6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Gage
I pour another finger of whiskey, staring into the flames like they might offer salvation from the thoughts burning through my mind. The fire crackles, but it's not loud enough to drown out the gentle splash of water from down the hall.
Eden's in there. Naked. In my tub.
The glass freezes halfway to my lips as another soft sigh drifts through the cabin. My fingers tighten around the whiskey until I'm half-afraid the glass might shatter.
I knock back the drink, welcoming the burn. It doesn't help. Nothing helps when all I can picture is golden hair floating in the water, skin wet and utterly irresistible.
"Fuck." I scrub a hand over my face, trying to erase the image. The bottle's looking real tempting right now.
More water sloshes. She must be moving, stretching those long legs.
I spring up from the chair, pacing the length of the fireplace. The old wound in my side twinges, a reminder of everything I've lost. Everything I don't deserve.
Especially not Daniel's daughter, who's currently making these little contented noises that shoot straight through me.
The sound of water draining should bring relief. Instead, my entire body tenses, knowing she'll walk out here any minute wearing my clothes, smelling like my soap, her skin still warm and sexy.
I grab the bottle. To hell with the glass.
Daniel would kill me if he could see inside my head right now.
The bathroom door creaks, and I freeze mid-step, bottle dangling from my fingers. Eden emerges in a cloud of steam, wearing nothing but my red flannel shirt. Her damp hair tumbles past her shoulders, and the firelight catches on miles of bare thigh below the shirt's hem.
My throat closes up. Every muscle in my body locks down tight.
"I hope you don't mind." She tugs at the hem, drawing it higher. "The sweats were a little loose around my waist."
The bottle hits the table with a thud. "You need pants."
"Do I?" She glides closer, bare feet silent on the wooden floor. "It's so warm by the fire."
I back up a step, but she keeps coming, all soft curves and bedroom eyes. "Eden."
"I like when you say my name like that." She settles onto the couch, tucking those dangerous legs under her with a tempting smile teasing me. "Come sit with me?"
The invitation in her voice could bring a better man to his knees. And I'm not a better man.
I watch, throat tight, as Eden grabs the bottle from my shaking grasp and lifts it to those glorious pink lips.
Her throat works as she swallows, and something primal stirs in my chest. She pats the cushion beside her, and I practically bow at her mercy.
The couch dips as I sit. Every nerve ending screams at the proximity of her bare skin, at the way my shirt barely covers the tops of her thighs.
"You okay?" Her voice is soft, too fucking soft.
"Fine." The word scrapes out.
I'm the furthest thing from fine. I'm damn well burning alive.
She shifts closer, her knee brushing mine. "You're quiet."
I drain my glass in one swallow. "Just thinking about the roof."
"You did an amazing job up there." Her fingers trail along the bottle's neck. "You've got very capable hands."
The way she says it - like she's imagining what else these hands can do - sends blood rushing south. My knuckles whiten against the crystal in my hand.
"The tarp will hold." My voice sounds strangled. "Until the storm passes."
She hums, a low sound that vibrates through me. "Good to know we're safe and sound in here. Just the two of us."
"Yeah. The two of us."
Eden's sigh whispers through the cabin. The soft sound crawls under my skin, settles deep in my chest where I can't dig it out.
"You know what's strange?" Her voice carries that dreamy quality that makes my hands itch to touch her. "I've spent the last eight years feeling lost. You know, since—"
"I know."
I don't mean to cut her off. I've never spoken about Daniel, about her father. Not out loud.
Eden looks at me and smiles gently, like she's the only person in the world who understands the pain I feel in my heart every damn day.
"I've spent all this time trying to be what everyone expected. But Gage… it's crazy here, in this cabin..." She pauses, and I feel her gaze on my profile. "With you... I finally feel found. Like you understand."
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack.
Everything in me wants to turn, to gather her close, to claim what she's offering.
But I can't.
I made a promise.
The cushions shift. Her leg presses against mine, and my breath catches as her fingers find my arm. They trace the raised scar tissue there, leaving fire in their wake.
"I can read you like a book, you know." Her touch drifts higher, mapping the battlefield written on my skin. "One of the gifts my father left me, you'd know that better than most."
I swallow hard and nod at the memories that flood back. "Your father certainly did read people well. Got us into trouble one too many times."
She smiles. "And yet you're still sitting there thinking you're not supposed to want me."
My fingers twitch against my glass.
Christ, she has no idea how close I am to breaking. How thin my control has worn.
"But what if this isn't wrong at all?" Her words ghost across my shoulder, ignoring the fight of distraction I'm putting up as she curls in closer. "Gage… what if we're both exactly where we're meant to be?"
My muscles coil tight, every instinct screaming to take, to possess, to make her mine.
Eden tilts her head, the firelight turning her golden hair into a halo.
Her hand lifts to my face, and I forget how to breathe.
Her fingers graze my jaw, tracing the stubble I haven't bothered to shave in days. When they brush against my mouth, something possessive roars to life inside me.
I catch her wrist, my grip so rough it's almost bruising. "Eden. We can't."
The words come out strangled. Like a final warning before I lose control completely.
Still she doesn't pull away. Not an inch.
Instead, she leans in closer until I can feel her breath mingling with mine, the scent of my soap on her skin driving me mad.
"You're exactly what I've been looking for," she whispers, sincere eyes locked on mine.
"I'm not." My voice cracks. "I'm damaged goods, Eden. A broken soldier who couldn't even save your father. I'm last man on earth who deserves to touch Daniel's daughter."
Her upper lip stiffens when I lift my chin to look at her.
"Tell me you don't want this. Look me in the eyes and say those words, Gage."
Her challenge cuts through my defenses, her gaze unwavering as she pushes against the forcefield I've built around myself.
"I see your pain. But you don't need to hide from me. I feel your pain too, I do." She reaches for my hands and grab them, squeezing them in a way no one has in years. "Your pain is my pain, Gage. I lost him too, remember? But we can heal, we can honor him, together."
Hearing those words, the truth behind them that I've refused to believe all these years, fuck… something inside me snaps.
Eight years of guilt. Eight years of isolation. Eight years of punishing myself for surviving when Daniel didn't.
All of it—shattered by this woman who refuses to let me hide.
I kiss her.
My hands cradle her face as my mouth claims hers, desperate and hungry. The taste of her floods my senses like salvation. Like coming home after years lost in the wilderness.
I kiss her like a drowning man finding air. There's nothing gentle about it—my mouth claims hers with years of pent-up need, my tongue demanding entrance. When she parts her lips, a growl tears from my throat.
I haul her onto my lap, fingers digging into her waist hard enough to bruise. She gasps against my mouth, but there's no fear in the sound—only lust and desire.
"Fuck, Eden," I murmur against her neck, teeth grazing her pulse point. "We're doing this then?"
She nods against my mouth. "Uh huh. Please …"
My hands slide under the flannel shirt, feeling nothing but bare skin underneath.
"Fuck, woman. I'm gonna taste every inch of you," I growl, biting into the soft flesh where her neck meets her shoulder. "Mark you up so everyone knows you're mine."
Her head falls back, exposing more of her throat to my hungry mouth. My teeth scrape against her collarbone, leaving red marks that'll bloom purple by morning.
"Yes," she breathes, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling hard enough to hurt in the best possible way.
I slide my hands up her sides, feeling the softness of her skin. My palms cup her tits, thumbs brushing over her nipples. They're already hard, begging for attention. I pinch them lightly, rolling the sensitive buds between my fingers.
She moans, arching into my touch. "Gage..."
Her voice is breathy, needy. It sends a jolt of heat straight to my groin. I pinch her nipples harder, tugging slightly. She gasps, the sound going straight to my head.
"Like that?" I murmur against her ear, giving another tug.
Her answering moan is all the confirmation I need.
She shifts on my lap, her thighs spreading wider as she straddles me properly.
The heat of her core presses against my erection, separated only by the thin fabric of my sweatpants. The contact sends electricity racing up my spine, shorting out every rational thought in my brain.
When she rocks against me, I forget my name, forget my sins, forget everything but the feel of her in my arms. My hands grip her ass, guiding her movements as she grinds down and I rip the shirt off her shoulders.
"Christ, sunshine," I groan, my hips bucking up to meet hers as I stare at the most perfect set of tits I've ever seen. "You're so fucking gorgeous. So perfect."
I lean forward, my mouth closing around her nipple, sucking hard. Her head falls back, a moan escaping her lips. Her hand finds the back of my head, guiding me, pressing me closer until I’m practically swallowing her perfectly plump tits down.
I swirl my tongue around the hardened peak, feeling her shudder in response. My free hand cups her other breast, kneading and squeezing as I continue to suck.
“Gage,” she breathes out, her voice trembling with need.
I switch to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, sucking and nibbling until she’s writhing on my lap.
Her hips move restlessly against mine, seeking friction. The feel of her heat pressing against my erection is almost too much. I release her nipple with a wet pop and look up at her flushed face.
“You like that?” I ask, my voice rough with desire.
“God, yes,” she gasps, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.
She’s mine now. Completely and utterly mine.
I lay her down on the couch, my body hovering over hers. My hands palm her thighs, sliding up her legs. The heat of her skin seeps into my palms, making my fingers itch to explore further.
With a growl, I drag her panties down, revealing her glistening pussy as she splits her legs for me with no hesitation.
"Good girl," I growl, watching her move with confidence. "Let me see how perfect your cunt is."
And… wow .
Her clit is swollen and pink, practically begging for my tongue. She's soaked, the evidence of her arousal shining in the low light of the cabin.
"Fuck, Eden," I murmur, unable to tear my eyes away from the perfect view between her legs.
Her hands tremble as she leans forward and reaches for my belt, fingers fumbling but determined. She manages to pull it open, freeing my cock. The moment she touches me with small, tentative strokes, I hiss through clenched teeth.
It's almost too much, too good.
But then a thought hits me like a freight train. Has she ever done this before?
I look between her legs, then back to her eyes. They're wide and innocent, filled with trust and something deeper—something that makes me freeze in place.
Her perfect cunt glistens with need, but it's the look in her eyes that tells me everything I need to know.
I push up to my knees, bringing my eyes level with hers.
"You're a virgin, aren't you, sunshine?"
Her nod is small but certain, her honey-brown eyes never wavering from mine.
"I’m all yours," she whispers, and the simplicity of those words detonates something primal inside me.
Possessiveness explodes within me, consuming every rational thought.
She’s untouched. Pure. Mine. Only mine.
And I’m about to ruin her in the best damn way imaginable.
I cup her face, my thumb tracing her trembling lower lip. “I'm never letting you go, Eden.”