Chapter 2
TWO
HAYES
The moment I leave Elise sitting by the fire, every muscle in my body screams in protest.
Get back there , my heart seems to pulse in my ears. Get back there and kiss her until neither of you can breathe.
But I don’t. I can’t. Even if she’s a temptation so strong, I want nothing more than to possess her. Claim her.
Make her mine, body and soul.
“Get a fucking grip,” I mutter to myself, grabbing the ax from the hook on my porch and striding toward the chopping block. “Man the fuck up.”
I chop and chop. With each sling of the ax, I try to burn through the desire coursing through my body.
Instead I keep seeing her as I left there. My blanket wrapped around her shapely full figure. Cheeks flushed from the fire’s warmth. Wavy dirty blonde hair a tangle of waves around her face.
And her eyes. Those fucking insane violet blue eyes staring at me as if she can see inside of me. Igniting an inferno of desire unlike any I’ve ever experienced and fueling it with lighter fluid.
With a final chop, the last log splinters. I lower my arms. Gasping for breath, I stare through the snow at the light in my window. Waiting for the haze to clear from my brain.
As if it’s possible.
It should be possible, damn it.
I shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.
She’s off-limits. Not just because she’s the daughter of my best friend.
She’s also the daughter of the man I owe my life. The man who once dragged me out of a burning Humvee and carried me to safety when we were deployed.
I wouldn’t be here without John. I should be able to look at his daughter without wanting to bury myself inside of her.
She’s his daughter.
His daughter.
The girl I once taught how to tie a fishing lure.
The girl who is now a grown woman. No longer a wide-eyed innocent. Now a temptress. All curves and confidence and something that calls to every instinct in me.
It’s only because it’s been so long since I had a woman. Dry spells are one of the casualties of living in the bush. So, I only want her because it’s a natural bodily response to seeing a beautiful woman after too long of going without.
Maybe if I tell myself that enough times, it’ll stick.
My own teeth start to chatter, and I grab my things and turn back inside. It won’t do me any good to die of exposure now. I promised John I’d keep his daughter safe.
His daughter. John’s daughter. That’s how I have to keep seeing her.
Back inside, I avoid looking at her by busing myself with checking the fire. I add another log and adjust the damper. The busier I keep, the less likely I am to think about her.
Even if I can practically feel her gaze burning on my back.
Even if her sweet, vanilla-like smell already seems to cling to me like a second skin.
“You live here year-round?” She asks.
Not wanting to be rude, I glance over my shoulder. She’s pulled the blanket tighter, and her legs are curled beneath her. Her bare calves peeking out from beneath the fabric.
My jaw tightens.
I grunt. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
I shake my head, ignoring the way my cock is pressing against my jeans. “I like the quiet.”
She nods slowly, her gaze steady on me. “What do you do out here?”
“Plenty of stuff.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Such as?”
Hell. There’s no way I’m going to be able to ignore her. The cabin only has two rooms and a bathroom. As long as she’s here, I’m going to be forced to be around her. Forced to talk to her.
I might as well make myself comfortable. Or, as comfortable I can be with a throbbing dick.
With a sigh, I settle into the chair across from her, stretching my legs out. “I guide tourists in the summer. Hunting, fishing, hiking. In the winter, I work on the cabin. Take care of the land.”
“That sounds… peaceful.”
“It is.” That was the point of settling here after I completed my service.
Her head tilts slightly, and I can see the wheels turning. John always said Elise was sharp as a tack.
“And you like the peace?” she asks
“I do.”
She smiles, slow and genuine. Sweet. It hits me square in the chest.
“Tell me more,” she says.
“What do you want to know.”
“Everything.” She rubs her lips together, and it’s all I can do not to reach out and stroke my thumb over that full bottom lip of hers. “I’ve always been fascinated. I want to know everything.”
I frown. “About what?”
“You. What you’ve been up to all these years. How you spend your time in the peace of your wilderness.” That eyebrow of hers shoots up again. “How you keep yourself… satisfied.”
I should shut down this conversation. Innocent as it seems, we’re walking a fine line.
But the way she’s looking at me—like what I have to say matters—makes it impossible to deny her.
Hell, I’d probably confess all my sins to her right here and now if she asked me.
I tell her about the tours I guide. I tell her the way the wilderness changes with the seasons. I tell her about building the cabin with my own two hands, hauling logs and supplies myself.
I tell her about the solitude and the freedom that comes from being content with your own company.
And she listens. Really listens.
I ask questions too.
She tells me about her doctorate in English literature. Her plans to teach in the fall. Her dreams of traveling and seeing the world.
As she talks about all the places she wants to go, a fire burns bright in her eyes. Drawing me in like a moth to flame.
“I always thought my dad exaggerated about Alaska,” she says with a laugh. “But he was right. It’s breathtaking. Terrifying too, apparently.”
Hearing her mention John sends a jolt through me. It’s a stark reminder of who she is and who she can never be.
She’s his daughter.
She can never be mine.
Swallowing hard, I say nothing. I stare at the fireplace, determined not to look at her until I can see her as off limits.
With a sigh, she rises to her feet. Blanket trailing behind her, she strides toward the window. I can’t resist glancing up as she turns to look back over her shoulder at me.
The blanket tangles around her feet, and she stumbles forward.
I’m out of my chair and across the room in a blink, catching her against me.
She gasps, bracing her hands against my chest.
Her body—soft, warm, and so damn perfect—molds against mine. I tighten my grip on her waist. I hold her steady, long after she’s on her own two feet.
I should let go. I need to let go. But I don’t.
I can’t.
She looks up at me, eyes wide, lips parted. The firelight glows against her skin, highlighting the natural blush in her cheeks.
Desire slams through me. Hot. Fierce.
I’m gone the second she sways closer.
I lose the last shred of my control.
I crush my mouth to hers. She gasps into my mouth even as her hands slide up my chest to grip hold of me and pull me closer. One of my hands tangles in her hair. The other wraps around her waist, pulling her closer.
Nestling my aching cock against her sweet curves.
My lips part, urging hers open. She willingly complies, melting into me with a soft keen that is a dart to my soul.
Her fingers curl into me, practically biting my skin through the fabric of my shirt.
I deepen the kiss, sliding my hand from her waist to her back, feeling the heat of her through the blanket. She arches against me, her body supple and eager.
I groan into her mouth. It’s a sound so low, so raspy, it’s more like a growl.
I angle my head, wanting to taste even more of her. Slipping my tongue past her lips to taste her—really taste her.
She’s every bit as sweet and intoxicating as I could have imagined.
My hands roam lower, memorizing the curve of her hip and ass.
Every soft sigh she makes drives me higher, a rush of heat and hunger surging through me.
I want to pull her to the ground in front of the fireplace right now. I want to fuck her in every way I can, until neither of us remembers where she ends and I begin.
I want her. So badly I hurt.
Then John’s face flashes into my head.
With a tortured moan, I tear my mouth from hers, breathing hard. I press my forehead to hers as I fight for control.
“We can’t.”
She blinks. “What?”
“We can’t do this.”
Elise gapes at me, her breath coming in gaps through lips swollen from mine. Confusion covers her face.
I take a step back. Then another.
I drag a hand over my jaw, cursing under my breath.
“Get some sleep,” I say putting my back to her. “You take the bed. We’ll figure things out in the morning.”
But even with my back to her, I can still feel her.
Even when she closes the door to the bedroom behind her, I can still taste her on my lips.
And I know. I know this isn’t over.
We’ve barely begun.