Cabin Fever

by Annabelle Costa

  “Hello, Natalie, dear,” Mrs. Belding says. She’s frowning at Jake.

  “Hi, Mrs. Belding,” I say. I look at Jake, who is still fairly imposing even when clean-shaven. “This is Jake.”

  Jake flashes a grin and holds out his hand to her. She looks down at his large, deeply calloused hand with the nub for a pinky finger and takes a step back. I’ve never seen her look so frightened as when she finally takes his hand. “Nice to meet you,” Jake says.

  “Likewise,” she manages.

  I’d like to say we manage to politely keep our hands off each other while in the elevator with poor Mrs. Belding, but that would be a lost cause. By the third floor, Jake has pushed me against the wall and is trailing kisses down my neck. Three floors later, we’re practically devouring each other. I snake my leg around his and press into him harder. I can’t keep my lips off his. By the time we stumble out of the elevator, I’m afraid we may have permanently traumatized my neighbor.

  “Get out those keys,” Jake growls as we hurry down the hall to my apartment.

  Once we get inside my living room, we can’t wait another nanosecond. It’s clear how much both of us had been wanting to be together. I’m certain the fire in his eye mimics the heat coming from my own. This is what I’d been dreaming of for the last six months—Jake’s body pressed against mine, his tongue against mine. For a rough man he has unbelievable soft lips. The way he sucks gently on my bottom lip takes my breath away. This is why I’ve avoided dating, because I knew no other kiss could ever compare to this.

  As I yank his shirt out of his pants, he starts fumbling with the tiny zipper in the back of my dress. It’s not easy for him with his fingers as they are. After a minute of trying… well, it’s a good thing I’m a multimillionaire because he destroys that dress. He rips it right off me like it was made from paper.

  I’ve never had a guy I’ve been dating want me so badly that he ripped my dress right off my body. Desire emanates from Jake, like the heat radiated off him that day he tried to teach me to chop firewood.

  And I want him just as bad.

  Jake scoops me up off the floor effortlessly. It’s startling but oh so masculine. Never have I been taken like this before by a man. I straddle him, but he’s supporting me so firmly that I don’t have to do much at all. He carries me into my bedroom, where he gently lowers me on top of the sheets. The covers are still messy from this morning and for once I’m glad I was too lazy to make the bed. He rips the covers out of the way, discarding them to the floor.

  But instead of climbing on top of me like I expected, he remains at the foot of the bed, where he gazes at me for several seconds. The look on his face is a mixture of desire and tenderness. It tells me he wants me, but that he also cares for me and wants to take his time. My heart squeezes in my chest. Finally, he bends over and pulls my now damp panties off my legs and spreads them apart. I gasp as he lowers his head, murmuring as much to himself as to me, “I’ve been dreaming about doing this for the last six months.”

  Oh my God, I can’t believe Jake is going down on me. Usually I have to beg and plead for it, and maybe—maybe—I get it if it’s my birthday or some other special occasion. But Jake gets in there and takes his time, like this really is what he’s been dreaming of. And as my eyes roll back in my head I believe it, because damn, is he good at it. I clutch strands of his dark hair between my fingers, trying to hold out as long as I can because I want to enjoy this. But ultimately, it’s a lost cause—the sensation is far too intense. I throw my head back and scream. It’s okay—the walls in this place are really thick.

  As soon as my body goes limp, Jake lifts his head and crawls on top of me. I’ve seen the outline of his chest before through undershirts, but when he actually pulls off his shirt, I can’t help but suck in a breath. God, his chest is incredible—all tight muscles standing at attention. He brushes sweaty strands of hair from my face just before his lips press to mine.

  His erection strains against me and I’m more than ready to feel him inside of me. I pull back from his kiss. “Condom, nightstand drawer,” I manage to whisper.

  He grabs it and fumbles with the packaging due to his lack of digits. After a few frustrating seconds, I reach over to help him out with it, but before I can, he rips it open with his teeth. I smile at his eagerness.

  “You want me to put it on you?” I murmur.

  “Yes, please.”

  I help him out and glide it on. And let’s just say he hasn’t only been blessed with height in stature.

  He thrusts into me and those glorious lips of his are pressed back on mine as we rock back and forth. I climax again before he gets his own release, clutching me tightly to his hard chest and then collapsing onto the bed beside me. He’s breathing hard, but not as hard as I am. My ears are actually ringing—I’m scared I might pass out. Maybe I need to keep a paper bag handy when we make love, so I don’t hyperventilate.

  “That was so great,” Jake breathes, as he stares at me like he wants to go again. I’m up for it, as long as he gives me a few minutes to catch my breath.

  “No.” I trace my fingers over the thick scars on his thigh, where the shattered bones were repaired. “That was beyond great.”

  “You’re right.” He grins at me. “You’re really something else, Princess.”

  I’m something? He’s the one who ripped my dress right off my body. He’s the one who gave me earth-shattering orgasms.

  “Now,” he says, “how about that dinner?”

  I gasp and clutch my chest. “Are you ordering me to the kitchen to make you dinner?”

  “Just the opposite.” He sits up in bed. “I’m going to make you a gourmet dinner.”

  I laugh. “Oh really?”

  “Yep.” He reaches for his boxers, abandoned on the floor. “You inspired me. I took a few lessons, and I’m not awful anymore.”

  “Not awful—wow. I can’t wait.”

  He squeezes my bare thigh. “Don’t worry. This dinner is going to be the best thing you ever tasted. You’re going to love it.”

  I struggle into a sitting position, which isn’t easy considering I’m still dizzy from all the heavy breathing. He sure made good on his promise to rock my world. “Hey,” I say.

  He grins at me. “Hey yourself.”

  “I have a question for you.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “What’s my tell?”

  His dark eyebrows bunch together. “What?”

  “When we were playing poker,” I remind him, “you told me I had a tell that gave me away. You told me it was playing with my earring, but then you admitted you were lying.”

  “That I did.”

  I smack him in his muscled arm, although what I really want to do is run my hands along it. Why are muscles so damn sexy? Especially Jake’s muscles. “So you’re really not going to tell me what it really is?”

  “Mmm… I think… no. I won’t.”

  I grit my teeth. I have to admit, I’ve wondered a lot about my tell. He seemed so confident of when I was lying or telling the truth. It drove me crazy to think there was something I did that gave me away like that.

  “Please?” I say. I run my hand from his knee up his thigh as he sucks in a breath. “I can make it worth your while…”

  He watches me do this for a moment, and just when I know I’ve got him hooked, I pull my hand away. “All right,” I say, “now tell me the truth.”

  He laughs. “Wow, you’re manipulative, aren’t you? Okay, fine.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Yes…?”

  “You don’t…” He smiles crookedly. “You don’t actually have a tell. I made that up.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, nothing specific.” He shrugs. “But… I don’t know… your eyes are like this window into your soul. I can just look into your eyes and know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  I frown. “Is that a detective thing?”

  “I think it’s more of a Natalie thing.” He trac
es the line of my jaw with his finger. “I just felt like I knew you right away. Yes, I’m good at reading people, but… it was different with you.” He scoots closer to me on the bed. “Did you feel that way too?”

  “No, I was mostly terrified you were going to kill me.”

  “Well, honestly, it was a toss-up,” he says. “Kill you or fall in love with you. Either way.”

  He leans in to kiss me again, the idea of dinner completely forgotten. It might not have been love at first sight, but I’ve never felt this way about another person in my entire life. There were a lot of firsts I got to cross off my list prior to turning thirty, but the only one that was really important was my first time falling in love.

  THE END

  Dear readers,

  Thank you so much for reading Cabin Fever! If you enjoyed the book and the characters, it would help me tremendously to get a review on Amazon. If you are not an author, you may not realize it, but those things mean the world to me. Please.

  Just to make things easy, the site on Amazon is here: https://www.amazon.com/Cabin-Fever-Annabelle-Costa-ebook/dp/B07R45JHQK/. And as always, I would love to hear from you at razberripie@gmail.com.

  Thank you once again to all my readers!

  Annabelle Costa

  P.S. Keep reading for a book excerpt after the acknowledgments!

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank Avery Kingston for being a great beta reader and also helping to create an amazing cover. Thank you to J. Saman for being an eternal source of no-nonsense feedback and support. Thank you to Molly Mirren, who is always a source of great feedback and good grammar and finding pesky typos. And thank you to Geralyn Corcillo for your always straight to the point advice.

  Now turn the page for an excerpt from my book, My Perfect Ex-Boyfriend…

  My Perfect Ex-Boyfriend

  Lily is in rare form on the Amtrak train down to Maryland.

  It’s like she read a magazine article before the trip on how best to annoy your parents during a long train ride. First she’s hungry. That’s an easy one—we feed her. Then she’s sick to her stomach from the food she just ate and wants me to fix it somehow. Then she’s bored. So bored. Soooo boooooored. I brought a stack of activity books for the train, but none of them hold the slightest interest for her. She starts kicking the seat in front of her, oblivious to the glares from the passenger unfortunate enough to be sitting there.

  Now, with twenty minutes left until we arrive at the Baltimore station, Lily has gotten stuck in an endless loop. For the last hour, every five minutes, she has asked, “Are we there yet?”

  I thought kids saying “are we there yet” was one of those stereotypes about kids that doesn’t really happen. But I assure you, it does really happen. Over and over and over. And there’s no way to stop it. No way for me to say “not yet” or give her a sense of the arrival time that will keep her from asking.

  “Are we there yet?” Lily whines.

  “Not yet, Lily!” snaps my father. Even he’s lost his patience with her.

  Lily’s never been yelled at before by Grandpa, and immediately, her little heart-shaped face crumples. And now she’s wailing hysterically. She’s six years old and she’s louder than the newborn infant two rows down. I’m scared someone’s going to throw us off this moving train.

  Dad is profusely apologizing for his outburst when my cell phone rings. I see Theo’s number on the screen and consider not answering. I’m not in the mood for Theo right now. Well, I’m never in the mood for Theo, but especially not now. But then again, it will be a break from the monotony of this ride and Lily’s screaming.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Hey, Bailey,” he says. “I was just thinking about taking Lily out for dinner tonight. Maybe we could go see Catdog.”

  “Dogcat,” I correct him, although I’m not sure why.

  “Sure—that,” Theo says.

  “Too late,” I say. “I already took her last weekend after you bailed.”

  “Fine,” Theo says. “I’ll take her to some other movie.”

  “Sorry,” I say, even though I don’t feel at all sorry. “We’re taking a trip to Maryland for the week. We’re actually almost there.”

  “What?” Theo has a temper. It’s one of the many, many things I’ve come to dislike about him. And it’s flaring up right now. “You never told me you were taking Lily to Maryland!”

  “It didn’t even occur to me that you’d care,” I reply honestly.

  “You’re supposed to tell me when you take Lily on a trip!”

  “Yeah, well, you’re supposed to pay me child support.”

  Theo snorts. “Are you trying to shame me, Bailey? You know I pay what I can.”

  Yeah, and that’s apparently nothing.

  “Look,” I say, “I don’t know what to tell you, Theo. We’re nearly in Baltimore.”

  “Are you going with some guy?” he growls. “Is that what this is about?”

  Ha. That’s so far from the truth, it’s depressing. But I’m not going to tell him about my father and offer any window into my life.

  “It’s none of your business,” I say.

  “The hell it’s not!” Theo yells. “Lily is my daughter! You can’t just jet her off wherever you want with your… your man-whore!”

  Back when Theo and I were married, I had to listen to him scream his head off at me when his temper was flaring. Fortunately, we’re not married anymore. So I can click the “end” button and our conversation is over. He calls me back immediately, but I put my phone on “silent” and shove it back in my purse. If only I could temporarily put Lily on “silent,” this would be a great trip.

  I hear the conductor announcing overhead that the next stop is Baltimore. I breathe a sigh of relief. “How are we getting to the cabin?” I ask my father. “Do we need to call a taxi?”

  Dad shakes his head as the train whistle sounds overhead. “Gwen’s son is picking us up at the station.”

  “The son’s here?” I imagined that Gwen’s son was lending us an empty cabin to stay in. I didn’t know we were going to have to share it with the son and likely his family. Fabulous.

  Dad nods. “I haven’t met him either, so Gwen thought this would be a nice introduction for everyone. He sounds like a nice kid.”

  Kid? How old is this guy? Old enough to drive and old enough to own a place in Manhattan and a cabin in Maryland. Of course, my father probably still refers to me as a kid, so for all I know, this guy could be fifty.

  “How are we supposed to know it’s him?” I ask. “Is he going to be holding up one of those big signs that says, ‘CHAPIN’?”

  He laughs. “Maybe. I don’t know—I didn’t ask her. Apparently, he thinks he’ll be able to find us.”

  The train skids to a halt at the Baltimore station. I stand up, stretching out the crick in my neck from the long ride. Lily leaps out of her seat and smooths out the dress she’s chosen to meet her new step-grandmother-to-be. The dress has a lot of cats on it. And when I say that, you might be imagining a dress that has three or four cats on it, so let me rescue you from that delusion. Every inch of this dress is covered in multicolored pictures of cats. It’s almost dizzying how many cats are on her dress. There’s got to be, like, fifty of them. It’s her favorite dress.

  “Come on, Lily,” I say as I grab my duffel bags down from the compartment above the seats. My father was bright enough to purchase luggage on wheels, but I was apparently not. All our clothes and supplies for the week are stuffed into these two giant bags. Well, aside from the few things I fit into Lily’s miniscule backpack. I hope Gwen’s son is strong and likes carrying luggage.

  We dismount the train, my father holding Lily’s hand as I struggle with my two pieces of luggage. I really hope this guy is waiting for us and we don’t have to look everywhere for him. Dad is looking around, shading his eyes from the sun with his hand. That’s when I notice that there’s a man walking in the opposite direction of the passengers coming off the tra
in. He’s clearly coming toward us.

  It’s very sunny and I squint to see him better. The first thing I notice is the tousled dark blond hair and strong, solid build—this is a guy who should have no trouble throwing a couple of duffel bags over his broad shoulders. As he gets closer, I can see the muscles filling out his blue T-shirt. Damn, this guy is a hottie.

  And then his features come into better focus. The stubble on his chin. The blue eyes. The solid jaw.

  Oh my God.

  It’s Noah.

  Oh no.

  Purchase a copy of My Perfect Ex-Boyfriend today!