She reached up, undoing one button, then another. If this went where she hoped it would go, she would be careful with him, be careful of the baby…
Nearby an owl hooted, reminding her that they weren’t alone.
“Not here,” he said, his breath warm against her ear, sending more sizzles through her.
“Your cabin?” she asked.
When he paused, she knew that this was a make-or-break moment.
Somewhere along the way, she’d dropped his hat, so she used both hands to cup his head, making him look right at her.
“You make me so happy,” she said.
His gaze was unfocused, desire-ridden. “I do?”
“You always have.”
And she brought him down for another kiss, no matter where they were, no matter who might come upon them out here in the open.
He held her, clearly unable to stop, and Mina wanted so badly to call it love.
Just thinking about it, she lost her balance again, and he caught her, then lifted her into his arms, taking her the rest of the way to his cabin.
Chapter Five
Chet crashed through his cabin door, holding Mina, kissing her.
You make me so happy, she’d said.
And she’d meant it in a way that went beyond anything he’d ever had with anyone before.
That should’ve scared the life out of him, but how could it when he knew that here, with her in his arms, she really was everything he needed and he’d just been too afraid to admit it?
Her face was nuzzled against his neck while she held tight to him, her breath like the tiny beat of butterfly wings against his throat. The fluttering sensation echoed inside of him, except a hundred times faster.
When he got to the staircase that led to his loft bedroom, he eased her down until she stood on the first step, bringing them nearly face-to-face.
She leaned toward him, feverish, running her fingers through his hair. He remembered that his hat was somewhere outside, on the ground, but he didn’t really care.
“Mina,” he whispered, cradling her jaw with one hand, wanting to map every nuance of her face. First her cheekbones, curved and high, a work of art. Then her mouth.
She kissed the tip of his thumb. “This time, I want to wake up and see you in the morning, next to me.”
The last time had been a maelstrom of feeling and urgency, and he wanted more between them, too. Wanted it to last all night long.
He answered her by coasting his fingers down her neck, her collarbone. She gasped, leaning back her head, exposing the white of her throat in the near darkness. He could barely see her, but he knew her through and through, just by touch, by his desire and affection for her.
Affection, he thought while dragging his fingers lower, down, between her breasts. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to love anyone—trust was a part of love and he just didn’t have that in him anymore—but he would come closest to it with Mina.
He would give her everything but that deep, dark place inside of him that he would have to protect from pain, because he didn’t think he could take even an iota more of it.
She shivered as he traveled down the center of her upper stomach, but when he got to her belly, she grasped his wrist.
“Here,” she whispered, leading him back up to her breast.
His hand opened over its fullness. Damn it, before tonight, he’d forgotten how glorious it was to feel a woman. Feel Mina.
He braced one hand over her back, spread the other one over her breast, then used his fingertips to trace her nipple, which pebbled against her bra and blouse. Bending to her, he kissed her there, feeling the hard nub, rubbing his lips over it until she moaned.
A blast of heat made him realize that he was already hard, straining against his jeans. He used his tongue to lave her nipple, dampening her blouse, making her clutch at his shoulders.
Her breathing had turned to panting, his blood to a rush of molten lava, urging him on.
He pushed up her shirt, and he lowered himself, pressing his lips to her upper stomach. She inhaled harshly.
“Wait,” she said.
Then she was undoing the rest of her buttons, practically ripping off her blouse. He helped her, pushing off the material, leaving her in a lace bra that he could see in the night-shrouded room.
She made quick work of that, too, dropping it to the ground.
Seeing the blush of her nipples against the pale of her skin was too much for him, and he cupped both of her breasts. They were beautiful, plump and round. Perfect.
He put his attention on the one that he hadn’t kissed earlier, taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking, loving it while she whimpered.
Her little sounds drove him crazy, and he wrapped her in his arms, lifting her gently, bringing her to the top of the stairway to his bed—a span of pale quilt and mattress that welcomed them as he lay her down on it.