Page 4 of His Stormy Seduction

Bonnie's full lips curve into a slow, satisfied smile, and I realize she's very much aware of the effect she's having. She holds my stare for a beat before moving toward the fire. I try not to openly ogle the gentle sway of her hips beneath that oversized flannel.

She lowers herself to sit cross-legged on the makeshift bedding I've laid out, leaning back on her palms. The movement makes the oversized flannel gape open to reveal one silky thigh all the way to her hip.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly bone dry. Get a grip, Blackwood.

"So..." I manage in a slightly strangled tone. "This big Summit shoot you're on. What's the, uh, concept?"

"The goal is to showcase the Silverpine Range's power,” she answers, wiggling her toes near the fire to warm them. “Both its terrifying, unforgiving side... and its majestic, awe-inspiring side. All those rugged, remote areas most normal people would never dare explore."

Her eyes gleam with an almost feverish light as she speaks. "I want my photos to make the viewer feel like they're witnessing nature at its most primal and elemental state. No filters, no taming of the wildness. Just pure, savage beauty."

I exhale a low breath, feeling that strange sense of reverence mixed with... something else. Intrigue? Respect? Hell, maybe a little fear at the sheer intensity blazing behind her eyes.

"You, ah... you want me to grab you a glass of water or something?" I ask.

One delicate brow arches as she says, "After that near-death experience, I was hoping for something a little stronger."

Her lips curve into a slow, seductive smile. A jolt of desire shoots through me as every fiber of my being yearns to cross that space and gather her soft, supple body against mine.

I force my gaze away. "Got it," I manage in a gravelly tone, turning toward the tiny kitchenette to put some space between us.

I uncap a bottle of amber liquid and pour two generous slugs into tin mugs. When I turn back around, Bonnie is exactly where I left her—stretched out on the floor, eyes gleaming in the firelight.

Clenching my jaw, I stride back over and extend one of the mugs toward her. "Here you go."

She takes it without a word, holding my stare as she brings the tin to those full lips and takes a sip. Her throat works in a slow swallow, and I feel an almost painful surge of lust as I track the movement, imagining how those soft lips would feel wrapped around...

I cut off that dangerous train of thought with a harsh inhalation, turning to collapse onto the armchair with my own mug in a white-knuckle grip.

We sit in tense silence, the only sounds the crackle of flames and the driving rain against the roof. I take a swig of the whiskey in a vain attempt to dull my body's acute awareness of hers. The burn does little to quell the raging inferno of need, but it does manage to momentarily loosen my clenched jaw.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I finally find my voice. "You know... most people would have the good sense to get the hell away when a storm like this kicks up."

Bonnie shrugs, clearly unimpressed by the attempted rebuff. "And miss out on capturing Boulder Creek in all its ferocious glory? No way. That kind of power... the chaos and unpredictability of it..." She trails off, eyes gleaming as she gives a slow shudder. "God, there's nothing else like it."

"Yeah, well that kind of unpredictability is what gets people killed," I growl, even if I do, at least on some level, admire the reverent way she speaks about her work. "I've seen way too many daredevils like you who thought they could tame the wild, only to wind up another fatality statistic."

Her expression shifts, the playful, seductive light in those eyes dimming slightly as they search my own with sudden intensity. As if trying to peer into the darkest recesses of my soul and unravel the knot of pain and trauma that still lingers there.

After a heavy beat, she sits up and leans forward slightly, the oversized shirt gaping to reveal the soft swell of her cleavage. Not an overtly sexual move, yet still utterly captivating.

"I'm not just some thrill-seeking adrenaline junkie," she says in a low, earnest tone. "What I do, how I see the world through my lens... it's more than just a rush. It's my passion."

She pauses, giving me a look that has the breath stalling in my lungs.

"I get that it seems reckless and crazy to an outsider. Hell, maybe it is a little. But that drive to capture the raw, savage beauty of nature..." Bonnie trails off again with a soft, wistful sigh, her fingers toying idly with the hem of the flannel shirt.

My eyes are inexorably drawn to the movement, mesmerized. Her hands look so delicate and soft... I can only imagine how they'd feel ghosting over my skin, tracing the ridges and grooves of my battle-worn body.

A sudden crack of thunder has me violently flinching, the spell abruptly shattering. Bonnie, too, startles slightly before giving a soft huff of laughter.

"Sounds like this storm has no intentions of letting up anytime soon," she murmurs. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while.”

With a grunt, I pull myself up from the chair and move to grab another couple of logs from the pile by the door, tossing them onto the crackling flames. As I straighten, my gaze drifts back over to where Bonnie is sprawled on the makeshift bedding. The firelight dances across her sun-kissed skin, casting flickering shadows that accentuate every curve and swell. She's a goddamn vision—tousled hair, full lips slightly parted, shirt gaping to reveal tantalizing glimpses of softness and warmth.

My hands flex with the overwhelming urge to cross that space, gather her against me, and finally sate this primal hunger. To lose myself in the heat of her mouth, the satin glide of her skin against mine as I pin that powerful body beneath my own...

Just then, a deafening crack of thunder splits the air so violently that the entire cabin seems to shudder. We both startle, the spell abruptly shattering.

---