Chapter 5
Edward
After we’ve cleared the dishes and the cabin is once again tidied just the way I like it, the methodical routine of my dull life resumes.
The wind howls, the fire crackles and remains the only source of light as dusk falls.
But now, the difference is... her.
Penny moves away from the kitchen as I wipe down the bench one final time, the firelight catching the curves of her hips as she bends to adjust her makeshift bed.
I have to look away before my thoughts venture somewhere they shouldn't again.
Her presence fills every corner of this cabin I built to keep the world out, and suddenly the shadows don't feel quite so suffocating.
Within a few hours of her being here, she's turned my sanctuary into something else entirely.
“It’s really coming down now,” Penny says, now moving to peer out the window.
“We’ll be cut off from the town,” I confirm, my gaze fixed on the endless swirl of white snow. “No one’s getting in or out for a while.”
“Well…” she says slowly, arms crossing under her chest in a way that makes it very hard not to look. “Guess we’ll have to make our own fun, then.”
I narrow my eyes. “Fun?”
She shrugs, her lips curling into that infuriatingly playful smile. “What else am I supposed to do, Edward? Sit here, sketching until my pencil breaks? I'm an artist. I get bored easily.”
My fists clench as images I don’t want to picture slam into my head. Penny laughing with some stranger, tossing her golden hair back, letting his hands on her because she needed something to do.
I can't help myself. “So what then? You just… find some random guy to fuck when you’re bored?”
Her eyes widen, then narrow, and that little spark of fire in her ignites. She steps closer, tilting her head like she’s dissecting me. “You think you’re random, Edward Rogers?”
Heat floods my chest. “That’s not what I—”
“I just think it's a good thing you’re so… well-stocked, Edward. And such a gracious host.” She turns, her smile teasing. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh God,” I mutter, bracing myself.
She giggles. “Don’t worry, it’s not about finding yourself in a spiritual desert, though I could definitely turn that into a modern art installation. It’s about being cozy.”
She walks over to the fireplace, holding her hands out to the flames. The light dances over her curves, highlighted by her choice and style of clothes.
She knows exactly what she’s doing. And God help me, it’s working.
I grunt and try to look away as she plops herself right in my armchair, legs tucked under her, her bright sweater riding up just enough to reveal a strip of pale skin.
She’s alluring, distracting, and completely off-limits.
I retreat toward the counter, pouring two fingers of whiskey. Anything to focus on but her.
“Cozy?” I repeat, trying to keep my voice flat, tossing back the alcohol.
“Yeah! I mean, it’s freezing, right? And you’ve got a roaring fire. And I’ve got… a small bed in the corner. Not exactly the most inviting sleeping arrangement.”
She glances at the pull-out in the corner, then back at me, her eyes sparkling.
“Unless… you have another, more inviting option?”
Her suggestion, so innocently phrased, ignites a firestorm in my gut. Another option. There’s only one other option in this cabin. My bed.
And she fucking knows it.
“No,” I say, my voice breaking. “No other options.”
She pouts, a playful, tempting expression that's too fucking sexy. “Are you sure? Because it looks like there’s a perfectly good bed in that other room.”
She gestures vaguely towards the crack in the door that reveals my bedroom.
“That’s my bed,” I state, my jaw clenched. "Can't you read a book if you're so bored?"
I gesture to the bookshelf as my battle-hardened mind screams: Danger. Danger. Proximity. Temptation allure.
“Not now,” she says, her voice dropping to a low, seductive purr that sends a jolt through me. “I just can't stop thinking about that big bed, Edward. And it’s cold out here. And we’re two consenting adults, trapped in a blizzard. Don’t you think… shared warmth might be… prudent?”
My eyes snap to hers. She’s not just hinting. She’s openly, brazenly suggesting.
Consenting adults. Shared warmth.
My pulse thunders against my ribs, a trapped bird desperate for escape.
She’s bored. Stir-crazy from the storm.
That’s all this is. It’s not… me. It can’t be.
But my body betrays me, tightening with a raw, unwanted hunger.
The warmth she mentioned earlier, the one that bloomed in my chest, now flares hot, spreading through my entire body.
My thoughts, usually a tangled mess of trauma and self-loathing, are suddenly crystal clear, focused solely on her lips, the inviting sparkle in her eyes.
The raw, primal desire that has been simmering below the surface ever since she walked into my cabin.
“Penny,” I growl, my voice strained.
Every fiber of my being wants to pull her into my arms, to bury myself in her warmth, to feel something other than the cold despair that has been my constant companion.
It's been so long. So damn long.
But the ghosts of my past scream too. You’re broken. You’ll only hurt her. She deserves better.
She takes a slow step towards me, her eyes never leaving mine. I swear to God she's swaying those wide hips on purpose.
The firelight flickers, making her golden hair shimmer, outlining the tempting swell of her body beneath her clothes.
“Edward,” she murmurs, her voice a soft invitation. “You’re not going to make me sleep out here all alone, are you?”
I clench my fists, digging my nails into my palms. “It’s… it's not a good idea.”
“Why not?” she challenges, taking another step.
I swallow down harder.
She’s close enough now that I can smell her. Christ. Why does she have to smell so good?
“Are you afraid, Edward?”
My head snaps up. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Oh, I think you are,” she whispers, her gaze soft, knowing. “You’re afraid of feeling. You’re afraid of… this.” She gestures between us, a silent acknowledgment of the palpable tension, the undeniable pull.
She’s right. She’s absolutely, terrifyingly right.
The prospect of feeling, of allowing myself to connect, to desire, to live again… it’s terrifying. It threatens to shatter the numb world I inhabit.
She reaches out, her hand gently touching my chest, just over my heart.
“I don't think you're broken, Edward,” she says, her voice a low, soothing murmur that bypasses my logic and goes straight to my soul. “You’re just… wounded. And sometimes, even wounded warriors need a little comfort.”
Her touch, so light, so tender, sends a jolt through me, a current of warmth that spreads from her fingertips, igniting something deep inside.
My cock twitches against my jeans and the raw strength of my desire, the desperate hunger for connection, overwhelms the ingrained fear.
This woman, this vibrant, sunshine-infused creature, is offering me a glimpse of life.
A chance to feel. To be touched. To be… to be… loved.
My hand instinctively reaches out, my fingers tangling in her soft hair, holding her face gently. She's soft. So fucking soft.
Her big blue eyes are wide, luminous, reflecting the firelight, mirroring the desire that’s raging within me.
“Penny,” I breathe, my voice a ragged plea.
“Yes, Edward?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper in return.
I lean in, drawn by an irresistible force, by the scent of her, the warmth of her, the sheer incandescent life she embodies.
My lips brush hers, a tentative, exploratory touch that sends a jolt through my entire being. She tastes of warmth and sweetness, of everything I’ve denied myself for so long.
She sighs, a soft sound, and her hand moves from my chest, wrapping around my neck, pulling me closer. The hesitation, the walls, the fears… they all crumble in that moment.
"Oh, Edward…"
Her lips part, inviting me in, and I deepen the kiss, a hungry, desperate exploration.
It’s not soft. It’s raw, urgent, filled with the pent-up longing of years of isolation, of denial.
My hand slides from her hair, cradling the back of her head, pulling her impossibly closer until our bodies are pressed together, a perfect, exquisite fit.
Her hands explore my back, her fingers digging into my shoulders, and a low groan escapes me. Every nerve ending is alive, tingling with sensation.
I break the kiss, gasping for air, our foreheads resting against each other. Her eyes are flushed, her lips swollen and red, and a fierce, primal surge of possessiveness rips through me.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Penny,” I rasp, my voice thick with emotion.
“Oh, I think I do.” Her hand slides from my neck, her fingers trailing down my chest, igniting a trail of fire. “Because you’re doing it to me too, Edward.”
Her words shatter the last threads of my self-control.
The world outside, the roaring storm, the distant ghosts… they all fade into insignificance.
There is only Penny.
I scoop her up into my arms, aware of the sudden, sharp ache in my back. She wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck, her breath hot against my ear.
“Take me to your bed, Edward,” she whispers, her voice husky with desire. “Show me what you’re really afraid of.”
I carry her towards the bedroom, towards the promise of forbidden warmth, towards a terrifying, exhilarating future I never thought I’d experience again.
The storm howls outside, but inside, a different kind of storm is just beginning.