Chapter 6 Maddox
MADDOX
I told Sophia I don’t remember the nightmare. But I do, of course. It’s the same one I have all the time. It usually takes me a while to shake it off and come back to myself, but with Sophia here, the bad dream is already receding into the darkness once more.
All that’s left is her.
She looks so fucking adorable wearing my old sweater.
It drapes over her, way too big, but still not enough to cover her curves.
She’s kneeling by my side, her face level with mine and the soft pads of her fingers resting on my shoulder, like she’s forgotten they’re even there.
The tiny amount of contact is enough to spread warmth down my arm, making my fingers tingle.
“I’m glad you’re here, Sophia.”
The words surprise me just as much as they surprise her. I didn’t mean to speak my thoughts aloud, and Sophia’s eyes widen, like molten chocolate in the firelight.
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” she breathes.
A lock of hair falls from behind her ear, and I tuck it back before she can move.
It’s an instinctive gesture. Another slip.
My walls are tumbling faster than I can build them back up, and my self-control is ebbing to nothing.
All the reasons I shouldn’t want Sophia seem so hazy right now.
The whole world feels bright and dream-like as my gaze roams her face, from her wavy hair to her pillowy pink lips.
It hits me all at once.
The need to kiss her.
Touch her.
I reach for her, half-crazed, pressing my hand against the back of her head.
Then I crush my mouth to hers. She tastes sweet and tart, like cherries bursting on my tongue.
I groan against her mouth, my heart thudding in my ears.
Sophia doesn’t respond right away, but eventually her lips move against mine, our warm breath mingling as she urges me closer.
My tongue brushes hers, hot and silky. All my blood rushes downward.
My cock throbs as I tangle my hands in Sophia’s hair, aching for her.
Adrenaline floods my body—it zips through my veins as I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing her soft skin.
What the hell are you doing?
The voice in my head deafens me. I feel my body freeze.
Get your filthy fucking hands off her.
Remember who you are.
Remember what you’ve done.
Breathing hard, I let my hands fall away from Sophia’s face, pulling back from her lips. I can still taste her, feel her warmth on my tongue, and for a moment, I can’t bear to look at her.
“Sorry…I shouldn’t have done that.” My voice is a hoarse grunt, torn reluctantly from my throat. “It was a mistake.”
I meet Sophia’s gaze in time to see a flicker of hurt pass over her face. Her expression drops, and my heart drops with it.
Goddammit, I’m making such a mess of this.
“That’s not what I meant,” I blurt out. “Fuck, I’m no good with words.”
“It’s okay.” Sophia is already drawing away from me, straightening up from the floor. “I should probably go back to bed.”
She’s not looking at me. I can’t blame her. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening as she turns away from me.
“Sophia—”
“Goodnight, Maddox,” she says.
Before I can find the words to explain myself, she slips away down the corridor. I hear the creak of my bedroom door opening and closing. Then I stare blankly up at the ceiling, feeling like an asshole, and knowing for damn sure that I won’t get a wink of sleep tonight.
After hours of tossing and turning, I finally give in.
A pale gray light fills the room as I force myself off the couch and look outside.
The snow is piled high. A few more inches and it will block the windows completely.
It’s falling a little slower now, but there’s still no chance of Sophia getting out of here anytime soon.
It should be bad news, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.
I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It was instinctive, spur of the moment, but I couldn’t help it. After fifteen years of living on Cherry Mountain, I’ve never had another person sleep under my roof. Now the most beautiful woman in the world is sleeping in my bed.
How was I meant to resist?
I shouldn’t want her. She’s half my age and sweet as cherry pie.
Hell, I definitely shouldn’t have kissed her.
But I can’t bring myself to regret it. Kissing Sophia felt so damn good.
I can’t stop thinking about how her hot little tongue brushed mine, how she made a soft moan in the back of her throat when I pulled her closer.
She’ll be the fucking death of me, I swear.
I try to pull myself together, getting a fire started in the living room before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower.
It doesn’t help. My veins are still simmering with desire as I pull on the clean outfit I set aside yesterday, buttoning up my flannel shirt.
There’s no sound coming from my room, so I set about making breakfast, ready for when Sophia wakes up.
I hear the creak of my door just as I start plating up the stacks of pancakes, drizzling them with syrup and chopped berries.
I feel her eyes on me as she enters the kitchen, and the air seems to be sucked completely from the room.
“Good morning,” she says tentatively.
“Morning.”
The tension settles over us like a physical weight as I turn to face her. She’s still wearing my sweater like a dress, her hair slightly mussed from sleep. It’s hard to avoid looking at her mouth, remembering how fucking soft and sweet her lips were against mine. How damn intoxicating they felt.
“You hungry?” I ask, mostly just to fill the silence.
“Starving.” She spots the stack of pancakes. “Wow, that looks amazing.”
Her voice is artificially cheery, like she’s trying to be extra friendly after last night. Pretending like nothing happened.
“You won’t be able to leave for a while,” I tell her, gesturing toward the window as she follows me into the living room. “Snow’s piled up high.”
She peers outside, whistling. “Shoot.”
I set the pancakes on the table and we sit across from each other, eating in silence.
“These are really good,” she says.
“Glad you like them. Want anything to drink? Coffee? Orange juice?”
“Orange juice would be great.”
I go to the kitchen to fill up a glass, and she thanks me when I set it down in front of her.
We continue our polite small talk. The pancakes.
The weather. The possibility of digging her car out.
Both of us carefully skirt around the only thing on our minds.
And every time our eyes meet, there’s no hiding it.
When she looks at me, it feels like electricity is sizzling across the room, traveling from her eyes into mine.
We keep up the pretense all through breakfast before we end up in the kitchen.
“You don’t need to help,” I tell Sophia as I wash her plate. “I got it.”
But she insists. I wash and she dries, the two of us standing side by side in my small kitchen, our sides brushing with every movement. It’s as much as I can take. I feel like I’m about to explode.
“So, we should probably talk about last night,” I say, trying to keep my voice measured.
I see Sophia’s cheeks pinken in my peripheral vision. “It’s okay. I get it was a mistake. We can just move on…”
“It wasn’t a mistake.” I give up on the dishes, dropping them in the sink and facing Sophia. “I should never have said that.”
She tosses the dish towel onto the counter and meets my gaze. “So, why did you pull away?” Her voice is quiet, like she’s nervous to hear the answer.
“Because I…” The words die in my throat, and I run a hand over my beard, frustrated as hell. Expressing myself has never been my strong suit. “Because I can’t…I shouldn’t want you like that.”
Sophia frowns in confusion. “Why not?”
“Lots of reasons.” I sigh deeply. “You’re young, sugar. Too young. And you’re sweet as hell, too. You’re an angel, and I’m…well, I’m not a good person.”
Something defiant flashes in those pretty brown eyes.
“Not a good person? You saved me from a snowstorm. Offered to fill up my car. Told me I could take free firewood. You gave me your bed and slept on the couch. You made me breakfast.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You didn’t have to do any of that.
Most people would have done the bare minimum.
How can you say you’re not a good person after all that? ”
Somehow, she looks even more gorgeous than usual with this spark in her eyes. She looks stubborn and determined as hell, and I want her so badly it hurts.
“Doing a few good deeds here and there doesn’t make someone a good person,” I tell her. “I have a past. Things I’ve done…”
“Everyone has a past.”
A rough chuckle escapes my throat. “Got an answer for everything, haven’t you, sugar?”
I step toward her. I don’t mean to, but my feet move of their own accord. She moves too, tipping her head back to look at me.
“I just think you’re being too hard on yourself, Maddox. You saved my life last night. I was in a lot of trouble, and you rescued me.”
Did I?
Or did she rescue me?
‘Cause that’s sure as hell what it’s starting to feel like.
Our bodies are so close we’re touching; I can count each individual lash framing her eyes. I lean in, barely breathing as I say, “I’m no good for you, sugar.” The words hang between us, a final barrier reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t want Sophia.
Then I kiss her anyway.