Page 13 of Winter's End

My heart thudded in my chest as we entered the small building. The ceiling was a mere two inches from the top of my head, forcing me to duck around the beams of the front room.

The entrance led into an open concept space that featured a tiny kitchen on one side with only the bare essentials, and a round table and four chairs. A threadbare couch and coffee table sat in the middle of the room, centered on the stone fireplace I had seen from the outside, and three doors stood at the back of the room, leading to what I presumed were bedrooms and a bathroom.

The entire building couldn’t have been any larger than 800 square feet.

“This is your parents’ place?” I asked as I glanced at the black and white photos of smiling faces on the wall.

“My grandfather’s,” he replied as he blew off a cloud of dust from the coffee table and slumped onto the couch. “Just as comfy as I remembered.”

He wriggled his eyebrows and patted the seat beside him.

“Test it out for yourself.”

I sunk into the couch, surprised by its level of support for two big men, and laughed. “Comfy. When was the last time you were here?”

Shane leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “Ten years at least. Dad stopped coming here after Mom’s accident.” He grimaced. “It was too hard for her to get in and out of the road when her legs were bad. And then we just didn’t come again after that.”

Having watched my dad recover from his injuries in the last few months and knowing what that did to my own heart, I could only imagine what Shane would have gone through as a little kid. I instinctively reached for his hand.

“I’m sorry.” I searched his eyes, seeing a rare pain flicker through them. “That must have been hard.”

“It was,” he said simply. Bringing my hand up to his lips, he brushed a kiss onto my knuckles. “Winter really helped me through it.”

I shivered at the second kiss he placed on the back of my hand as I squeezed it tighter. “I’m glad you had her.”

“I’m glad, too.” He smiled lazily, his gray eyes filling with appreciation. “That woman’s my everything.”

“She’s no longer just your friend, is she?” I blurted, my face heating at my lack of chill. “You’re in love with her.”

“I might be.” His face turned thoughtful, and I was grateful my almost-accusation didn’t offend him. “Something’s … happening, and I don’t know what to make of it.”

He shifted on the couch, turning his body towards me. “And something’s happening with you, too.”

He tugged at my hand, still clasped in his, and pulled me forward into him. I could feel the warmth of his body heat despite the layers of plaid flannel we both wore. His distinct scent of pine tickled my nose, and I wanted to bury my face into his neck to smell more of him.

To taste him.

My cock thickened to the point of pain in my jeans.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words came out like a prayer as I peered deep into the eyes of the man currently holding my dick as his captive.

“Oh, baby.” He bit his bottom lip, gaze lingering on mine with hunger. “You will never need to ask my permission.”

I tentatively cupped the back of his neck, running my fingers through the thick strands of his silky hair, and pressed my lips to his. I licked the seam of his mouth, coaxing him to open up for me, unleashing the pent-up longing accumulated in the two weeks since we’d shared our moment at Haven’s Head.

Fuck, he felt good. So, so good.

I got lost in his kiss as he pulled me deeper into his arms. Our tongues battled for dominance as I chased the familiar Juicy Fruit flavor on his lips.

We became frenzied, desperate, as if someone could walk in on us at any moment and we’d be forced to pull apart.

Shane pushed my jacket off my shoulders, his lips not once leaving mine as he shed my outer layer. I reached to do the same for him, my hands tangling in his sleeves as I stripped off his coat and clumsily unbuttoned the long-sleeve shirt beneath.

The cabin was unheated and the air was cold, but there was nothing but fire between us. We could have been in an igloo and I wouldn’t have noticed the chill.

I spread my palms along the bare skin of his taut abs, relishing their smooth, solid warmth. Winter’s skin was beautifully soft and pliant. Shane was nothing but muscular, masculine strength.

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