocks of my orgasm fade.
She threads her fingers through my hair, tracing soft circles on my scalp.
I drop my head to her shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of our lovemaking.
I nip at her collarbone, cradling her head with one hand buried in her damp hair. Wild and tangled, just how I like her.
I ease out, relishing the slow drag of my cock against the hot walls of her pussy.
She sighs as her feet touch the ground. “That was amazing.”
I tuck myself back into my jeans, shake my head, and press a kiss to her lips. “You’re amazing.”
I help her pull her pants back up, brush loose strands of hair from her face, and trail a thumb across her flushed cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you.”
She sighs, lacing her hand with mine. “I think you need your eyes checked.”
“My eyes are fine. It’s you that does this to me.”
I kiss her knuckles.
“Thanks for the orgasm,” she giggles.
“Mm…” I grasp her thighs. “You look even better with me inside you.”
I kiss the hollow between her breasts, her heartbeat hammering like mine.
“You didn’t just decorate my cabin,” I murmur.
She lifts her head, sleepy smile on her lips. “No?”
I shake my head. “You rebuilt me.”
She curls up on my chest, and for the first time in years—
I don’t feel alone.