Chapter Four
Rose
I feel like I'm coming back to life, standing here in the warmth. I was so cold that, for a little while there, I swear it made me dumb — even when these two men miraculously showed up out of nowhere, all I could think was oh .
The man standing in front of me takes a shirt from the top of the pile and holds it up, looking from me to the shirt and back. I feel dwarfed standing next to him, because he's easily six feet tall .
Then I look him over for a moment, really seeing him for the first time, and wow . He's got dark hair and piercing blue eyes, a square jaw with a dusting of stubble, and even though he's wearing a few layers right now, I can tell he's completely ripped .
I swallow and look away, glancing toward the other man, the one with lighter hair and green eyes the color of moss, and I let my eyes roam over him for a minute .
And I realize that he's also insanely hot, his muscles bulging through the sweater and jacket he's wearing .
Am I hallucinating? I wonder. Maybe I'm still back in the truck and my brain has made up this nice story about being saved by two sexy woodsmen .
"Can you get your own shirt off?" the man in front of me asks, his voice a quiet rumble .
I swallow and nod, embarrassed because I think he's offering to do it for me if I can't. If I weren't still freezing cold I'd blush, but that might take an act of God right now .
I'm about to turn around to take my shirt off, but then I notice the way he's looking at me, something hungry and wild glinting in his eyes .
No one's ever looked at me that way. Or, I should say: no one who wasn't a pervert twice my age has ever looked at me that way. Definitely not anyone like this man .
Maybe it's because I almost just died and I'm feeling brave, but I slowly grab the hem of my Sally's American Diner t-shirt in both hands, my fingers still cold and stiff, and lift it over my head .
But I'm still so cold that it's hard to move, and suddenly, I'm stuck, my head inside the shirt. I wriggle a little, incredibly aware of what a dork I look like, stuck inside this shirt .
Then warm fingers brush over my body, pulling at the hem, and lifting my shirt over my head.
He tosses the shirt onto a chair and hands me the new one, but he's not looking at my eyes.
He's staring at my half-naked body in a way that makes something warm and heated squirm through me, and I lower my eyes .
There's a huge lump in his pants. Huge . For a moment, I just stare at it, because I didn't know penises came that big .
Not that I'm very experienced. Not that I have any experience at all, honestly, unless you count the time that Chad Taylor got a boner during the slow dance at my junior prom. I don't .
But the way he's looking at me combined with that thing not to mention my near-death experience is making me a little crazy. A little more daring than I usually am .
I reach behind myself and unhook my bra. It's wet too, after all, and there's no sense in wearing wet undergarments, right ?
The cabin is dead quiet, and as I slip the straps over my shoulders, I realize that the other man, the one building the fire, is watching me too. For a moment, I panic, wondering what the hell I'm doing , but then my bra's off and I'm tossing it after my shirt .
My nipples are hard as rocks — I'm literally freezing, after all — made harder by the attention they're blatantly getting right now, and in an embarrassed rush I grab the shirt and pull it on.
It's about five sizes too big and goes almost down to my knees, but I button it slowly, my fingers still not fully cooperating .
The other guy goes back to the fire, but the dark-haired man is still watching me fumble to close this shirt .
"Do you need some help?" he offers quietly .
I let my hands drop and just nod. He reaches out and does the buttons up, his fingers just barely brushing the bare skin of my stomach, coming millimeters from my nipples. I have to fight the urge to step forward so he does touch me, but I think I'm regaining some sanity .
Hypothermia psychosis , I think. Even if I've never heard of it, it probably exists, right ?
I get my jeans off without much fuss — this shirt is basically a dress. The sweatpants they lend me are also much, much too big, but I manage to secure them well enough with the drawstring .
Meanwhile, there's a roaring fire in the fireplace, and the dark-haired man leads me to a couch. The lighter-haired one has an enormous, fake-fur throw, and he sits me down on the couch, still feeling a little stiff from the cold, and then sits next to me .
"Feeling better?" he asks gently .
I swallow, nodding. The other man sits on my other side. Suddenly I'm sandwiched, in the middle of two of the most excruciatingly attractive, sexiest men I've ever seen in my life, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere .
"Yeah," I say. "Thanks for finding me ."
He smiles, an easy, friendly smile. Something stirs in my chest, and I look down, smiling at the floor .
"We never did introduce ourselves," he says. "I'm Logan, and Sir Silence over there is Knox ."
"Hi, Logan and Knox," I say, because I'm not quite sure what else to say. "Thanks for the rescue ."
"Absolutely," says Logan. "But now that you're okay I've gotta ask — what the hell were you doing out there ?"