Chapter Sixteen
Bella
Vermont
“Then stay.”
The words should have felt like a trap, an invitation with teeth, or a final test of my resolve. Instead, they landed like permission.
I stood in the entryway, my hair a tangled mess from the helmet and my cheeks flushed with a cocktail of cold, laughter, and a wild, terrifying sense of freedom I hadn’t tasted in years.
My body was still humming from the mountain.
My lungs were still stained with the crisp bite of winter air.
My skin still remembered the way it felt to move without the burden of thought.
The day should have been ending. We should have been retreating toward the versions of ourselves that made sense, the roles where I was careful, controlled, and untouchable. But the mere thought of stepping back into that rigid life made my chest tighten with a sudden, sharp ache.
I didn’t want the day to end. I refused to let this be a pocket of happiness I simply folded up and hid in a drawer like a secret.
I wanted more.
I wanted more of the laughter in my ear, his quiet competence, and the unexpected warmth of his humor. Most of all, I wanted the way he looked at me, as if he could see the parts of myself I’d spent my entire life burying.
I stared at him. He’d offered me an out. He’d offered me control. And somehow, that gesture alone made me want to throw it all away.
My breathing shifted. I felt it first in my blood; it was that internal pivot where the body decides before the mind can even formulate an argument.
Drew didn’t move. He just watched me, braced for whatever choice I made.
That restraint was the most dangerous thing about him.
It made me feel safe. It made me feel powerful.
It made me want to do something reckless.
I stepped forward. His gaze dropped to my mouth. I could see the question written in the darkening blue of his eyes. It wasn’t spoken or demanded: Are you sure?
My hands found his chest. He was warm through his shirt, solid and undeniably real.
And then I kissed him.
It wasn’t a hesitant brush of lips or a cautious test. It was a kiss that answered every unspoken question, a kiss that took exactly what I wanted.
His body went still for a heartbeat, as if my choice had shocked him, as if he’d truly expected me to say something sharp and retreat behind my armor.
His hands gripped my waist, pulling me in so fast my breath caught.
His mouth opened under mine, and he kissed me back like he’d been holding himself upright with sheer force and my lips had finally knocked the support beam out from under him.
The kiss was heat and hunger and absolute relief.
My fingers slid into his hair, damp and thick, and I tugged harder than I meant to. Drew made a sound against my mouth, low and almost surprised, that turned my bones to liquid.
“Bella,” he murmured. My name didn’t sound like an accusation. It sounded like a warning he was powerless to stop giving.
I kissed him again. Hard.
I felt the ghost of a smile against my lips before he turned us, backing me into the wall with a surety that stole my breath.
My back hit the wood, and my heart hit my throat.
Drew pressed his body into mine, just enough to make the point, and I felt the weight of him and the arousal he was no longer bothering to hide.
My entire body lit up. I slid my hands down his chest, desperate for the feel of his skin. He caught my wrists gently. He didn’t stop me, but he anchored me for a beat. His eyes searched my face, dark and intent.
“Tell me,” he said, his voice low. “Tell me you want me.”
I didn’t have the luxury of pretending I didn’t. I lifted my chin, my breath shaking. “I want you.”
The moment the words left my mouth, his restraint shattered.
He kissed me again, deep and hungry, and this time his hands moved with absolute purpose. He stripped my gloves off first, tossing them onto the bench like they were meaningless. Then he pushed my snowsuit off my shoulders, letting it slide down my arms.
The cold air hit my skin, but I barely felt it. Drew’s gaze swept over me, quick and consuming, and his hands followed, skimming my waist, my ribs, and my stomach as if he needed to prove I was real.
I reached for his snowsuit next, my fingers clumsy and far too eager as I fumbled with the zipper.
“Jesus,” he muttered, not unkindly. He leaned his forehead against mine for a second, trying to steady himself. Then he helped.
The snowsuits came off in a chaotic tangle.
My helmet had been abandoned somewhere, forgotten.
We were awkwardly, comically helping each other balance on one leg then another.
There were too many layers. A zipper snagged, a sock went flying.
We both laughed, short, breathless sounds between desperate kisses.
He kissed my throat, my jaw, and my mouth again. I clung to him like I had everything to lose. His hands gripped my hips and lifted me, and I yelped in surprise, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
Drew’s mouth curved at the corner. “Still sure?” he asked, breathless.
I kissed him again. It was the only answer that mattered.
He carried me as if I weighed nothing, and I hated how much I loved the feeling of being held that way.
He moved toward the stairs, and the absurdity of it flickered through my brain: the foyer, the gear, the storm, and the fact that twenty-four hours ago I would have rather swallowed nails than admit I wanted this man.
Now, my mouth was on his neck, and I couldn’t get him close enough.
We didn’t make it past the first few steps. Drew stopped like he’d been hit by a bolt of lightning. He set me down on a step, just long enough to move between my knees. His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my under clothing down with a force that made me gasp.
“Drew,” I breathed.
He looked up at me, eyes sharp. “Tell me to stop.”
I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I shook my head, and it felt like the ultimate surrender.
His gaze held mine for a beat longer, as if he were memorizing the exact moment I chose him.
Then he kissed the inside of my knee, and I made a sound that wasn’t dignified or “Holliston approved.” It was pure, unadulterated need.
After helping me out of my clothes, he stood and pulled me up again. My body was trembling. I kissed him hard, my hands fighting with his remaining clothing. His breath hitched, and he caught my wrists again, pulling my hands away long enough to force me to look at him.
“There’s no going back from this,” he said quietly.
I could hear the storm against the window and the house settling around us. I could feel the weight of everything waiting for us outside these walls. And still, I wanted this. I wanted him. I wanted to be the woman who didn’t always have to fix everything.
I leaned forward and kissed him one more time, slow and deliberate. “Then don’t let me go,” I whispered.
The sound Drew made wasn’t a laugh or a groan. It was something rough and real. He lifted me again and pressed me against the wall halfway up the stairs, his mouth on mine like he’d been starving. His hands slid beneath my shirt, palms hot on my skin.
I arched into him. He broke the kiss long enough to drag my shirt over my head.
The cold air met my bare skin, and Drew’s expression changed. It was as if the sight of me made him angry at the world for ever keeping us apart. His mouth closed over my breast, warm and demanding, and my head fell back. I gripped his hair and tugged, and he groaned against me.
The sound went straight through me. I shifted my hips instinctively, rubbing against him, and Drew’s hand gripped my thigh.
“Easy,” he murmured.
“Don’t,” I breathed. Easy was the last thing I wanted.
Drew’s eyes met mine, the intensity making me shiver. “Bella,” he said again, and this time my name sounded like it finally belonged in his mouth.
His fingers slid between my thighs and found me, touching me with a surety that made my knees go weak. I gasped, my eyes squeezing shut.
“Look at me,” he said.
I opened my eyes. His gaze was dark and steady, and his touch was anything but gentle. I made a sharp, helpless sound. Drew’s mouth pressed to my throat as he worked me with his fingers, slow at first, then faster as my body began to tremble.
The storm outside howled, but inside, I was falling apart.
“Drew,” I whispered, and his name tasted like surrender.
He kissed me hard, swallowing my next sound, and he didn’t stop until my body clenched and pleasure rushed through me so suddenly I couldn’t think.
I cried out against his mouth, my legs tightening around him.
Drew held me through it, his hand firm on my hip, keeping me grounded while I came undone.
When it passed, I was shaking, my forehead resting against his shoulder. Drew’s breath was ragged.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he said.
I laughed, a breathy, disbelieving sound that didn’t belong to the woman I was supposed to be.
Drew pulled back, something softening in his expression. “Bedroom,” he said, his voice rough. “Now.”
The command made heat flare in my stomach. He carried me the rest of the way, and this time I let myself be held without a single argument. We reached the top of the stairs, and the hallway blurred into a haze of warm light and the roar of the wind. He pushed open the first door he found.
It didn’t matter whose room it was. It didn’t matter if the world ended. The only thing that mattered was the way his hands shook slightly as he set me down, like he was fighting for control and losing.
He locked eyes with me as he tore open a drawer. Condoms. Of course. Because Drew Burke was still Drew Burke, even when he was losing his mind.
The crackle of the foil package made me clench. He stripped the rest of his clothing off fast, then came back to me and finished undressing me with a reverence that made my skin heat.
“I’ve wanted to do this for years,” he admitted quietly.