Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Tessa
The cabin feels even quieter when I get back inside.
It was clear Holt needed some time alone, and I’d pushed him as far as I could.
For the moment.
My skin is still buzzing, like I’ve stepped straight out of a storm instead of the woods. I’ve never been kissed like that before. Ever.
I need to cool off before I self-combust.
I strip off my clothes and head straight for the bathroom, letting the water run before I can overthink it.
I step under the spray and suck in a sharp breath as the cool water hits my overheated skin.
I should be freezing after being outside without my shirt on—that was such a crazy, bold move.
The water should shock me back to reality.
It should rinse away the way his hands felt on my waist. The way his mouth claimed mine like I was already his. His.
It doesn’t.
I brace my hands against the tile, drop my head down, and let the water run over me. My thoughts are refusing to behave. All I can think of is the way his lips felt on mine. The way his tongue devoured me. The way his hands slid up my side, wanting more.
But it’s his growl that echoes in my head. The way his body went rigid like he was holding himself back by sheer will.
The kiss was supposed to scare me away.
But why?
That’s what I can’t figure out. Holt clearly wants me, too. I saw the way he looked at me. The way he kissed me. I may not have a ton of experience with men, but I know enough.
And I know he wants me.
The water warms gradually, chasing the chill from my bones, and before I realize it, I’m leaning into the heat of the water.
My eyes slide shut, and my breath slows as I let my hand slide over my skin, between my legs.
I touch myself slowly, experimentally, as I close my eyes to the memory of Holt’s rough hands on me, the way he touched me like he was trying to memorize the feel of me.
But my own touch is hollow now. My body knows the difference, and it knows that this isn’t what I want anymore.
I want Holt.
With a frustrated sigh, I pull my hand away and laugh under my breath. “Well,” I murmur, “that’s new.”
But that’s when it hits me.
It’s not just about that.
Although I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a big part of things.
But it’s more than that.
More than just the curiosity and rebellion of seeing how hard I can push him.
It’s the way he looked at me right before he walked away, like he was choosing not to take more instead of not wanting to.
That matters.
I turn the water off before my thoughts drift somewhere way too dangerous. I wrap myself in a thick towel, my skin flushed and warm as I step back into the bedroom. My eyes land on my journal still on the nightstand where I left it earlier.
I dress quickly and run a comb through my hair before taking my journal out to the living room, where the fire is still burning in the hearth.
I wrap myself in a blanket and sink into the couch.
After rereading the words I wrote earlier, I scribble down my new, even more confused thoughts and try to capture the memory of the kiss we’d shared.
Normally, when I journal, it helps me sort out my thoughts and see things with more clarity, but now, I’m more confused than ever.
Because whatever had happened out there with Holt—that line we’d just crossed?
It wasn’t an accident.
I’d stepped over it on purpose.
And now that I knew what it felt like to be in his arms, wanted by the man I’d been dreaming about my whole life—
I wasn’t about to pretend I didn’t know exactly what I was doing.
Or where this was heading.
And I had no intention of stopping.
Holt
I split the last log with a bit more force than necessary. It cracks clean down the middle, the sound sharp in the cold, quiet air.
But it does nothing to quiet the noise in my head. None of the dozens of logs I’ve already split have done anything to settle me down the way the rhythmic task usually does.
I stack it anyway.
Then another and another.
My shoulders burn, my muscles aching with the effort.
Still, I don’t stop.
I’ve split enough wood to last through the whole season and into the winter at this point, but every time I slow down, she’s there.
Those big, way-too-innocent eyes, her plump lips curled up into a teasing smile. The taste of her on my lips. The feel of her sweet skin under my rough hands.
Those tits.
Damn. Those round, perfect globes spilling from the cups of her bra, begging to be sucked and teased and—
Fuck.
I bring the ax down one final time and bury it in the log on the splitting block.
I’m in very dangerous territory. I need to get her and the way she was looking at me like she knew exactly what she was doing out of my head.
And that’s the problem.
The kiss was supposed to scare her away. It was supposed to prove she was in over her head with me.
Despite what she might think, she can’t handle what I have to offer.
She has no idea.
I drag the back of my arm across my forehead and blow out a breath. I’ve spent my whole damn life learning how to walk away, how to stay in control, how to shut things down before they turn into something I can’t fix, and how to hide out when all else fails.
But something tells me I’m not going to be able to hide from this.
Not from her.
Tessa didn’t even flinch.
She didn’t hesitate when my lips took hers.
She didn’t look at me like I was dangerous.
It was exactly the opposite. She’d looked at me like she wanted me.
No one looks at me like that.
I curse under my breath and grab my jacket, pulling it on over the shirt I didn’t dare take off again.
I fill my arms with a load of freshly split wood. It’ll be a cool night again in the cabin. I’ll need to keep the fire going.
As soon as my foot hits the porch, I freeze.
Her voice drifts from the living room.
“I’m fine, Dad. Don’t worry.”
Guilt hits me square in the chest.
Of all the people on the mountain, of all the lines that shouldn’t have been crossed, this one sits at the very top of the list.
I hesitate, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to lurk outside on my own goddamn porch.
I drop the wood in the basket on the porch and slip into the cabin, stopping just inside the doorway. I don’t mean to listen, but I don’t move away either.
She’s on the phone. Obviously, Luke’s satellite system is still in place despite the storm.
I’d explained to Tessa that while most of the mountain had no cell service, her father had set up an extensive satellite system to run his financial business from his home office and had extended the service to all of us.
“I promise,” she continues, turning as she notices me. Her lips curl up into a soft smile. “You don’t have to worry,” she says into the phone before pulling it away from her ear and clicking the button to put it on speaker.
There’s a pause, and then—
“You’re in good hands with Holt,” Luke says. “Let him take care of you.”
My jaw tightens. Her nostrils flare, and she sucks in a breath.
“That’s a good idea,” she says, meeting and holding my gaze. “I’ll let him take very good care of me.”
Fuck. Me.
“Good,” Luke says, completely oblivious to what a traitorous asshole I am. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. I have a few more meetings I’m trying to cancel, and then I’ll need to get up the mountain. I could still be a few days, depending on the roads.”
“That’s okay.” She looks me directly in the eyes as she speaks. “Take your time.”
She ends the call and sets the phone down, her eyes still locked on me.
The silence that follows is loaded.
She doesn’t look away.
I was an idiot to think that kiss would have scared her off. It had only done the exact opposite.
As if to confirm my thoughts, she says, “You don’t scare me, Holt.”
I swallow and jerk my head in a nod. “I’m starting to see that.”
I run my hand through my hair and walk across the room toward the kitchen. I take my time pouring myself a measure of whiskey before I turn around. “I’m not who you think I am, Tessa.”
She stands from the couch where she’d been curled up and pulls her hair up to the top of her head, stretching so I can see the expanse of skin on her stomach before dropping her hands and letting her long blonde locks spill down over her shoulders.
“You’re exactly who I think you are,” she says. “Who I’ve always thought you were.”
I frown and take a sip of the golden liquid. “What does that mean?”
“You’re a good man, Holt.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know me.”
“I know my dad trusts you,” she says, taking a step toward me. “And he told me to let you take care of me.”
“That’s not what he meant.”
“It’s what I meant.” She reaches for the whiskey in my hand, and I let her take it. I watch as she takes a small sip and doesn’t flinch at the burn of the alcohol. “I’m a big girl, Holt. I make my own decisions.”
Something in me snaps.
It’s a quiet but dangerous shift.
Walking away from her—from this—no longer feels like an option.
I should say something.
Instead, I reach for her.
My hand curls around her waist, tugging her toward me. I let my thumb move in small circles on the inch of exposed flesh.
Her breath catches. Mine does, too.
“This is a bad idea,” I murmur.
She looks up, her eyes steady and full of challenge. And desire. “So, stop.”
I don’t.
I tug her closer until my body is pressed up against hers, and I kiss her like I need her to breathe.
She melts into me, soft curves molding to my hard edges, her hands fisting in my shirt.
There’s no hesitancy anymore. Just pure, reckless, dangerous hunger. What’s left of my control frays as her tongue tangles with mine, sharp with the sweet tang of whiskey.
“Tessa,” I growl against her mouth, hands roaming to her hips, sliding up and under the fabric of her shirt to expose more of that creamy skin. “Last chance to stop this.”
Her fingers dig into my shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”
That’s all it takes. I hoist her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the couch and drop her onto the cushions.
Clothes come off in a frenzy. Her shirt, leggings. Everything hits the floor.
She’s bare to me except for that pretty satin bra, tits straining against the fabric, and a matching pair of panties, already soaked for me.