Chapter 6
SOREN
The snow hadn’t let up once all day. By nightfall it had stacked in drifts that reached the windowsills, and the wind had found its voice again—long, low, and mean.
Soren wiped her sleeve across her forehead and crouched by the open access panel behind the lodge’s laundry room.
The boiler was older than she’d thought, an iron monster that hissed and sputtered every time she coaxed it back to life.
What was supposed to have been a quick patch job had turned into a full replacement of valves and half the wiring.
“Guess I’m camping here for a while,” she muttered, tightening a bolt.
Mr. Ellis had agreed. “No sense driving back to your cabin in this mess,” he’d said. “You’ll have to stay a night or two—maybe three if this storm keeps up. I’ll give you one of the guest rooms on the ground floor.”
So she’d moved her truck tools inside, stacked her gloves and thermos on the workbench, and told herself it was fine.
The lodge was warm again, the lights steady.
And if the thought of Nia South sleeping somewhere upstairs kept flickering through her mind like a restless flame—well, that was just leftover adrenaline.
The wrench slipped, scraping her knuckle. “Ow. Damn it.”
She shook her hand, blew on the sting, and went back to work. Metal clanked, water hissed. Time slid by unnoticed, marked only by the slow cooling of her coffee and the way the wind rattled the shutters every few minutes.
Around ten, she heard footsteps in the hall. Soft, measured, not the heavy stride of Mr. Ellis or the scuff of the young desk clerk. She smiled to herself before she even looked up.
When Nia appeared in the doorway, Soren had to fight not to grin outright.
The doctor looked unfairly composed for someone trapped by a storm—dark hair pinned neatly again, a cream sweater that was loose over her breasts but made them look amazing, posture straight enough to shame a ruler.
Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, though, and her eyes found Soren immediately.
“Working late,” Nia said, voice smooth but quieter than usual.
“Boiler’s stubborn,” Soren replied, standing and brushing her hands on her jeans. “You, on the other hand, don’t strike me as the midnight maintenance type.”
“I couldn’t sleep.” Nia stepped farther into the room, gaze flicking over the exposed pipes and wires. “The heat came back, but the radiators still knock. I thought I’d check.”
Soren leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “You could’ve called the front desk. Instead you came down here yourself.”
“That’s because I’m a very thorough person,” Nia said evenly.
Soren arched a brow. “Or maybe because you knew I’d still be here.”
A faint blush touched Nia’s throat, quickly hidden by the turn of her head. “That’s an assumption.”
“Sure is.” Soren’s grin softened. “But I’m pretty good at reading people, remember?”
Nia huffed, the ghost of a laugh breaking through her composure. “You’re insufferable.”
“Most people call it charming.”
“Most people are wrong.”
Soren chuckled, the sound low in her chest. “You always this mean to the help?”
Nia’s gaze snapped back to hers. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Turn everything into a joke.”
The challenge in her tone tugged something inside Soren. She stepped closer, just enough that she could smell the floral scent of Nia. “Can’t help it,” she said quietly. “You make me nervous.”
That earned a startled blink. “I do not.”
“You do.” Soren smiled, not teasing this time. “You walk in looking like the most beautiful woman in the world, and I’m standing here covered in grease. Of course I’m nervous.”
Nia’s lips parted, a retort half-formed, but it never came. For a long moment they just stood there, the hum of the pipes filling the silence.
“You’re staying here now?” she asked finally, gesturing toward the hall.
“Ellis figured it’s safer than me driving home every night. Said he’d comp me a room until the storm breaks.”
“I see.”
The words were neutral, but her eyes betrayed her—something quick and conflicted flickering behind the calm.
Soren watched her a moment longer, then nodded toward the repaired panel. “Heat’s good now. Shouldn’t knock anymore.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, Doc.”
Nia turned toward the door, pausing halfway. “Try to get some sleep.”
“You too,” Soren said, voice softer now.
She waited until Nia’s footsteps faded down the corridor before she let out a long breath and ran a hand through her hair.
Not a coincidence.
Not even close.
Soren grinned to herself, shaking her head as she turned back to her tools. “Guess this job just got a whole lot more interesting.”
Steam curled out from the bathroom in lazy ribbons as Soren toweled off, the quiet hum of the storm pressing close around the lodge. The hot shower had done its job—her muscles had finally unclenched after a day of battling frozen pipes—but her head was still buzzing.
No matter how she tried to settle, her mind kept circling back to Nia.
That last look in the hallway. The careful mask she’d put back on. The way she’d stood too close before walking away.
Soren raked a hand through her damp hair, let out a low breath. “Stop it,” she muttered. “You’re not a teenager.”
She was halfway to finding something to wear when there was a knock at the door—soft, quick, uncertain. Not the kind of knock that belonged to Mr. Ellis or anyone on staff.
Soren froze, heartbeat suddenly loud in her ears.
When she opened the door, Nia stood there.
The hallway light haloed her, gold against the storm-gray behind.
She wore an oversized cream sweater and leggings, hair loose and slightly mussed, eyes shadowed from lack of sleep.
She looked so unlike the polished surgeon from the bar, but also so mind blowingly beautiful, that for a moment, Soren couldn’t find words.
“Nia,” she said finally, voice rough from surprise.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Nia said, a little too fast. Her fingers twisted the hem of her sweater, betraying nerves. “The… radiator’s knocking again.”
Soren’s mouth tugged into a grin she couldn’t stop. “Pretty sure it’s not.”
Nia’s sigh was half frustration, half surrender. “Fine. It’s not.” She hesitated, voice dropping. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
Something in Soren’s chest tightened. She stepped back, holding the door wider. “Then don’t be.”
Nia crossed the threshold, careful, deliberate, like she was walking into dangerous territory and knew it. The scent of cold air and her perfume followed her inside. Soren closed the door gently behind her, the soft click sealing the world out.
The room was still warm from the shower, air thick with steam and cedar. Nia’s gaze flicked to the damp towel knotted around Soren’s hips, then back up and over Soren’s exposed breasts, her throat working as she swallowed.
“You cleaned up,” she said, voice steady but eyes giving her away.
“Finished for the night,” Soren murmured. “Wasn’t expecting company.”
“I wasn’t planning to come.”
“Glad you did.”
That earned her a faint laugh—quiet, self-conscious. “You always say the right thing.”
“I doubt that,” Soren said, moving a little closer. “You just look like someone who hasn’t heard something honest in a while.”
Nia’s eyes flicked up, green and bright even in the dim light. “And what would that be?”
“That I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night.”
The air between them shifted. The wind outside rattled the windows, but inside the silence felt hot and alive.
Nia shook her head, barely. “This is a mistake.”
“Maybe,” Soren said, voice low. “Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
When she took another step forward, Nia didn’t retreat. Her breath hitched. Her pulse fluttered visibly at her throat.
Soren lifted a hand, brushed her thumb along Nia’s jaw, feeling the tremor that ran through her. “You came here for something,” she said softly. “Just tell me what it is.”
Nia’s eyes closed for a heartbeat, then opened again—brighter, braver. “You.”
The word was barely sound.
Soren’s control cracked like ice underfoot. She leaned in, close enough that her breath mingled with Nia’s, close enough to taste the faint sweetness of her exhale. “Say it again.”
Nia’s lips parted. “You.”
The kettle on the counter clicked as it cooled, the only sound in the room besides the rush of their breathing. Soren’s hand slid to Nia’s hip, fingers brushing the edge of soft fabric.
Nia shivered, stepping closer until there was no space left to hide in.
Whatever careful restraint either of them had left broke.
Soren kissed her—slow at first, then deep, fierce, and certain. Nia’s hands found her shoulders, pulling her closer, and the towel at Soren’s hips loosened under their movements. The storm outside howled, but neither of them heard it.
?n seconds, Soren pulled Nia’s clothes off and dropped her own towel, desperate to get to her again.
Something about Nia’s body was so addictive to her.
Soren pushed her back against the wall, kissing her fiercely. The press of Nia’s naked body against her own felt incredible.
Nia’s breath was coming in gasps and she was breathing little moans of desire.
“Please,” she gasped.
“Say the words, Doc,” Soren whispered in her ear before biting her shoulder.
Nia yelped, “Please, fuck me,” she murmured.
Soren didn’t need asking twice. She dropped to her knees immediately taking Nia’s hot wet sex in her mouth, licking and sucking and inhaling the scent of her arousal.
Nia moaned loudly, her legs parting as Soren gripped her hips tightly, devouring the delicious taste of her pussy as though it was her last meal.
Soren took a breath. “Sit on my face,” she said. “I want you to ride my face til you come.”
She wondered for a second if the request might be too much but the taste of Nia was driving her wild and she had this hope that Nia might squirt in her mouth when she came.
She raised an eyebrow happily as Nia nodded and Soren lay herself down on her back on the carpeted floor.
She watched the lovely elegance of Nia’s body as Nia moved cautiously to straddle her head, but Soren didn’t want caution.
“Don’t be careful with me, “ Soren growled. “I want you to ride my face as hard and fast as you can until you come in my mouth and I drown in you.”
Nia laughed, nervously and Soren gripped hold of her hips and pulled her roughly down until she was tight against her face.
Soren eagerly moved with her tongue, licking hungrily, pressing her tongue inside Nia, desperate to taste every single part of her.
“Grind on my face,” she murmured into Nia’s pussy and she felt Nia press down tighter and heard her moans. Nia’s pussy was so deliciously wet, she felt like she could lick it forever.
Soren reached her right hand between her own legs sliding through her own wetness, losing herself by burying her face in Nia’s soaking pussy.
Soren felt Nia beginning to lose control and grind into her mouth. She rubbed her own clitoris harder and when Nia came and squirted hard into her mouth, nearly choking her as she swallowed hard, Soren’s own climax crashed through her body flooding her with heat.
It felt like the best orgasm she had ever had.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, Nia moved until she was lying along Soren’s body, their foreheads pressed together.
“Now what, Doc?” Soren murmured.
Nia’s answer came quiet but sure. “Now nobody leaves this time.”