Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
TIMBER
As we return to Kane’s house, I try to play it cool, like I’m not a bundle of nerves and excitement every time the ATV bumps and our shoulders brush. I’m a woman who started the day sifting sand for clams and now I’m sifting through unexpected emotions.
My mind races, considering the possibilities. What if this attraction is just a fleeting moment, another dead-end like the last relationship that left me shattered? But then I glance at Kane, at the easy confidence in his smile, and the affection in his eyes, and my doubts dissolve.
The way he gently nudges me when our shoulders touch, the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world—it’s all so new and exhilarating. I think about what I want, and it only takes one second to decide. I want him.
“We’re here,” Kane announces as he kills the engine, his voice breaking through my swirling thoughts.
“That was fast,” I manage, attempting a casualness I can't quite muster. I hop off the ATV with what I hope is the grace of a gazelle but is probably more akin to a newborn calf.
He rounds the ATV and offers his outstretched palm. It’s both sweet and completely nerve-wracking. I grip and squeeze so tightly that he flinches. Touch his hand, Timber, don’t clutch it like a lifeline.
He leads me inside. The house is normally cozy and familiar, but tonight it’s charged with a new, crackling energy. He drops my hand and heads into the kitchen, flipping on a light. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks, as if this were just any normal evening and not the prelude to my deep internal debate about whether I’m ready to take our relationship to the next level.
“Water’s fine,” I say, reminding myself to hydrate. Hydration is key when your emotions are doing the hundred-yard dash.
As he hands me the glass, our fingers brush, sending a shiver up my arm. I laugh, a nervous sound. “Look at me, a jittery mess. You’d think I’d never been alone with a man before.”
Kane’s steps closer, his nearness sending another wave of shivers through me. “Hey, there’s no pressure for us to do anything. Whatever happens is because we want it for ourselves, but it’s okay if we just hang out and watch TV, too.”
He’s giving me an out or perhaps taking one for himself.
I meet his gaze. The weight of my decision anchors me in place. “I know,” I reply. “But I want ... this. With you.”
Kane’s eyes search mine, looking for any hint of uncertainty. Finding none, he sets our glasses on the counter and gently cups my face in his hands. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll take this moment, this night, and make it ours.”
The straightforwardness of his words, the sincerity in his voice, makes it so easy to lean in, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet in a kiss that starts slowly but grows more urgent, more insistent.
As we pull apart, breathless, Kane looks pleased. “So much for taking things slow, huh?”
I laugh, the sound bubbling up freely, mixed with newfound excitement and relief. “Well, we have endless daylight—why waste it?”
“Exactly my thoughts.” His hand finds mine, and he leads me down the hallway. Together, we walk into a night that seems boundless, ready to explore our connection without doubt or expectation.
Tonight, we simply are, and that is more than enough.
As we head to the bedroom, a mix of excitement and anxiety surges through me.
This is it. The moment when everything changes. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts—what if I'm not enough? What if this ruins everything? But his hand in mine is a steadying force, an assurance that we're in this together.
In the bedroom, we stand hesitantly, the reality of where we are and what we’re about to share sinking in. Then, with a shared breath, we move closer. Each step heightens my awareness of what’s about to happen. My pulse is in my throat, the anticipation mingling with fear. The idea of being naked in front of him, of seeing him, is both thrilling and terrifying.
“Shower first?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Together?”
I hesitate, my mind flashing to every insecurity I’ve ever had about my body. But then I see the look in his eyes—earnest, caring, filled with nothing but admiration. I nod. “It saves water.”
We walk to the bathroom, where he turns on the shower and then returns to me. His fingers brush the hem of my shirt, a silent question. I nod again, my chest pounding.
As he gently unbuttons my shirt, a fleeting moment of vulnerability tightens in my chest. This is really happening. I'm about to be completely exposed to him.
He eases the shirt from my body and discards it. The way he looks at me tells me he sees me—all of me—and he’s nowhere near disappointed. He traces the lace of my bra. It’s a moment where I silently congratulate myself for not choosing a practical one.
“You’re perfect,” he whispers, not just with his lips but with his eyes, and it bolsters my courage.
Emboldened by his acceptance, my hands find their way to his shirt, fingers trembling slightly as I undo each button. With every inch of skin revealed, I take him in, the sight of him both familiar and thrillingly new. The contours of his muscles, the softness of his skin, the smattering of hair that I touch with eager fingers. His chest rises and falls more sharply with each piece of clothing that falls to the floor.
Kane’s hands shift from tracing the delicate lace to my jeans. The button gives way easily, and as he slides the zipper, his fingers graze my skin, sparking tiny fires wherever they touch.
For a brief instant, I experience a wave of shyness, almost consumed by the intense intimacy of the moment. But then I catch the look in his eyes—open, honest, admiring—and any insecurity melts away.
This is it. I’m really going through with this. It's going to change everything, and that's okay. With a shared understanding, my hands now move to his belt, unfastening it with quiet clicks that sound loud in the hushed air of the room. His jeans are next, and as I pull them down, there’s a change in the atmosphere, a profound sense of anticipation mixed with trust.
We face each other, only our underwear separating us. Slowly, with deliberate movements, we shed these final barriers. The fabric slides down our legs, pooling at our feet, leaving us bare and exposed in the most intimate way.
Kane reaches for me, his hands framing my face, pulling me into a kiss. His lips move against mine with a passion that’s controlled yet desperate, a contradiction that perfectly captures the complexity of our emotions.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, his breath mingling with mine, his body radiating heat that draws me in even more.
In response, I press closer, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Never been more certain,” I say. The warmth of his presence caresses my skin before his lips meet mine once more.
Together, we step into the shower, letting the warm water sluice over us. It seems to wash away any remaining hesitations. The steam rises around us, a misty veil that blurs the edges of reality, giving the moment a timeless quality.
Kane’s hands explore the lines and contours of my body. His fingers trace the path of the water, down my shoulders, over my collarbones, pausing with a soft reverence at the curve of my waist. Every touch sends shivers through me, creating an intense heat that moves through my body.
My own hands are not idle. They roam across the broad expanse of his back, tracing the muscle and sinew beneath his skin. The slick surface offers no resistance, allowing my hands to glide easily, exploring him for the first time. Our movements are slow, almost meditative, as we discover each other beneath the warm cascade.
Each caress, each touch, builds the heat between us. His fingers slide lower, tracing the curve of my hips, sending jolts of electricity through my body. The intensity in his touch mirrors my own desire.
My breaths come quicker, the air thick with the steam and the heady mix of our anticipation.
His lips find the sensitive spot on my neck, and I gasp, my hands clutching at him, pulling him closer. The water streams down, but all I can feel is the fire he's igniting within me. It’s a fire that consumes every part of me, leaving no room for doubt or fear, only the overwhelming sensation of him.
Kane’s hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as he kisses me deeply. It’s a kiss that speaks of passion, of the connection we’ve always shared but are only now fully realizing. His touch is everywhere, grounding me and setting me ablaze at the same time.
My hands move to his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat under my palms anchors me. As our bodies press together, skin to skin, the reality of this moment hits me again with full force. This is real. This is happening. And it’s everything I've ever wanted.
Together, we move under the warm spray, our hands and lips exploring, discovering, claiming. Every touch, every kiss, is a new revelation, a new spark that adds to the inferno between us. We are lost in each other, in the sensations, in the undeniable attraction that binds us.
Kane pulls me closer. The sound of our breathing is heavy and mingles with the rush of water.
“Timber.” His voice is barely audible above the shower’s spray, yet every syllable vibrates through me. “This is everything.”
I nod, unable to form words, my chest swelling with a mixture of joy and an overwhelming sense of belonging. In the water, we are not just washing away the sand and salt of the day, but also any barriers that might have once stood between us .
As we continue to explore, kiss, and hold one another, the world outside fades to nothing. Here, there is only us, and in this moment, we are infinite.
Suddenly, the water shifts from hot to shockingly cold. I let out a startled laugh, stepping back from the spray. “I don’t think we saved any water,” I joke, shivering slightly as Kane reaches out to shut the taps.
He pulls me against him, his touch igniting a fire that makes the cold seem irrelevant. “To hell with it,” he says, his voice low and husky.
We leave the shower, our laughter trailing behind us as we grab towels. Wrapped in the plush fabric—and each other’s heat—we pad over to the bedroom. Despite the cool air, all that registers is the fire racing through my veins, a blaze stoked by every touch from Kane.
Kane drops his towel, and I take in his magnificence. Everything about him is chiseled and hard. My knees go weak just looking at him. With a gentle tug, my towel falls to the floor.
He steps closer, the intensity in his eyes mirroring the rapid pulse thrumming through my veins. His hands find my waist, and he lifts me effortlessly. The world tilts for a breathless moment, and then I’m on the bed beneath him, the softness of the duvet a stark contrast to the firmness of him.
His eyes search mine, seeking confirmation, finding the answer in my eager response as I pull him closer. “I can’t believe we’re finally here,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he breathes out, the word more a vow than a simple affirmation as his lips meet mine.