Chapter 14
“Holy shit, Hank.” Bellamy shivers, stamping her fur-trimmed boots on the front porch. Her eyes are wide in the dark. “Find that damn key.”
“Fuck, I’m tryin’.”
I pat my back pockets, well aware of Bell shivering next to me. Well aware of Zelda pressed against the window, howling her distress because we’re not within petting distance.
“It’s so cold,” Bellamy moans. Her voice is raspy from screaming out trivia answers like a woman with a personal vendetta against losing. I forgot how competitive my girl could be. Damn if tonight wasn’t one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time.
“Shit. Think I lost ’em.” I cast a desperate look at the window, wondering how quickly I can bust it in.
“If we’re stranded out here, you owe me partial custody of your coat.”
“Get in here, Bluebell.” I grin at her.
She’s a little tipsy. A lot beautiful.
I open my jacket, and she edges closer with a giggle. Arms wrapped around my waist, face pressed to my chest, she stays there. Fits so goddamn perfectly in my arms that it steals my breath.
Her hands skim my back pockets, and then my front.
When her movements get more frantic, I chuckle. “If you’re lookin’ to do somethin’, sugar, all you gotta do is ask,” I say, my cock twitching in response to her touch.
She laughs out, “More body heat, huh?” She backs up a fraction but doesn’t leave the warmth of my coat, patting herself down.
She makes a little squeak and pulls back to look at me, that lush lower lip rolled between her teeth.
“Don’t kill me, Hank. I have them.” She opens her hand to show me the flash of silver.
“Damn it, Bell.” With a shake of my head, I snatch them from her. “Makin’ me sweat, sugar.”
“It’s called keepin’ you on your toes, cowboy,” she teases earnestly.
I open the door and move to step inside.
Rather than hustle in like I expect, Bellamy grabs my arm, tugging me back. “No, wait. It’s snowing.”
I step back outside, turning so she’s practically in my arms.
She leans back against me, resting her head on my chest. “It’s so beautiful out. That perfect Montana night.”
“It is.” I hold her tight, close, ensuring every bit of her is pressed against me.
Instead of looking up, I examine her pretty face, committing it, this moment, to memory.
Dark lashes against the curve of her dusky cheeks.
Her warmth, the way her hips tilt back to mold to mine. The rise and fall of her chest.
We stand in the darkness, holding each other as fat, fluffy flakes fall from the sky. In the distance, the howl of a coyote.
Bellamy shivers, I shiver, our breaths puff white, yet we make no move to go inside.
Wind gusts. A slight stirring sound above us snags my attention.
I glance up.
Mistletoe hangs from the star-shaped hook in the doorway. I haven’t stood here with Bellamy since the day we lost the baby. I don’t move. Neither does she. Grief pinches hard in the gut, but it’s easier to breathe than it used to be.
“What do you think?” I clear my throat, my voice raspy.
She looks up, following my gaze with dark, wanting eyes. “It’s been old times’ sake all night,” she says in a breathy, pleading tone. “Might as well.”
I brush my hands over her hips, gripping them to turn her toward me. There’s a rush of air from both our lungs as we face each other. She steps closer. Slender, light hands slide up my chest as she tilts her head back.
Leaning low, I frame her gorgeous face in my hands and press a kiss to her pouty lips. She tastes like whiskey, chocolate bitters and banana bread simple syrup from that last cocktail.
Uneven breaths pulse between us as we fight for control. Her mouth brushes over mine, her tongue caressing as she explores. I can’t stop myself from deepening the kiss. From demanding more.
Whimpering, she loops her arms around my neck and twists her fingers in my hair. The air rushes from my lungs, beer and whiskey and Bellamy muddling my thoughts.
This woman consumes me. Can’t eat, sleep or breathe without her on my mind.
Yanking her closer, I fasten my mouth to hers. I’m already unzipping her jacket when I kick open the door.
“We have got to decorate that tree,” she mumbles as I walk her backward into the cabin, my lips still on hers.
“Tomorrow, sugar.”
Zelda flies at us, but I gently shoo her away. Tonight, Bellamy’s just mine.
Together, we navigate the darkness, weaving between furniture and boots until we come to a stop in front of the fire.
Bellamy breaks away, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. “Need you, Hank.”
“Fuck, Bell.” I moan her name like my life depends on it.
Because it does.
She walks out that door again, I won’t survive it.
“Here,” she gasps. “Here.” Her cold hands fight with my belt buckle, frantic.
I chuckle. “Easy, sugar. You hungry?”
“Yes,” she replies, voice breathy and fingers twisting in my belt loops, urging me on. “Hank. Please.”
“You first.” I drop to one knee and tug off her boots. Back to standing, I strip her bare. Jeans and panties in one fell swoop. Then her shirt and bra.
The cabin is dark but aglow with blue moonlight spilling in from the windows. Still warm from today’s earlier fire.
“So goddamn gorgeous.” My greedy eyes drink her in. The full swell of her breasts. The curve of her hip and waist. That tumble of wild dark hair.
She steps into me, shivering. Runs her hands up my sides, taking my thermal with her.
I drop my hand, palming the inside of her bare thigh and squeeze. “Goddamn, Bell,” I grit through my teeth when I find she’s already wet. “Look at you, leaking just for me.”
Her glazed eyes find mine. I back her up against the wall, my restraint splintering. Her body beneath mine is more than I can take.
She flashes me a coy little smile as she spreads her legs and aims that pussy right at me.
A pleased sound rumbles low in my chest. “Ain’t she pretty?” I drag a finger through her folds, earning the smallest, sexiest moan.
Legs spread even wider, she tips her head back.
I grip my cock and guide it between her legs, pressing into her slow. Then I hook my hands beneath her knees and lift her up, up, up until she’s braced against the wall.
I thrust hard.
“Oh, Hank.” Her head falls back, amber eyes shuttering closed.
“Fuck, Bell, you feel so fucking good.” I kiss the hollow of her throat, the pulse beating there. Her body shivers as her inner walls hug me tighter.
I moan, feeling fucking frantic. Out of control for this woman. I never want to be apart from her again.
She lifts her head, her dark gaze on mine, connecting us.
The sight of us joined, all the gorgeousness of Bellamy dripping around us, makes my atoms riot, sends my pulse skyrocketing. “Fuck.”
This is it. This is everything.
Once in a lifetime.
Love. Sex. Friendship.
That’s what Bellamy is. My wife.
She’ll always be my wife.
“Watch.” I growl the demand out. “Watch me slide into you.”
Her breath comes faster as she bows her head.
I slide out, lingering at her entrance, and watch her face change. Desire, lust, sadness, joy.
“Look. Look how goddamn good we look together, sugar. Look at us. It’s always been us.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flutter shut, then open, locking on me again. A single tear drips down her face. “Yes, yes.”
At her words, I surge forward on a roar, thrusting hard, burying myself to the root. She cries out, nails scraping up my back.
“You’re so fucking tight, Bell,” I rasp against her throat, her pulse point. “You’re so fucking mine.”
“Always yours,” she sobs, grinding her hips.
The room fills with hitched breaths and whimpered moans. The scent of sex, of Bellamy, inhabits my senses. I’m lost in her, lost in the woman who makes me feel everything.
I drive into her, my movements rough. The photo on the wall tilts. Zelda barks. Bellamy laughs, hushed and happy, as she runs her fingers over my shoulder blades.
“Can’t. Won’t. Lose you.” The words lurch from my mouth in a strangled moan.
“I know,” she says, voice hushed and tearful.
I kiss her, sliding my tongue across her lips, tasting her tears. Our bodies mold together, heartbeats becoming one, hips pounding harder, pushing her over the edge. She cries out. The sound echoes throughout the cabin.
She tenses as she comes. Her thighs tighten around me, her hold on my shoulder firm. She burrows her face in my neck, her noises spurring me on. One last quick thrust, and I come. I gasp my release into her throat, incapable of rational thought.
Holy fuck, this woman.
The air rushes from our lungs as we cling to one another, Bellamy’s legs dangling limply on either side of me.
I gather her in my arms, flushed and panting, and carry her to the couch where we collapse in a heap and tug the blankets over us.
She lifts her head from my chest. A strand of hair sticks to her flushed cheek. “That was—” She blinks, dazed, wondering. “Everything.”
“Sure damn was, sugar.” I sweep a slow kiss over her lips. Goddamn, I love this woman.
I need that second chance. Need it like I need the blood flowing through my veins.
Every little way she needs, I’ll be there to love her. The way I wasn’t before.
A happy sigh slips from her mouth as she curls into me once more. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” she whispers, drawing a picture only she can visualize across my chest with her fingertip. “We need pie.”
“We’ll have pie, Bluebell.” And so much more. The entire cache of food I stockpiled, preparing to ambush her Christmas.
“We don’t have presents.”
“Don’t need ’em.” She’s enough.
“I need to decorate the tree.”
“We’ll decorate the tree.”
Anything else you want, I’ll give it.
I secure the blanket around her slender shoulder, my heart a pounding beat in my chest, like a countdown clock for the rest of my life. Because tomorrow, when the sun rises, I have no intention of letting her go.