Chapter Four
Mia
I woke to sunlight stabbing through my eyelids and a drummer taking up residence in my skull.
The whiskey from last night had exacted its revenge, pounding behind my temples with vicious tenacity.
Worse than the hangover was the lingering heat between my thighs, a reminder of dreams filled with Oktober’s hands, his mouth, his body pressed against mine.
Dreams that felt far too real and left me aching in ways that had nothing to do with alcohol.
“Fuuuuck,” I groaned, rolling onto my side and pulling the pillow over my head. The sheets twisted around my legs felt too warm, too confining. I kicked them away and lay spread-eagle on the mattress, willing my heart to slow its frantic rhythm.
In my dreams, Oktober hadn’t stopped at a kiss. His hands had roamed my body freely, leaving trails of fire across my skin. He’d kissed my breasts, my belly, my pussy… I’d woken twice during the night, disoriented and throbbing with need, only to fall back into the same dream.
I forced myself to sit up, wincing at the protest from my head. Water. Aspirin. Coffee. In that order.
I fumbled through my toiletry bag for pain relievers, swallowed them with water, then set about the ritual of making coffee. I leaned against the counter, eyes closed, letting the rich aroma slowly replace the sour taste in my mouth.
Cup in hand, I pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the porch.
Morning had transformed the lake into a mirror, reflecting the cloudless blue sky and surrounding pines in perfect symmetry.
The air smelled clean, the morning dew glistening on leaves and spiderwebs in the trees around me.
I sank into the Adirondack chair on the deck and drew my knees to my chest, cradling the coffee mug between my palms.
Last night felt dreamlike. Had I really kissed Oktober? Had he really held me like I was something precious? I touched my lower lip, remembering the gentle scrape of his beard, the heat of his mouth, the surprising softness of his lips and the erotic slide of his tongue against mine.
And I’d initiated it. Both times. The memory sent a flush crawling up my neck.
What was I doing? I’d known the man for all of three days!
He was an ex-con biker with tattoos, the sexiest German accent, and probably women all over the place.
I was a reading specialist with more education than good sense and a freshly broken heart.
We had nothing in common except that we both seemed to have a healthy dose of lust when it came to each other.
I tried to rationalize it as a rebound attraction.
My body seeking validation after Eric’s betrayal.
A natural response to Oktober’s obvious masculine appeal and the flattery of his attention.
But that explanation felt hollow, insufficient to explain the way my skin tingled if he even looked at me with that wicked grin on his face.
A distinctive rumble broke the morning stillness. The sound grew louder, echoing across the lake until a motorcycle appeared around the bend in the access road. My mouth went dry as he pulled up to my cabin and cut the engine.
Oktober dismounted in one fluid motion, a plastic bag in his free hand.
His faded jeans hugged muscular thighs, and his black T-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders, revealing the edges of tattoos peeking from beneath the short sleeves.
His blond hair was loose today, falling to his shoulders in waves that caught the sunlight.
He moved with the confidence of a man entirely comfortable in his own skin.
“Guten Morgen, K?tzchen,” he called, climbing the porch steps with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I thought you might need this.”
“You called me that before.” I loved the way he said the phrase in that German accent of his. “What does it mean?”
He grinned. “Kitten.”
He set a cardboard cup holder on the small table between our chairs. The rich scent of fresh coffee, far better than what I had, wafted toward me. Beside it, he placed the paper bag, which released the unmistakable aroma of warm donuts.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I said, reaching for the coffee. Our fingers brushed, sending a jolt through my system that had nothing to do with caffeine. When I glanced up at him, he just smiled, either not affected like I had been or better at concealing his emotions.
“Hangover, little Mia?” he asked, settling into the chair beside mine, a wide grin on his face. His knee occasionally bumped against mine as he arranged himself, each contact sending small shocks through my nervous system.
“Is it that obvious?” I managed a small smile.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Your eyes. They have that particular squint that comes from too much whiskey and not enough sleep.” He opened the paper bag and offered it to me. “Apfelstrudel. Best cure for a morning after.”
I peered inside at a pastry that looked homemade rather than store-bought. “You bake?”
“Ada bakes. I steal.” His grin was unapologetic. “Eat. It helps.”
The pastry was still warm, flaky layers giving way to cinnamon-spiced apples. I closed my eyes as I took the first bite, unable to suppress a small moan of appreciation. When I opened them, Oktober was watching me with an intensity that had heat pooling low in my belly.
“Good?” he asked, his voice lower than before.
I nodded as I smiled, swallowing hard. “Very.”
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the occasional birdsong and lap of water against the shore the only sounds.
I found myself studying his profile. The strong line of his jaw beneath the beard, the slight bump in his nose that suggested it had been broken at least once, all things completely opposite of Eric.
Eric was what one would term a “fine, upstanding citizen of these here United States of America.”
“I’ve been thinking about your situation, little Mia,” he said finally, turning to face me. “With your ex.”
I tensed slightly. “Have you?”
“Ja.” He brushed pastry crumbs from his hands. “He didn’t deserve you if he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Simple as that.”
His bluntness startled a laugh from me. “That’s… direct.”
“Am I wrong?” One eyebrow quirked up, challenging me. And why did I find that slight accent sexy as hell?
“No,” I admitted. “You’re not wrong.”
“The way I see it,” he continued, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “he did you a favor. Showed his true colors before you wasted more time. Better to know now than later, ja?”
I considered this. “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”
“The right way.” His certainty was oddly comforting. “Some men are just schwachkopfe. Idiots. Weak in the head and the spine.”
Oktober’s eyes, startlingly blue against his tanned skin, held mine steadily. “I think we could help each other, you and I.”
“Help each other?” I repeated, my heart suddenly hammering against my ribs.
“Ja.” He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering against my cheek. “You need to… how do you say it… cleanse your palate after that betrayal. And I” -- he paused, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips -- “I find myself very attracted to you, Mia.”
I should have been offended. Should have interpreted his words as a crude proposition. Instead, I felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
“No strings,” he continued, his voice a rumble that seemed to vibrate through me. “Just pleasure. For the time we have here. And only with each other.” He smiled, but the slight crease between his brows said he might not have intended to add the last part.
The rational part of my brain screamed caution.
This man was nothing like anyone I’d ever been with.
He lived in a world I didn’t understand.
In three days, we’d go back to our separate lives in Nashville.
But my body had already decided. I felt it in the way my skin prickled with awareness, in the heavy throb between my thighs, in the way my breath caught as his thumb traced the curve of my lower lip.
“Yes,” I said, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice. “I think I’d like that.”
Oktober’s eyes darkened, and the slow smile that spread across his face made my clit throb low and insistent. He stood, offering me his hand.
“Then let’s not waste another minute, K?tzchen.”
I took his outstretched hand. The simple contact sent electricity arcing up my arm. Oktober pulled me gently to my feet. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. We don’t even have to have sex if you’d prefer not to. But I want to spend time with you. And I want to touch you.”
I nodded my head, way too eager for my way of thinking, but I couldn’t help myself. I was eager for this. “You promise you’ll make me come?” In another situation I’d be mortified at my directness, but by God, if I was doing this, I was going to do it right.
Instead of looking amused, Oktober looked almost… angry. “He didn’t see to your pleasure, K?tzchen?”
I hesitated, really looking at him. “Are you… Did I say something wrong?”
He blinked, jerking back slightly. “What? Nein! Eh… no, little Mia. You did not. Tell me, though. Did your ex not make you come during sex?”
“Sex was always pleasant, but never earth shattering. I wouldn’t say he didn’t make me come, just that I’m not the most easily… aroused. Type. Person.” God, could I sound more like a dork?
“You give me a chance, K?tzchen. I’ll give you as much pleasure as you can stand. Then push you a little further.”
His words sent a shiver through me, igniting a primal and hungry energy inside me I didn’t want to fight. I grabbed his shirt, pulling him toward me until our bodies pressed together. “Prove it,” I whispered against his lips.