And in that moment, I was home.
It was a dizzy blur, the steps we took through the cabin to where the bed lay hidden in the shadows in the corner. The candlelight was dimmer here, the whole world seeming to turn its lights down to hum a distant shhh, giving us privacy and peace.
River only broke our kiss long enough to strip my sweater overhead, my hair tumbling out of the neck hole in a waterfall down my back. Chills raced from the cool air, from the feel of his hands on me, wrapping around my rib cage in a gentle squeeze before he moved for my sports bra next. He pulled it up and over my head, too, letting it fall to the floor.
His shirt came next, and then his briefs, his sweatpants, until he was fully naked and trembling in my grasp as he backed me up to the bed.
My back hit the quilt, the fabric cold against my hot skin, but that sensation was dull compared to the way my heart raced at the sight of River standing over me. He towered like a god, peeling my sweatpants off my hips, off one leg and then the other. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he did the same with my thong, and only when I was nude did he let his gaze rake over me.
I felt those eyes like big, calloused hands, working their way over my breasts, my navel, my thighs, and the little gap between them where I was already wet and throbbing for him. River’s throat was so tight I heard his next swallow, and a gentle shake of his head was all I got before he was climbing on top of me, maneuvering me up until my head was on the pillow and he was between my legs.
We both shuddered at the rush of heat from our bodies being together again, and River swept my hair from my face, kissing my jaw, my neck, my collarbone and back up until his mouth claimed mine.
There was no time to think, no time to second guess or let logic sneak its way in before River was balancing all his weight on one elbow, his other hand reaching down to hook my leg up his thigh. He pressed more weight into his knees, the tip of him sliding against my wet, warm entrance in a skating glide that had us both hissing with need.
I knew the feel of him, even after all these years. I knew the shape of his crown, the lean of his shaft, the exact lining of the vein that rippled up from his base. I knew how he would fill me even before he did, but when the flex of his hips brought us together, when he slipped inside me for the first time in four trips around the sun, I gasped, holding onto that breath like it was my last.
It was a searing fire, the way he stretched me, and yet it filled me with a current of pleasure all the same. I whimpered into his mouth and he caught that cry with a growl, with a demanding kiss, with a slight withdrawal before he rocked into me again, deeper.
My other leg lifted, ankles hooking behind him, hips bucking up to give him better access. I thought I felt those lips of his curl into a smile against mine before he slid into me again, harder this time, deeper still, and he picked up the pace, finding a rhythm.
Our bodies were slick where they met, my breasts sliding against his chest as he wrapped his arms up and under my back, hooking his hands on my shoulders. He held me there as he flexed again, and I felt the muscles of his ass working under my heels with every new thrust.
It couldn’t have even been a full minute of us being connected, and already, I was ready to fall apart.
But River flipped us, quickly, holding me to him to keep the connection. I unhooked my ankles just in time to land straddling him, and he sat up, back against the headboard, me in his lap.
His hands traced a trail down my shoulders, my arms, my hips, until he was grabbing my ass and helping me ride him. It didn’t matter how long had passed since we last touched, he still knew every way to please me.
He knew grabbing my ass like that, tilting his hips the way he was — it was in just the right way for my clit to catch the friction it so desperately wished for. He knew that when he yanked on me hard and my hands flew forward, finding the headboard on either side of him, it was the perfect angle to let that gentled curve of his cock reach all the right spots. And he knew when he leaned forward just enough to capture my left nipple in his mouth, sucking it between his teeth, that it was all I needed to combust.
I was wild in that moment, my hips bucking uncontrollably, thighs barely even moving me up and down anymore. Now, I rocked back and forth, feeling him deep, rubbing my clit until my orgasm caught light like a dying star. It ripped me apart from the inside out, shredding me inch by inch in the most ecstasy-filled demise.
I rode every wave of that death until I was spent, limp in his arms, heaving each new breath as if it took everything I had left in me just to give my body oxygen.
River slowed his pace, kissing my lips hard, bruisingly, until he dragged those lips and nipping teeth and sweeping tongue down my neck again. I was so limp and small in his arms that it didn’t take much effort for him to flip me over again, onto my stomach, with my ass in the air just the way I knew he liked it.
He slapped my ass as a reward for remembering, and I fisted my hands in the sheets as he lined up at my entrance, remembering all too well how deep he felt in this position. His hands slipped between the folds where my thighs met my hips, and in one full thrust, he filled me again.
“Fuck, Eliza,” he husked, slipping out just to slide back in again. “So wet. So fucking tight.”
He flexed in, again and again, picking up speed and groaning more with every new thrust. His hand splayed on my back, pushing me down even more into the sheets, and then he was riding me like a fucking horse, plowing into me. I cried out against the pain, but it was met with a searing pleasure that confused my senses.
I wanted to beg him to stop.
I wanted to beg him to never stop.
I didn’t have the chance to decide before he was ripping out of me, the loss so violent I shuddered beneath him, and then I felt his warm release painting my ass, my back, my shoulders and my thighs all at once.
I looked over my shoulder, watching him stroking his long, thick length as the last of his release pulsed out. It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, and I knew before we’d even cleaned up that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d make that man come for me tonight.
If it was up to me, that night would have lasted forever.
If it was up to me, the morning would have never come.
But it wasn’t up to me.
And when the sun finally found its way through those cabin windows, bright and blinding off the snow covering the ground outside, it would be the wake-up call I never wanted.
My head pounded me to consciousness the next morning, eyeballs throbbing beneath my lids until I was brave enough to creak them open.
I groaned when the first little ray of sunlight found me…and realized two things at the same time.
One, I was extremely warm — thanks to being sandwiched between Moose and River on the bed. Moose was on top of the quilt and River was underneath the sheets with me, his legs and arms tangled up with mine, our naked bodies stuck together and steaming.
Two, I was going to vomit.
I nearly fell on my face in my scramble out of the bed, twisting and turning until I freed each limb from the sheets. Moose barked at the commotion, and River groaned, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like are you okay, but I couldn’t be sure, because I had approximately four seconds to get to the bathroom.
I made it to the toilet just in time to drop to my knees and forfeit whatever I had left in my stomach, which wasn’t much else than booze. We’d eaten dinner so early, and then proceeded to get rip-roaring wasted the rest of the night, and my body was reminding me of those dire choices in every possible way this morning.
A long groan left me when I’d finished heaving, and I rested my cheek on the toilet, peeking up at the mass of man staring down at me.
River smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
“I hate you for making me take that shot of gin.”
He chuckled, lowering down to the ground next to me. It was then that I noticed the glass of something cloudy and orange in his hand, and two little c
andy-coated pills.
“Advil,” he explained. “And chase it with this.”
“What is it,” I asked, sitting up and taking the glass from him, inspecting the contents.
“My hangover cure.”
I arched a brow.
“Just trust me,” he insisted, and so I did, tossing the pills into my mouth and washing them down with the cure. It tasted like orange juice and saltwater, and I grimaced, choking down as much as I could manage before I gave up.
When I looked back at River, at the way his eyes were crawling over me, the way his lips were set in a soft smile, I realized what I’d somehow forgotten.
I was stark ass naked.
“God, look at me,” I said, curling in on myself. “A mess on Jesus’s birthday.”
River barked out a laugh, standing before he helped me up and back to the bed. We crawled in together, right next to a very happy Moose, who promptly licked my face in greeting.
Littered around the cabin was all the evidence of what had transpired last night. There were our half-empty glasses of spiked eggnog, and the two empty shot glasses we’d used to do our dares. The Christmas Blanket was in a heap by the fire, which had gone out overnight, and all the candles had burned down, or maybe River had blown them out.
The little radio still played Christmas music softly, and with just one look out the window, I could see the storm was over. It was still mostly cloudy, but the sun was shining through the silvery clouds.
My stomach was still unsettled when I looked at River, who had his head propped on his bicep, his eyes on me.
“So…” he said.
“So…” I echoed.
“We should probably talk.”
I swallowed. “About?”
A short laugh through his nose told me he saw right through me. “Well… after last night…” He shrugged. “I think we should maybe talk about what happens next. About what this means.”
Those words snapped me back to reality, and I sat up straighter in the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover my chest. I felt the panic zipping through me like live wires under my skin, and I took a deep breath too soothe my soul as best I could.
River sat up, too, watching me with bent brows now. “Eliza,” he said, not really as a question so much as a warning.
“Well…” I finally said, cheeks heating. “We… we had fun. We had a good night.” I paused. “Does it really have to mean anything?”
Even as the words formed on my tongue, I knew they were all wrong. But it was too late. I’d said them, and they hadn’t hung in the space between us for longer than a second before River rolled over onto his back, eyes on the ceiling and a short puff of a laugh from his chest.
“Of course.”
He shot up out of the bed before I could reach to stop him.
“I should have seen this coming,” he said, more to himself than to me. He shook his head, ripping open the top drawer of his dresser. He yanked on a fresh pair of boxer briefs, and then stomped into a pair of long johns. “Lucky for you, looks like it stopped snowing. We should have you out of here and on your way by lunch.”
He was already pulling on more clothing when my jaw fell open, and I watched the muscles of his back, blinking and trying to see my way out of the haze still pounding through my head. “Wait,” I tried, squeezing my eyes shut. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
When I opened my eyes again, River was still getting dressed.
“I just… I mean…” Every word I wanted to say was scrambled, and I found myself more and more confused as I tried to explain what I felt.
What did I feel?
“I’m leaving,” I reminded him. “I just… I came to surprise my family for Christmas, but I have a house-sitting job lined up in Corfu. And you…”
River stood straight after pulling socks on, his boots in his hands and his eyes landing hard on mine. “And I’m staying here. In boring Wellhaven,” he added, shaking his head before he gave me his back. “Where nothing that matters to you lives.”
My head snapped back as if he’d slapped me, and I rolled out of bed, wrapping the sheets around me. “Would you stop putting words in my mouth? You’re not even letting me speak.”
River spun on me. “Well, what could you possibly have to say that I’d want to hear right now, Eliza, if not that you’re back, you’re staying, and you want me?”
His chest puffed, up and down, his brows bent severely as he waited for me to respond.
I swallowed, trying to take a tentative step toward him, but as soon as I did, he backed away.
“Why is that the only option?” I asked softly.
I didn’t get the chance to get another word out before he scoffed, turning on me again and stomping toward the door. He yanked his coat off the rack, pulling it on one arm at a time.
“You’re such a stubborn ass!” I screamed, following him. “We were drunk. Wasted, okay? And… and…” I lost steam, waving my hand around, because the truth was that I didn’t know what to say about last night.
Had we been drunk? Yes.
Had we done what we did only because we were drunk?
Would I take it back now that I was sober?
I knew the answers to those questions, and yet still, panic was flittering through me like a thousand angry wasps, muddling my words and making it impossible for me to see straight.
“It’s fine, Eliza,” River said, and this time, his voice was more subdued. His eyes met mine only briefly before he tugged on his hat, his gloves. He paused, opening his mouth before he shut it again, and then he just shook his head and walked out the door.
He had to give it a hard shove with his shoulder, clearing the bit of snow that had been blown over the porch despite the roof that hung over it. But once he made it out, he closed the door behind him, leaving me in the wake of the cold air that had rushed in.
I pulled the sheet tighter around me, staring at the door for a long moment before I looked down at Moose who was whimpering softly at my feet.
“It’s okay, boy,” I said, bending to pet behind his ear.
I just wished I believed my own words.
River spent the morning shoveling snow, and I spent it trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me.
I made a pot of coffee, and considered taking him a Thermos of it, but knew by the way he was heaving snow that he wouldn’t take it. The same way I was sitting with my thoughts to try to work through them, he was working through his own by grunting and sweating and making his back ache.
So, I watched him from the window, holding my coffee between my hands more for warmth than to actually drink. And all the while, I stared at that boy, that man, the one I’d never expected to run into.
The one I’d run away from.
Nothing made sense. Finally, after years of wondering why he didn’t ask me to stay, why he didn’t come with me, why he didn’t fight for me at all, I knew the reason why.
And somehow, it made me hurt even more than when I didn’t know at all.
I was angry with him for not telling me, for stripping away my choice of what to do, had I known all the facts.
And I was thankful to him — for loving me enough to let me go, to shield me from the truth because he wanted my happiness more than his own.
And I was sad. God, I was so soul-crushingly sad. I was sad for the loss he had to endure on his own, for the years we’d lost that we could have been together, for the choice he had to make.
For the lack of choice he gave me.
I had plans. I had four weeks in Greece, and then a job on a river cruise in Austria, and then a three-month hiking trip along the southwest coast of the United Kingdom.
I had a new life now, and whether River had good intentions when he set me about it or not, he had chosen not to be a part of it. And now… now he wanted me to… to what?
I was only supposed to make a pit stop in Wellhaven.
I was only supposed to be here long enough to hug my family and have a little pie.<
br />
I was not supposed to get stuck in a cabin with my ex-husband, and I was certainly not supposed to sleep with him.
He’d ruined everything.
And now, I had a new longing in my gut, one I hadn’t felt in so long that I truly thought I was over him. Over us.
But had I really ever lost it?
Or was I just trying to deny its existence, to pretend I was okay for the sake of moving on?
My thoughts whirled in a vicious storm all morning like that, tossing me in waves between anger and sorrow until I felt nothing but washed up and shredded.
River dragged himself inside somewhere around one, shaking the snow off him as best he could on the porch before he came inside. A little trail of cigarette smoke followed him in, and he stripped off his hat and coat, hanging them by the fire before his gaze finally found me.
“Sidewalk’s clear, and I dug your car out, too. Skidder just came through with his snowplow. It’s not as big or as good as the city ones, but it’ll be a while before they make it out here.” River looked out the window. “Anyway, he’s got some crew coming behind him with sand to try to keep the roads drivable, at least for a while. So, you should be good to go.”
His eyes met mine briefly, and then he stalked over to the kitchen, pouring himself a finger of whiskey and throwing it back.
My rib cage shrank three sizes, the pressure so vicious on my lungs that I nearly keeled over. But instead, I crossed my arms over my chest to soothe it as much as I could, walking into the kitchen and leaning a hip against the counter.
I don’t want to go.
I can’t stay.
Last night didn’t mean anything.
Last night meant everything.
I don’t know what to do.
Please, tell me what to do.
“River…” I said, and he braced his hands on the counter before looking sideways at where I stood.
His eyes were bloodshot and glossy, and just one look from him stole any words I might have had forming.
“Come on,” he said, standing. “You get your coat. I’ll get your bag.”
The Christmas Blanket: A Second-Chance Holiday Romance Page 7
