Chapter 6
SIX
JUNIE
The cabin’s quiet except for the soft crackle of the dying fire.
I lie awake in Wyatt’s bed, staring at the wooden beams on the ceiling, my body warm under the heavy quilt but my mind wide awake.
It’s been hours since he helped me settle in for the night, and I still can’t stop thinking about how wrong it feels to take his bed while he sleeps in that old chair.
He has been nothing but kind to me. He saved my life, carried me through the snow, fed me, and gave me his shirt to wear.
And here I am, taking up his only comfortable place to sleep.
I shift carefully onto my side, mindful of the gash on my leg.
The pain is better now, but it still pulls if I move too fast. The room is dark except for the faint orange glow from the hearth.
I can just make out Wyatt’s silhouette in the chair.
He’s too big for it. His shoulders are broad and his legs are long, and he looks cramped and uncomfortable.
I feel a pang of guilt so sharp it makes my chest tight.
He deserves better than this. He deserves his own bed.
I take a deep breath and speak before I can talk myself out of it. “Wyatt?”
He shifts immediately, like he wasn’t really sleeping. His voice is low and rough in the darkness. “Yeah?”
I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. “I feel bad about taking your bed. There’s plenty of room for both of us. You shouldn’t have to sleep in that chair. It looks terrible.”
There’s a long pause. Then a low growl rumbles from his chest. It’s deep and primal, and it sends a shiver straight through me.
I shouldn’t find that sound so attractive.
I shouldn’t be lying here wondering what it would feel like if he growled like that against my skin.
I’m a virgin. I have never been with a man.
I’ve never even been kissed properly. But something about Wyatt makes my body react in ways I don’t understand.
Heat pools low in my belly. My thighs press together under the blanket. I feel flushed and restless.
He growls again, softer this time, like he’s trying to control it. “Junie…”
The way he says my name makes my heart skip. I smile in the dark, even though he can’t see it. “It’s funny and kind of cute when you growl like that.”
Another pause. Then his voice comes out even lower. “You think it’s cute?”
I nod before realizing he can’t see me. “Yes. It is. But I’m serious. Come to bed. I don’t like that you’re uncomfortable because of me.”
I hear him exhale slowly. The chair creaks as he stands.
His footsteps are quiet on the wooden floor as he approaches the bed.
The mattress dips under his weight when he sits on the edge.
He’s so much bigger than I realized. The bed feels smaller with him in it.
He takes up nearly all the space, his broad shoulders and long legs filling the room in a way that makes my pulse race.
He hesitates. “You sure about this? I can still take the couch.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure. I want you here. I feel safer when you’re close.”
He growls again, the sound vibrating through the darkness.
It sends another rush of heat through me.
I shouldn’t be having these feelings. Not now.
Not with what I was sent here to do. I’m supposed to be looking for my brother.
I’m supposed to be careful. But I can’t help it.
Wyatt is strong and sexy in a way I’ve never experienced before.
The way he looks at me, the way he touches me, the way he takes care of me—it makes me want things I have never wanted.
He lies down beside me, careful not to jostle my leg.
The bed is big, but he’s so large that our bodies are still close.
I turn onto my side to face him, careful of the injury.
He lies on his back, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his stomach.
I can feel the heat coming off him. I can hear his breathing, a little faster than normal.
We lay there in silence for a while. The tension between us is thick. I can feel it in the air. I wonder if he’s as turned on as I am. I wonder if he’s thinking about touching me. I wonder if he can hear how fast my heart is beating.
“Wyatt?” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
“Will you hold me? Just for a little while. I feel safer when you do.”
He growls again, deeper this time. The sound makes my whole body heat up.
He turns onto his side to face me. His arm slides around my waist and pulls me gently against him.
I tuck my head under his chin, my injured leg carefully positioned between us.
His body is so warm. So solid. I can feel the hard planes of his chest against my breasts.
His hand rests on my lower back, fingers splayed wide.
“Better?” he asks, voice husky.
“Much better.”
We stay like that for a long time. His heartbeat is steady under my ear.
His breath fans across the top of my head.
I feel safe. Protected. But I also feel something else.
Something hotter. My body is pressed against his, and I can feel how hard he is.
The thick length of him is unmistakable against my thigh.
It makes me ache in a way I’ve never ached before.
I’ve never been this close to a man. Never felt this kind of desire.
But with Wyatt, it feels natural. Right.
I tilt my head up. Our faces are inches apart. I can see the hunger in his eyes even in the dark. He wants me. Badly. The realization makes me bold.
“Wyatt,” I whisper.
He makes a low sound in his throat. “Junie…”
I lean in and kiss him.
The moment our lips meet, everything changes.
The kiss starts soft, tentative, but quickly deepens.
His hand slides up my back and into my hair, holding me closer.
His mouth is warm and demanding, tasting like the man who saved me.
I moan softly against him, and he swallows the sound, kissing me harder.
His tongue slides against mine, and I feel it everywhere.
My nipples tighten. Heat floods between my legs. I press closer, wanting more.
He growls into the kiss, the sound vibrating through me. One of his hands moves down to my hip, gripping me firmly but carefully, like he’s fighting not to lose control. I can feel how much he wants me. His cock is hard and thick against my thigh, and it makes me dizzy with need.
“Baby girl,” he rasps against my lips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I kiss him again, pouring everything I feel into it.
Fear. Gratitude. Desire. All of it. He kisses me back like he’s starving for me.
His hand slides under the hem of the flannel shirt, stroking the bare skin of my waist. His touch is gentle but possessive.
I arch into him, wanting more. Needing more.
He pulls back just enough to look at me. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. “Tell me to stop and I will. I don’t want to push you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t stop. I want this. I want you.”
He groans and kisses me again, deeper this time. His hand moves higher under the shirt, cupping my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, and I gasp into his mouth. The sensation is electric. He does it again, rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers until I’m whimpering.
“So responsive,” he murmurs. “So perfect. I’ve wanted to touch you like this since the moment I saw you.”
I moan softly as he kisses down my neck, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin. His hand continues to tease my breast while his other hand slides down my body, careful of my injured leg. He strokes my thigh, then moves higher, until his fingers brush the edge of my panties.
I’m soaked. I can feel it. The fabric is damp against me. He groans when he feels it too.
“Fuck, Junie. You’re so wet for me.”
I blush hard, but I don’t pull away. I want this. I want him to touch me. I want to feel everything he can give me.
He kisses me again as his fingers slip under the edge of my panties. He strokes me slowly, teasing my folds, circling my clit with just the right pressure. I moan into his mouth, hips rocking against his hand. He’s so good at this. So patient. So focused on making me feel good.
“That’s it,” he whispers against my lips. “Let me take care of you. Let Daddy make you feel good.”
The word sends a fresh wave of heat through me.
I whimper and press closer. He slides one finger inside me, then two, stretching me gently while his thumb circles my clit.
The pleasure builds fast and sharp. I’ve never felt anything like this.
I cling to his shoulders, moaning his name as I come apart under his hand.
He kisses me through it, swallowing every sound, his fingers still moving slowly inside me until the last tremor fades. When I finally go limp, he pulls his hand away and brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting me. The sight makes my core clench again.
“So sweet,” he murmurs. “I could taste you for hours.”
I blush furiously, but I can’t look away. He kisses me again, letting me taste myself on his tongue. It’s filthy and intimate and I love it.
We kiss for a long time after that. Slow and deep and full of promise. His hands roam over my body, learning every curve. I touch him too, running my hands over his chest and shoulders, feeling the hard muscle under my palms. He’s so strong. So solid.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing hard. He rests his forehead against mine.
“Sleep, baby girl,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
I close my eyes and let myself drift, safe in his arms, my body still humming from his touch.