Chapter 2
Morning light filtered through the wide windows of the cabin and pulled me out of a restless sleep.
I had spent most of the night half-awake, hard and aching, replaying every look she had given me by the fire.
My body still carried the same heavy need when I finally sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
I pulled on a pair of soft sweatpants and nothing else, the cool air of the room doing little to ease the tightness low in my gut.
When I stepped out into the main room the fire had burned down to soft embers, and the smell of coffee was already in the air.
She must have gotten up before me. I heard movement in the kitchen and then she appeared around the corner.
Whatever I had expected, it was not this.
She had changed into a short sleep shirt that barely reached the tops of her thighs and nothing underneath that I could see.
The thin fabric clung to her breasts, the outline of her nipples clear in the cool morning air, and the hem rode high enough that every step showed the soft underside of her ass.
Her hair was loose and slightly messy from sleep, falling around her shoulders.
She stopped when she saw me and a slow smile curved her mouth.
“Morning.” My voice came out rough. “Morning.”
She walked closer, bare feet silent on the wood floor, and the shirt shifted with every movement.
I could not stop my eyes from traveling down her body.
The soft swell of her breasts, the narrow waist, the bare stretch of her thighs.
She knew exactly what she was doing. She stopped a few feet away and tilted her head, watching me look at her.
“I made coffee,” she said softly. “Want some?” I nodded because I did not trust myself to say more.
She turned and walked back into the kitchen, the short shirt lifting just enough with each step to show the lower curve of her ass.
I followed, already hard again inside the sweatpants.
She poured two mugs and handed one to me, standing close enough that the side of her breast brushed my arm.
The contact was light but deliberate. I took the mug and set it on the counter without drinking.
She stayed right there, looking up at me, the sleep shirt doing nothing to hide how stiff her nipples were.
“Did you sleep okay?” she asked. I shook my head once.
“Not really.” Her eyes dropped to the obvious tent in my sweatpants and then lifted again, darker now. “Me either.”
The air between us tightened. I should have stepped back.
I should have put the counter between us.
Instead I stayed where I was and let my eyes move openly over her body.
She did not cover herself. She simply stood there and let me look, her breathing a little faster.
After a moment she turned toward the fridge and opened it, leaning in to look at the contents.
The shirt rode up higher in the back, exposing the bare lower half of her ass completely.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. I wanted to close the distance, press against her from behind, slide my hands under that tiny shirt and feel how soft she was.
She straightened and glanced over her shoulder, catching the way I was staring.
A faint flush colored her cheeks but she did not pull the shirt down.
“I was thinking scrambled eggs and toast,” she said, her voice softer than before.
“Sound good?” I managed a nod. She started pulling ingredients out, moving around the kitchen in that ridiculous little shirt, every motion designed to keep my attention locked on her body.
When she reached up into a high cabinet for a bowl the hem lifted again, and this time I saw the bare seam of her pussy for a split second before the fabric fell back into place.
The sight hit me like a fist. I moved without thinking, stepping in behind her and placing my hands on the counter on either side of her body, caging her there.
She went still. My chest was almost against her back, my hard cock pressing lightly against the soft curve of her ass through the sweatpants.
I could feel the heat of her skin even through the thin shirt.
She did not pull away. Instead she leaned back into me just a fraction, enough to let me know she felt it too.
My mouth was close to her ear. “You’re doing this on purpose.
” Her voice came out a little shaky. “Maybe.” I dropped my head and let my lips brush the side of her neck.
She shivered. The scent of her skin filled my head.
I wanted to bite down, to suck a mark into that soft place, to spin her around and lift her onto the counter.
My hands left the counter and settled on her bare thighs instead, sliding slowly upward under the hem of the shirt.
Her skin was warm and smooth. She made a small sound in her throat when my fingers reached the soft crease where her thighs met her hips.
I stopped there, not going higher yet, just holding her, feeling the way she trembled against me.
“We shouldn’t,” I said, even as my hands squeezed gently.
“I know,” she whispered. Neither of us moved away.
I stayed pressed against her back, my cock hard and heavy between us, my hands under her shirt on her bare skin.
She pushed back against me a little more deliberately this time, rubbing the soft curve of her ass against the thick ridge of my cock.
The friction dragged a low groan out of my chest. I turned my head and pressed my mouth to the side of her neck, open and hot, tasting her skin.
She tilted her head to give me more room.
My hands slid higher, cups the bare cheeks of her ass and squeezing.
She was completely naked under the shirt.
The realization sent another surge of heat through me.
I could have bent her over the counter right then.
I could have pulled the shirt up, spread her open, and buried myself inside her.
The need was so strong it made my arms shake.
Instead I forced myself to step back. The loss of contact felt physical.
She turned around slowly, her back against the counter now, the short shirt still riding high on her thighs.
Her nipples were tight peaks against the thin fabric.
Her eyes were dark and glassy. We stared at each other across the small space, both of us breathing harder than the moment should have allowed.
I could still feel the heat of her skin on my palms.
She reached down and tugged the hem of the shirt a little lower, but the gesture was half-hearted at best. The outline of her body was still clear.
I dragged a hand down my face and tried to steady my breathing.
“Breakfast,” I said roughly. “We should make breakfast.” She nodded, but her eyes stayed on the thick shape of my cock still pressing against the front of my sweatpants.
“Okay.” We moved around each other carefully after that, the tension so thick it was almost hard to breathe.
She cracked eggs into a bowl while I put bread in the toaster.
Every time our arms brushed the contact lingered.
Every time she leaned past me the soft press of her breast against my arm made my jaw tighten.
By the time the food was ready I was so hard it hurt.
We carried the plates to the small table near the windows and sat down.
She tucked one leg under herself and the shirt rode up again, giving me a clear view of the soft bare skin of her upper thigh.
I ate without tasting anything, my attention locked on her.
She kept glancing at my lap, at the way the sweatpants did nothing to hide how much I wanted her.
The meal passed in near silence, the only sounds the soft clink of forks and the distant birds outside.
When we finished she stood and collected the plates.
As she walked past me toward the kitchen her hip brushed my shoulder.
I turned my head and my mouth ended up only inches from the bare skin of her thigh.
I could have leaned in and kissed it. I could have bitten gently and watched her react.
She paused there for a second longer than necessary, giving me the chance.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to stay still.
She continued into the kitchen. I stayed at the table, hands clenched, cock throbbing, knowing that the careful control I was holding onto was already fraying past the point of easy repair.
I stood up from the table with the intention of putting real distance between us, of walking into the other room and locking the door until the worst of the need passed.
Instead my feet carried me straight into the kitchen where she was rinsing the plates.
She turned when she heard me, the short sleep shirt still barely covering anything, her nipples tight against the thin fabric.
Whatever careful line we had been walking snapped the moment our eyes met.
I closed the last step between us, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her.
Hard. Her mouth opened under mine with a soft sound of surprise that turned into a moan when my tongue slid against hers.