When I begged Mom to let me be homeschooled, she only laughed at my concerns. “Use what the Lord and your momma gave you, baby girl,” she said, then gave me a list of ways to make men grovel at my feet. She even offered to let me watch some of her video collection so I’d be, “Familiar with the moves.”
When I turned eighteen, her agent began suggesting I go into the business, and even offered to “pop my cherry” so that it would be over and done with “by someone with plenty of experience. Har de har har.”
He’d laughed, but I could see the seriousness in his eyes, hear the way his breathing changed as he moved closer.
“You’re even more beautiful than your mother,” he’d told me. “I can make you a star.”
“Zoe?”
I blinked, coming back to the room. To him. To Gray, not Theo Southerland. To the man looking at me with a mixture of confusion and tenderness, not the man who only saw a body and dollar signs.
I finally did what I’d been wanting to do. I lifted my hand and stroked his beard, sinking my fingers in its thick softness. “Yes?”
His eyes fell to my lips. “Of all the mountains in all the countries, in all the planets, in all the universe, why did you show up on mine?”
It must have been a rhetorical question because in the next moment, his lips were on mine, and the first touch was exquisite. I whimpered and circled the back of his neck with my hands, needing something to hold on to.
His fingers tightened in my hair, and he turned my head, changing the angle of our mouths. He licked at my lips, and I opened them, moaning as his velvety tongue encircled mine.
In my books, I tried to write how I imagined this would feel, but my words had failed to bring the experience to life. This was more. It was a soul-searing, breath-stealing, heart-rending kiss that must’ve been the main cause of global warming. This was the kiss of fantasies. And it was happening to me.
Nothing had ever been so right.
Or so wrong.
Necessary.
Inevitable.
Since he pulled me from the Jeep, the universe had pressed us toward this moment. In a few days or weeks, the snow would melt, and I would leave, but I’d always have this to hold on to.
Then I felt it.
Felt the instant it changed for him.
Felt his muscles tense and his breathing change.
I opened my eyes to find him watching me, then our lips parted and our hands fell away.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes telling a story of pain and uncertainty. He didn’t want to hurt me. Hurt himself. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re vulnerable. Alone with a stranger. You have a concussion, for Christ’s sake. I shouldn’t have—”
I couldn’t listen to him go on and on about how wrong this was, not while my body hummed with need. Very gently, I rose to my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. “Thank you.”
I’d meant to say goodnight, but that wasn’t what came out. But I realized I was grateful. Not pathetically grateful for the kiss, but for him showing me that things could be different between a man and a woman. Different from the way I’d learned… and experienced.
If nothing else, my time in the cabin would serve as a salve on those open wounds, and maybe I could face the world a bit less afraid.
It hurt to see how relieved he was when I stepped away, but I didn’t let it show. With all the grace I could muster within my trembling body, I went back into the bedroom and closed the door. With my head on his pillow and his dog at my feet, I watched the fire burn down to embers once again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gray
What in the hell was I doing?
Even as my lips moved over hers. Even as my tongue begged for entrance. Even as her mouth opened in welcome, I knew what I was doing was wrong.
For so many reasons.
Only a bastard of epic proportions would take advantage of someone in such a vulnerable position. She had a head injury, for Christ’s sake. The adrenaline had barely drained from her system after the accident in which she very nearly died. She was weak. Sore. I’d taken advantage of her under all of those circumstances. Worse, she’d let me.
I could remember Jessica talking about the Knight in Shining Armor Syndrome. She’d been reading one of the books she loved and had mused about the heroine falling in love with the pirate who saved her from drowning. The night before, we’d Netflixed Speed, where Sandra told Keanu that relationships based on extreme conditions never lasted, or something like that. As Jessica mused about pirates and ripped bodices, I’d taken the book out of her hand and pushed up her gown. With my mouth against her hot pussy, I’d pulled my best Keanu. “Then we need to just base it on sex.”
That was how it had been between us. Easy. Fun. Deep. Sensual.
Just like it was with the goddess. Dammit. Her name was Zoe. I needed to start thinking of her by her name. I needed to stop thinking about the way her fingers felt in my beard, the way her nails scratched at my back. I needed to stop thinking about how exquisite her mouth was, how soft her lips felt. How sweet her tongue tasted as it twisted with mine. The way she looked at me, those soft green eyes seeming to see into the darkest corners of my soul. Because it was possible Zoe saw me as her knight in shining armor, and I was about the polar opposite of a white knight.
I tossed another log on the fire, watched the fireworks of sparks explode and settle.
Her sounds. God, the little moans and whimpers she made went straight to my cock. There was something so innocent about her, which was a juxtaposition to how sexy she was. Full breasts, small waist flaring into full hips and ass. Long legs with skin so smooth it looked like silk, beckoning to be touched. Pillowy lips that didn’t look injected. And those eyes… damn. In the kitchen, I’d been seconds away from lifting her onto the counter and driving straight into her tight body.
We would fit together perfectly, I already knew that.
Just as I’d known Jessica was mine the instant I saw her.
With Jess, it wasn’t insta-love. It was insta-rightness. Insta-knowing. Insta-home.
I had known with a bone-deep certainty that Jessica was meant to be in my life. Sure, I had needed to get to know her, and she needed to get to know me and there were things that tested our patience or drove us to the brink of madness. But Jess had been the only woman I’d been willing to navigate that path with. The only one with whom I’d been able to see past the bad that life had to offer and focus on the good. Then… bam.
She was gone, and two years later, the same feelings of rightness were back.
And forgive me, Jessica, I wanted them. I wanted them so fucking bad.
I dropped my face in my hands. That was the bitch of it all. I felt like I was cheating, felt like I needed to explain. But there was no one to explain it to. No one to forgive me or say it was okay.
As dawn broke, lighting the cabin in tiny increments, I pushed to my feet to stand at the window. Damn. Blizzard was an understatement. The entire world was a sea of white, mounds of it nearly reaching the top rail of my expansive deck. It was still snowing hard, and the sky didn’t indicate it would be stopping anytime soon. We could get another foot from the looks of it.