by Nikki Chase
My heart races, making it hard for me to take off my clothes as my fingers grow unsteady. But eventually, I manage to shed my shirt again and wrap the large, warm, soft blanket around myself.
I take a seat in front of the fireplace, letting my skin soak up the heat again.
“Are you done?” Eli asks.
“Yeah.”
I don’t turn around when I hear the floor planks creak under his weight. Somehow, I know he’s about to join me.
Eli drags a big bear rug toward the fireplace and sits down on it. “The rug is much softer than the floor,” he says. That’s an invitation, I guess.
I plant my butt on the animal pelt. It really is soft. It’s warm, too.
“Why are you sitting so far away from me?” he asks.
“It’s a big rug.” I shrug.
“I won’t bite.” Eli cocks me a crooked smile. “Are you afraid your city boyfriend will be angry if you get too close to some dirty, country bumpkin?”
“No.”
“Is there a husband who might get angry about it?” Eli asks.
“I’m not married.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No.” I don’t know why I give him an honest answer. If I really want to make it seem like I’ve been doing well in the city without him, I should tell him what a great time I’m having with my sophisticated, city boyfriend instead.
Eli’s lips spread into a small smile, but it doesn’t escape my attention.
That answer pleases him, for some reason. Is he feeling smug because he thinks I haven’t gotten over him? Or, does he want me for himself?
Don’t be silly, I scold myself.
If Eli wanted me, he could’ve had me. There was a time when I would’ve dropped everything to be with him.
Things are different now. It’s been seven years. We’re different people.
Besides, have I seriously forgotten what I did yesterday in front of him, how much of a fool I had made myself?
My mind thinks back to the cupcakes he bought yesterday. It looked like he was a regular at Bertha’s shop, too. Surely, he doesn’t buy them all for himself.
I certainly can’t imagine a rugged mountain man like Eli to be a big fan of Bertha’s sweet, pretty, little cupcakes, even if they’re delicious.
“Why is that?” Eli asks.
“Huh?”
“Why no boyfriend?”
I shrug.
“I see.” He nods.
“What do you see?”
“You’re still chasing your dream career, huh?”
“Something like that.” Partly to change the subject and partly to satisfy my curiosity, I ask, “Is there a wife who might get angry about a naked girl being alone here with you?”
Eli chuckles and shakes his head.
“Girlfriend?”
“Nope.” Eli gazes at me. A reflection of the flame dances in his eyes as his lips curl up into a smile.
“Why is that?”
Eli shrugs.
“You’re what, thirty-two?” I ask, knowing full well how old he is. “Most people are already married at twenty-five in Ashbourne—or so my mom tells me every time we speak on the phone.”
Eli bursts out laughing, filling the log cabin with the happy sound. “So, your mom is anxious to see grandchildren, I take it?”
“Hey, it’s my turn to be asking questions, Eli,” I protest playfully. “Why aren’t you married? Don’t you believe in love?”
“I do.” Eli smiles. For a moment, I think I see a flicker of sadness in his eyes, but it disappears in an instant.
“I don’t.” I avoid his gaze and stare at the flame, afraid of what he might see in my eyes.
The room is quiet except for the crackle from the fireplace and the ticking of the clock.
“It didn’t use to be that way,” Eli breaks the silence.
“What?”
“You used to believe in love,” he says, his voice so gentle I might forget how cruel he can be. He speaks as if he wasn’t the one who broke my heart, all those years ago.
“Yeah, well, I grew up,” I say the words casually even though my chest tightens.
“Things were different then,” Eli says.
“Yeah, they were.” I speak through the lump in my throat. Oh, how things have changed.
“Do you ever miss those days?” he asks.
I hesitate. All the time, I want to say. But instead, I ask him, “Who doesn’t miss their younger days?”
Eli lets out another amused chuckle. His eyes take on a faraway look, like he’s seeing an old film reel play in his mind. “You’re right. I know I do. I miss those days all the time.”
“You do?” I ask, genuinely surprised. I stare at him.
“Of course.” He fixes his gaze on me. “Remember how we used to come here all the time, whenever Angela was busy with something else?”
“Yeah …” I carefully answer. We’re getting into dangerous territory here. I can feel my heart beating faster, just like it did whenever Eli was around.
“I was supposed to be ‘hiking,’ and you were ‘at the library,’” he says, drawing air quotes with his fingers as he laughs softly. He gazes at me with the same tenderness I saw in those stolen moments.
“Yeah,” I say again as my heart jumps to my throat.
“I loved those moments. I loved being here with you. Just you and me.”
Eli’s deep baritone sends vibrations straight to my heart. How can he still make me feel this way after all these years?
With just a few words, he has transported me back to a simpler time, a happier time. A time when we had a chance to be us, no matter how limited.
Eli sits up and leans closer, making my heart hammer in my rib cage. I almost can’t believe it when he puts his big, warm hand on my cheek and caresses my skin. He tilts his head as he looks deep into my eyes like he can’t quite believe I’m here either.
“What are you doing to me, Sophia?” he asks softly. “Why does it feel like … like we’ve never left?”
I look up into his hypnotizing eyes, nuzzling into his hand. “You’re doing the same thing to me, Eli.”
“I remember everything.” He lightly runs his thumb over my lower lip. “I remember how these lips used to taste. They were the sweetest thing.”
My body remembers his touch, too. As soon as he starts to lean closer, my eyelids flutter shut. I don’t even think about it.
Then, I wait. I wait for what I know is coming, what I’m sure must be coming. I know because it has happened hundreds of times before in real life and thousands of times more in my dreams and fantasies.
When Eli’s lips brush against mine, they feel firm. Smooth. Hot. His arms wrap around me, more comforting than the blanket I’m wearing and warmer than the flame burning beside us.
As his mouth teases me, coaxing me to respond, I part my lips and let him sweep inside. He traces my bottom lip with his tongue and nibbles on it, harder and harder until it start to hurt. He has always enjoyed mixing pleasure and a little bit of pain.
“A little pain enhances pleasure,” he used to say.
My senses reel as he grabs the bottom of my skull, pulling my hair. He starts a fire burning in my body; he makes me hotter than the fireplace ever could. He heats me up from the inside.
When Eli pulls away, a smile plays on his wet lips.
His gaze is hungry, predatory. His touch is forceful. But, what really makes my emotions wage war in my chest is this gentleness pouring out of him, flooding my whole being.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispers, his breath softly falling on my skin.
And just like that, the magic is broken. Despite the yearning in my soul, I put my hands on his broad, brawny shoulders and push him away.
“I … I’m sorry. I need to go,” I say.
It would be easy for Eli to stop me. He’s so much bigger, so much stronger than me. But, he lets go, even as he shoots me a thousand questions with his dark eyes.
“I need to …” I get up. The bearsk
in rug feels soft under my feet. I want to stay, but I need to go. I tell Eli, “I should take a bath before I go home.” I catch a glimpse of my wet clothes lying on the floor by the fireplace and add, “Maybe my clothes will be dry by the time I’m done.”
With that vague explanation, I dash to the bathroom. My head spins as I shut the door behind me, lean back on it, and let myself slide to the floor.
Eli didn’t see that there was anything wrong, but I feel like I’m about to shatter into tiny pieces, the way I did when he left me the first time.
Tears stream down my face. Before Eli can hear me sobbing, I turn on the tap, and the tub starts to fill with hot water.
If I’m not careful, I won’t survive this. I may be older and wiser, but apparently I still haven’t developed immunity to my biggest weakness. I can’t go through what Eli put me through seven years ago.
A big, old wound gapes open. And all it took was a few minutes alone with Eli.
Get a grip, Sophia.
Sophia
I wipe my wet hands on a towel and check my phone for the ninety-third time.
I keep hoping Eddie will call, but he still hasn’t. Damn it, what’s taking him so long?
Here’s my ideal scenario: Eddie calls while I’m still in the bath; I put on my dry clothes and leave the cabin; I meet Eddie by the car where he fixes whatever’s wrong with that piece of junk; I drive off, never to see Eli again.
But, I’ve been in the tub for more than an hour, and the phone hasn’t even beeped once. It must’ve been two … three hours since I made that first call to Eddie. I’m starting to think he won’t even call back today.
What will I do if that happens?
I’ll have to call my parents to pick me up although they may not be able to do that. Mom has never driven out of town in her life, and Dad’s eyesight has been getting worse and worse, especially at night. Since it is the dead of winter, it’ll probably be dark outside by the time they close up the coffee shop.
Or, at the very worst, I can ask Eli to drive me back into town—he has already offered to give me a lift. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to be stuck in a car alone with him, but it’s only about ten miles; it’s probably okay … right?
Yeah. I’m worrying too much. I’ll be fine. If I can stop myself from kissing Eli again, everything will be fine.
I can do that. I’m a capable young woman who has achieved most of her career goals by the age of twenty-five. I’ll be okay.
That said, I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss since I ran away from Eli like a coward. For the fifty-seventh time, I run a fingers over my lips, remembering the way Eli felt.
This memory is more recent than all the other Eli-related ones that constantly haunt my mind. I remember every detail—his strong arms around my shoulders, his hot breath on my skin, his lips claiming mine …
Every time I breathe, I inhale his scent into my lungs. It’s musky. Woody. Manly.
This place—everything about it reminds me of him.
It doesn’t surprise me, of course. Eli and I have probably done it in every room in this cabin, including in this bathroom while both of us were soaking inside this very bathtub.
I remember stretching out while Eli spread my legs apart, slid his fingers into me, and rubbed all the delicious, secret spots inside me. He knew exactly where to touch, how hard, and for how long. I wonder if he still does …
I remember my body trembling so much the hot water rippled all around me, washing over me again and again like my orgasms.
I remember getting up to dry myself off, grabbing a towel and stopping in my tracks as I caught a glimpse of Eli’s face. Even though I had just swallowed his cum, his cock was rock hard as his gaze roamed all over my wet, naked body.
“Like what you see?” I asked him back then.
Eli smirked. Desire was etched into his features. He knew I could see it on his face. He got up and pulled me against his hard chest, pressing his cock against my ass.
He didn’t have to say anything. We just started to make love again, knee-deep in soap water.
Our frantic movements sloshed the liquid around, but we didn’t care. We were too wrapped up in lust.
His hands were on my tits, around my neck, and pulling on my hair. I pressed my palms against the wet, tiled wall to keep my balance as he thrust in and out of me.
My core clenches as memories flood my mind. I yearn for him, but I know I can never have him again. Not even if he wants me. Not if I want to keep my sanity.
So, just like I’ve always done for the past seven years, I settle for something I can have. Something I can always have.
My hand travels south until it reaches the juncture of my legs. My fingers find my pussy lips, already slick despite being underwater.
“You’re wet,” I hear Eli say in my mind, his voice fresh in my memory after seeing him only moments ago.
My fingers are too skinny to be his, but my imagination fills in the blanks.
I think about all those times he reached inside my pants, his fingers teasing me through my panties, a smirk spreading on his handsome face because he knew how much I wanted him.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the bathtub. In my fantasy, he’s sitting cross-legged on the other side, pulling my legs over him, the crook of my knees brushing against his thighs underwater.
“Spread your legs for me,” he says in that voice I can never resist.
My face heats up, and I know it’s not just because of the hot water. He stares at me so intently I get self-conscious.
“I love the way your tits peek through the surface.” He reaches over to give them a squeeze. “They fit so perfectly in my hands,” he says.
I bite my bottom lip to stifle a moan as I push a finger inside me … and then two. They’re poor substitutes for Eli’s thick, long ones, but they’ll have to do.
I thrust my hips forward, pressing myself against the bottom of my palm. Eli’s hand would be bigger, rougher, harder. His skin is calloused from years of work—at least, it used to be; I haven’t asked him if he’s still gathering wood from the local forest and turning it into furniture.
But, who cares, right? This is a fantasy, after all. It doesn’t have to be accurate.
I frown in concentration as I stave away intrusive thoughts about what’s real and what’s fantasy.
Back then, Eli knew exactly how to handle my body, how to manipulate my senses until I shattered under his touch. I imagine him pressing insistently on a sweet spot inside me and smiling as my eyes plead with him desperately.
“You want to come?” imaginary Eli asks, his eyes gleaming with a dark lust.
“Yes, please,” I answer in my head, doing my part in this make-believe conversation.
“I’ll make you come. But, you’ll have to do what I say.”
“Yes …”
My hand works furiously underwater, causing ripples to form on the surface, lapping against my skin. My arousal builds and builds until finally, I reach my peak. I let go and feel my body quiver on its own.
A small moan escapes my lips, followed by heavy sighs. In panic, I remember there’s only one door separating me from Eli, and sounds echo in this bathroom.
My toes reach for the tap and turn on the water—hopefully, that’s enough to cover any noises I make and keep Eli in the dark about my secret fantasies.
I’d like to keep them secret. Because as much as I still … have feelings for Eli, and even though he obviously would have no problem restarting our physical relationship, that would be the worst thing I could do in this situation.
I can’t risk another heartbreak—not from Eli. I wouldn’t survive it.
And, I can’t let my problem affect him either. He used to tell me what he wanted, what his dream life would look like, and I know now that I won’t be able to give him that.
My orgasm ruined and forgotten, I wipe my hands on the towel again to check for any news from Eddie.
I press the button
on my phone and sigh in frustration when I see there’s no new notification at all. But then, I notice the little icon at the top of the screen. There’s no signal in here.
That’s weird. I remember getting pretty good reception when I first entered the bathroom.
I drain the bathtub and rinse myself off, making sure to wipe the slickness away from between my legs.
When I turn off the shower, I faintly hear Eli’s voice from outside.
Is he talking to me?
I prick my ears up to listen. His voice stays low, and he keeps talking. He’s probably talking to someone else although I can’t hear a second voice.
Could that be Eddie? Maybe he decided not to call me and just came straight here instead.
I dry myself off and wrap the towel around my body. Ugh. Why didn’t I remember to bring my clothes in here with me?
Yes, they were wet, but at the very least, I could’ve grabbed a shirt from Eli’s wardrobe. I know it would fit me like a loose, short dress.
Instead, I only have this towel … and the blanket.
There’s no way around it now. I’ll have to walk out of here in nothing but a towel.
Checking my reflection in the fogged-up mirror, I realize my face is flushed, too, from the hot water and from the orgasm I just gave myself.
Will Eli notice? Even if he does, will he do anything?
Sophia
I crack the door open and tiptoe out of the bathroom. If I’m quiet enough, maybe I can grab my clothes from beside the fireplace and get dressed before Eli or Eddie sees me.
It’s not difficult to go unnoticed, though. Outside, the snowfall has not only grown heavier, but the wind is howling, too.
Even if I have to get caught by Eli, I’m suddenly glad I’m safe and warm in his cabin.
“Are you sure there’s no way to …” Eli lets his sentence hang in the air.
There’s no response from whoever he’s talking to, and I can’t see him from where I’m standing.
As I walk quietly closer to the fireplace, I realize there’s no one else in the cabin but Eli and me. He’s talking on the phone.
Eli is standing by the window, looking outside while holding the receiver of the old, yellow, corded landline phone to his ear.
Who is he speaking with? Has he called Eddie himself? Has he realized that I’m not sleeping with him, so he wants me out as soon as possible, too?