by Penny Dee
I knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Hypothermia was swift. Removing her coat, I sat her down beside the fire and grabbed a blanket from the sofa and pulled it on top of us. I held her against me and she shook in my arms.
“It’s okay,” I tried my best to sound soothing.
She nodded and clutched my shirt, pressing her face to my chest. But her trembling was getting worse and I knew she had inhaled a lot of water.
“I’m going to run you a bath, okay.”
“N-no,” she stammered, clutching me tighter.
“It’s okay Z, you’re going to be fine. But I need to get you warm and a bath is the best way.” I didn’t tell her about needing to ring for an ambulance. I’d heard about people drowning after being pulled from the water because they had breathed in too much water and later died from it. But I didn’t want to scare her.
I brushed my hand across her face, suddenly aware of how smooth and beautiful her skin felt to touch.
“I’ll only be gone for a moment,” I said gently, not wanting to let her go but knowing how important it was to get her temperature back up.
I left her in front of the fire and went to the small bathroom in the little alcove off from the kitchen. I dropped to my knees by the tub, praying the heating system my granddad had designed to stop the water pipes from freezing over worked, and felt a rush of relief when warm water burst from the tap.
While I waited for it to fill I attempted to phoned the ambulance but at some stage the blizzard had taken out the phone lines.
Fuck.
Okay. We were in this alone but we would be fine because maybe I had miscalculated how long she’d been under and perhaps she hadn’t inhaled as much water as I’d originally thought. And I would bring her body temperature back up and she wouldn’t die from hypothermia.
I knelt down next to her as she shivered by the fire.
We were going to get through this. And we were going to get through this together.
“I need to get you out of your wet clothes and into the bath, okay? It will help get you warm.”
She looked up at me, her eyelashes still dripping with water, and nodded.
“Is this y-your way of getting me n-naked?” she joked weakly, a small grin tugging on her pale lips.
I smiled at her. Relieved she wasn’t as rattled as she could be. Winking, I said, “Well, I’ve already seen your rack.”
She chuckled softly which unfortunately set off a coughing fit. Kneeling next to her I rubbed her back until the coughing subsided and she could catch her breath. Then because her numb legs refused to work, I carried her over to the tub and stripped off her wet clothes until she was in nothing but her bra and . . . damn it, was she wearing a thong?
A lace thong?
I forced all thoughts of her underwear out of my head.
Well, I tried to. But it was kind of hard when her panties were barely there. And to be honest, if I wasn’t so worried about her well-being, I would outwardly groan at how sexy as fuck they were because mentally I was in the midst of a visual orgasm. And don’t even get me started on her ass.
But this wasn’t the time. And I didn’t let my eyes go there as I lifted her up and gently placed her in the warm water, careful to ease her in slowly so it didn’t hurt her skin. Her eyes rolled back and she moaned. “Oh, God, that’s good,” she whispered.
I was relieved. But hell, she needed to stop moaning like that.
I knelt next to the bath keeping my hand in the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. Mackenzie would be numb so the last thing I wanted was to burn her. Color was returning to her lips and her skin didn’t look so sickly white. But her chin still quivered as she settled into the warm water.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, watching her. Trying to ignore the look of bliss forming across her face.
She nodded and shivered at the same time. “I’m going to be okay. If I can just get warm.”
She sat in the center of the tub, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her head fell back exposing her glorious white throat to me, and she closed her eyes.
“How’s your breathing?”
“It’s good.”
“Are you sure?”
She opened one eye to me and gave me a tired smile. “I know you’re worried. But I’m not going to drown on you, Jake. I didn’t inhale that much water. It stunned me more than anything.”
“When I pulled you out . . . it looked like you weren’t breathing.”
“Maybe it was shock.” She smiled up at me. “Jake, you don’t need to worry about me. I am feeling better by the minute.”
Color had started to return to her complexion and her eyes had their sparkle back.
“You know what would be really good?”
“What?”
“Hot cocoa and sleep.”
I wasn’t sure if sleep was such a good idea. Was I supposed to keep her awake?
But hot cocoa I could do. In fact, I was kind of an expert at it.
While I made hot cocoa in the kitchenette next to the bathroom, Mackenzie added more hot water to the tub and sank lower into the water, resting her head against the porcelain. Again with the moaning. Every time she made those noises I felt them all the way along my dick. What the fuck was wrong with me? The poor girl had fallen into the lake, almost drowned, and all I could think about was what I would do to her to make her moan even louder.
I had officially entered douche territory.
To stop myself from being such an ass I busied myself with the hot cocoa. My mom taught me how to make it as a kid and it was the best hot cocoa this side of the border. But I hadn’t made them in more than two years. In fact, the last time I’d had one had been my last trip to Canada, a couple of weeks before the . . . I shook off the thought just as the tight squeeze of heartache spread across my chest, and grabbing the chocolate flakes from the pantry I finished off the hot cocoa masterpieces.
But when I walked into the bathroom and saw Mackenzie I was stalled by how beautiful she looked, and something in me stirred and tilted, and changed.
Oh, hell. Was this chick getting to me?
It was one thing to think about how hot she was, and maybe how good it would be to feel her underneath me. But beautiful?
What the fuck was happening to me?
I didn’t want to let anyone in. I didn’t deserve it. Not after what I’d done.
But this girl—
“Jake?” Mackenzie’s voice brought me back. “Are you okay?”
It took me a moment to realize I was standing there like a psycho, clutching her hot cocoa in my hand.
I handed her the mug. “Call me if you need anything.” And with that I walked out of the bathroom and sat at the table where I poured myself a stiff bourbon.
Things were changing.
I was changing.
* * *
After her bath and hot cocoa, Mackenzie dried off and slipped on another one of my flannel shirts and a pair of thick, woollen socks. She still shivered and hugged a blanket around her as I helped her from the bathroom to the bed. As she lay down, she trembled.
“It’s so c-cold.” Her fingers curled into the front of my shirt and with a small tug she pulled me down to her.
She said she was okay but I still wanted her to get medical attention.
“Ssssh.” She placed her finger across my lips and it was this simple move that stole my resolve. She blinked up at me. “I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor. I just need you to hold me.”
Such a simple request. Yet my heart banged against the wall of my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my bare chest.
“You’re so warm,” she murmured, her breath a gentle whisper against my skin. My body filled with a crazy amount of need to be closer to her. Which was impossible, because any closer and I’d be inside her.
Damn. I had not just thought that.
Yet, according to the action taking place in my sweatpants, I had.
I squee
zed my eyes closed to keep the thoughts out of my head. She needed to be held. Not felt up.
But tell that to my body. While my brain struggled to remain chivalrous, my body had other ideas.
I was a man.
A man who hadn’t been with a woman in almost a year.
And now I was lying next to one of the most attractive—most annoyingly incredible—women I had ever met, and her beautiful body was all pressed up against me. Jesus, this was going to give me a serious case of blue balls.
She shuddered against me again and instinctively I tightened my arms around her.
I ran a hand across her cheek to tangle in her hair, pulling her head tighter against me and she moaned.
I bit back a groan. I wanted her to touch me but at the same time I didn’t. Because I didn’t know how much restraint I had to not touch her back. But her warmth, it engulfed me, and sucked me closer to her until I reached for her. I felt her flinch. Heard her moan as my fingers found her hipbone and tentatively rested against the smooth curve. She pressed the palm of her hand against my chest, her fingers splayed across muscle, and then slid her arm around me as she murmured something inaudible against my chest. I could feel her body waking up against mine, but mine was already wide-awake and screaming at me to touch this woman.
The warmth surrounding us was incredible. Intoxicating. Filling my mind with light. Hope. Peace. My heart was a wild cat in my chest.
She was so warm and her skin was so soft . . . and, Jesus, I hadn’t touched a woman in so long.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered against my chest. And then she pulled back to look at me. Her shivering had stopped and the intimacy of what we were doing crackled between us. Her lips gently parted and she sighed, realizing what was happening.
“Jake,” she whispered.
She didn’t move away and I was seconds away from leaning down and kissing her. Minutes away from climbing between her legs and doing all the things I shouldn’t want to do to her but desperately did. But a log exploded in the fireplace and the noise filled the room, breaking the spell. Our eyes met again, and the red-hot desire I had seen in her beautiful brown eyes a few moments ago eddied like the tide.
“I’m so tired,” she murmured.
I smiled down at her and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to my chest.
“You should rest.” With one hand I held her to me, while the other tenderly stroked her shoulder. Within minutes her breathing slowed and she was asleep.
While I was wide awake and reeling at how much I wanted this woman.
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
Mackenzie
I don’t know what woke me up. But the moment I opened my eyes, I realized the space beside me was empty. It was dark in the cabin, except for the soft glow of the fire. Sitting up I saw Jake in one of the dining chairs across the room, wearing nothing but jeans, his chest and feet bare. He was turned away from the fire and the glow of flames lit the deep contours of his muscular back.
He stared off into space as he absentmindedly played with something in his hand, flipping it end to end on the table.
It took me a moment to realize it was a closed straight razor. Like a barber would use.
I sat up. “Jake?”
He turned at the sound of my voice and the twirling of the razor stopped. “Hey, sorry if I woke you.”
“Is everything okay?”
When he didn’t move or answer me I pulled back the covers and climbed out of the bed.
Jake stared off into space again and the razor twirling resumed.
I went to him and he looked up at me, his sad, beautiful eyes tracking my every move. As I put my hand over his I met his gaze and something buzzed between us.
I became excruciatingly aware of his bare stomach and the heavily carved muscles and deep V disappearing beneath his jeans. I became aware of the flex and bulge of his strong biceps and the way his solid pectorals were deepened in shadow and as smooth as polished stone.
I also became aware of how his pulse throbbed against his throat as he gazed up at me with eyes full of unhappiness.
Without another thought, I slid onto his lap to straddle him and he reached around to secure his hands around my hips. Using all of my self-restraint, I ignored the fact that the denim of his jeans and the barely-there fabric of my panties were all that separated our bodies. But it was damn near impossible when the most intimate parts of me brushed against the hard lump of his zipper. And he was warm. Oh, so warm.
I laced my hands behind his neck and looked deep into his eyes. The infinite sadness I saw there made my heart swell with pain. In that moment I wanted to take that pain away. More than anything in the world, I wanted to take all his pain from him.
My eyes dropped to his beard and I remembered what he said about it—that it was another way he shielded himself from the world that had done nothing but take from him over the past two years.
Yet now he was sitting here with a straight razor in his hand and I wondered if he was contemplating shaving his beard off.
I touched him gently.
“Do you want me to shave you?” I asked softly.
He hesitated, his sad eyes searching mine for a moment and then without a word, he nodded.
“Okay,” I whispered and reached for the shaving cream.
I had never shaved anyone before.
I had never wanted to.
But now, doing this for Jake, it was one of the most erotic encounters of my life.
There was something incredibly intimate and loving about it. Sitting on his lap. Gently coating his face in white cream and then delicately wiping it smooth with the blade. I took my time, careful not to cut him or to miss a single strand of hair. I could feel his breath on my skin, and those bright, penetrating eyes that never once left my face.
I paused to put down the razor and pick up the towel off the table, and the little change in direction sent pleasure shooting through me, giving me a glimpse of what was waiting for me if I just gave in to my body’s sudden need. But I wasn’t going to give in. No matter how much I needed the satisfaction. Because Jake was my client. And he was a beautiful, incredible man who had been wounded beyond belief, and didn’t need me complicating his life.
Using the towel, I gently wiped the left over shaving cream from his face but was stopped in my tracks by the beautiful face in front of me.
Clean-shaven and completely vulnerable, Jake Pennington was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
I sat back.
Speechless.
In that moment, every inch of my being wanted to kiss him. To touch him. To love him. The feelings were unexpected and completely foreign to me, but sitting there, intimately straddling him, I became lost in his beautiful face and couldn’t tear my eyes off him. I shivered and sucked in a deep breath to calm my bolting heart.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered as I reached up and touched a perfect eyebrow with my thumb, then trailed the backs of my fingers down his face to the sharp curve of his jaw.
He shifted beneath me slightly and a thousand tiny pulses tingled at the very core of me. The delicate fabric of my panties brushed against the hardness of his jeans and I shivered. My body was suddenly full of urges I couldn’t hide from him. I pressed gently against him a fraction more and my breath escaped me in a soft moan that was impossible to control.
Jake raised his beautiful eyes to me and they were dark and glassy, and full of heat. He wanted this. He wanted me to move against him, to move against the growing hardness behind the zipper of his jeans. His hands reached around to cup my hips, and shifted slightly. It put him right where I needed him to be and provided the perfect friction between us.
I began to slowly roll my hips and his lips parted with a gasp and his eyes begged me to keep going. Need tore through my veins.
“Jake . . .” I whispered his name shakily as every muscle in the most intimate part of me clenched and pulsed with unstoppable need. But his name was swallow
ed by the urgent moan escaping my mouth as convulsions gripped me. Heat and pleasure coiled and coursed through me. He was hard. So damn hard. And suddenly the rubbing wasn’t enough. I wanted him in me. Desperately. And my toes curled as I pushed down harder, my body feeling like a freight train, rushing toward an unknown destination and ready to take out anything that got in its way.
He moaned and I could see he would come undone if I kept moving against him. But I was already there. And with one slow grind against his hardness, my eyes clamped to his and I unravelled on top of him, dropping my head back as euphoria rushed through me and I came.
Bright light and pleasure erupted like lightning across the sticky plains of my brain and for one blissful moment I felt swept away on a sweet wave of bliss and not giving a damn about the consequences. Days of pent-up desire surged forth and I shuddered, moaning his name before falling against him like a ragdoll.
As the pleasure of my orgasm slowly eddied away, the cold reality of what I had just done prickled down my spine and I sat up straight. Renewed sensitivity made me flinch.
“Oh, my God, Jake, I’m sorry—”
But my words were lost as Jake sealed his mouth to mine in a hot, desperate kiss. With a deep moan he scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me across the room to the bed, where he lay me down and slid across me, his chest gleaming like cut stone in the shadows.
His eyes were dark as he said, “Let’s see if I can make that happen at least another two or three times.”
And without another word, he leaned down and kissed me hard.
* * *
Jake
It had been almost a year since I’d made love and I had no idea how I was going to make it last. But I was determined. Despite how good Mackenzie felt beneath me, I would not give in to the ecstasy. I meant what I’d said, I wanted to give her two or three more orgasms. Why? Because she looked so fucking amazing when she came and I wanted to hear and see her come and come again. So I was going to do my damndest to make it last. I would think of hockey, if I had to. I would do mathematical equations in my head or try to remember quotes from the Bible if it stopped me from blowing this. Forgive the pun.