He got up and made his way to the steps, climbing them quietly in case he was wrong, and she was fine, cocooned in his warm bed, asleep. In case it was just him who couldn't fight his draw to her. Would it be wrong to think that an attractive woman would appreciate the company of an attractive man? That wasn’t necessarily true in every case with every woman, but he had felt something from her. Noticed something in her eyes when he had caught her looking at him, almost felt the pull of her attraction to him. It was that strong, and he had a good feeling she had felt his too. Coming up the steps, he saw her. Her movements ceased, and she sat upright. He grinned slowly, knowing her cheeks must have been blushing red in the darkness. He had caught her.
"Why'd you stop?" he asked. He whispered even though they were both awake, and it was just them in any case for miles. She pulled the covers up to her neck, hiding herself. She was silent as he approached the bed. She watched his dark figure approach and released the covers when he pulled them from her hands. He threw them aside, looking down at her. "I want to watch."
She swallowed, trying to wet her throat that suddenly became parched. Her face was hot, and her hands shook, but her arousal was keen, throbbing from her core.
"Natalie," he said to her. There was a command in his voice. That and a dangerous edge of desire. He had told her what he wanted. Part of her wanted to see what he would do if she defied him. The other wished a light was on so she could see his face as he watched her. She flattened onto her back, maintaining eye contact with him in the dark. She brought her fingers, already wet with her arousal, to her mouth and wet them with her tongue. Her hand disappeared into her clothes, to her aching folds. Sighing as she pleasured herself, she closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation.
His weight as he joined her on the bed made her aware of his presence. She opened her eyes. They adjusted, seeing him as he disrobed. For the second time that night she wished there was more light. His hands groped in the dark for her clothes. She aided him, raising her hips off the bed so he could strip her. When they were both naked, he moved on top of her. Maybe it was the feeling of her bare skin against his or the anticipation of having her, but the moment their lips found each other in the dark, he was gone. Any semblance of restraint left him.
His hands moved across her skin, frantic and demanding. His lips bruised hers, kissing harder, deeper. His body claimed hers. She felt at one moment his hard member pressed between his abdomen and hers, then the next, pressure at her core as its thick crown penetrated her. Deeper and deeper still until she completely engulfed him. Heat rushed through her. Wanton desire urged her hips up to meet his as he thrust into her. His body was hard. The solid muscles of his back and arms rippled under her hands. He kissed her neck, chest, and face as her heat embraced him.
There was nothing then, only them. The sounds of their flesh meeting, their sighs of pleasure, the heat from their friction and the waves they both rode, hurtling towards their release. He was immersed in her, her feel, her scent, her heated flesh. He was close, so close but couldn't let himself fall. When she cried out below him and her fingernails stung the skin on his back and shoulder where she held him, his body responded, ejaculating powerfully into her. She whispered his name in his ear, holding him where he was. He looked at her, but her eyes were closed. He ran a hand over her face, kissing her.
"Natalie," he said. "Natalie."
I was sweating. Was I asleep? I opened my eyes. It was dark. It took me a few minutes to realize I was alone. I was alone, and I was still fully dressed. It hadn't happened. I closed my eyes, covering my face. Oh god. Oh my fucking god, what the fuck.
I sat up and scrambled out of the bed, padding carefully down the steps to the floor. The fire was smaller but was still going. On the couch, asleep on his side, was Cameron. I hurried to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. What the hell, Natalie. No, no you did not just have a fucking sex dream about that man out there.
No. It had been a long day. I was tired. I was in a strange place, and I was on edge. That was it. I wasn't attracted to my dead boss' son.
Ha, I thought. Maybe if I repeated it to myself enough times, it would start being true. It wasn't true. It was the farthest thing from the truth, but that wasn't even the worst part. I didn’t buy into the dream analysis stuff. A sex dream with someone I didn’t want to fuck, I would have questioned. One about someone I was attracted to, who I also happened to be snowed in with, was pretty obvious in its meaning.
And what, I thought, coming out of the bathroom and walking back up to the loft. You like him. Congratulations. Unless you want to spend the rest of your time here tiptoeing around him, you are going to keep that to yourself. He was Cameron Porter. He owned the fucking company I worked for. He had just lost his parents. It didn't matter how much I wanted to kiss him. This could never turn into anything. Sex had to be the last thing on his mind. A relationship? Totally off his radar.
A relationship, Natalie? Seriously? I had to reel it in. There was nothing between Cameron and I, and it was going to stay that way. That wasn't what he was looking for, and I knew better than to push it. It had to be two, maybe even three or four more days here though. If I had another dream like that... I got back into the bed and stared up at the ceiling, afraid to fall asleep. He could never know, I thought. He would never know.
Chapter Seventeen
Cameron
She got up before I did. I had panicked a little hearing another person in the cabin before I remembered that I wasn't alone. I wasn't in my bed; I was on the couch. Natalie was here. Still here. I stretched and sat up on the couch, scrubbing my hands over my face and hair. Well, you did it. You lasted one night; you can last another.
Since moving out to the cabin, I had been getting up at sunrise every day. Last night had been hell, and it hadn't been the fire keeping me up. It had been her: the woman in my bed who I couldn't fucking touch. No, it wasn't her fault; I couldn't be mad because I couldn't have her. She had gone out of her way to make sure I was okay up here. I looked over my shoulder and saw her in the kitchen. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and the sleeves of her white sweater were rolled up her arms as she cooked.
I watched her moving through the kitchen for a few seconds. I had been asking myself how I hadn't talked to her or otherwise made a move since she had started working at the company, but then here we were. We never would have gotten to this place without all the fucked-up shit that had happened so far. People always said dark clouds had silver linings...
"Oh. You're up," she said, smiling over her shoulder at me. This was new. I had woken up to an empty house for too many years now by choice. It was a frosty Sunday morning and Natalie was making us breakfast in my kitchen. I didn't wish I was alone now. I smiled at her.
"So are you."
"Did you sleep okay?" she asked. The couple hours I had gotten when I wasn't distracted having her so close, yeah, but those hadn't been many.
"Fine," I said shortly. "You didn't have to do that by the way."
"What? Cook? You made dinner last night. I took your bed; it was the least I could do," she said with another smile over her shoulder. Watching her there, suddenly there was a part of me that always wanted to see Natalie in my kitchen first thing in the morning preparing breakfast for the two of us. This should have felt more uncomfortable. I should have felt crowded, annoyed that she was there and I couldn't kick her out. Stop it, I thought. Fucking stop. You made it one night; you can make it the rest. You're staying up here; she isn't. She isn't the last beautiful woman you'll ever meet. It's been too long. She's right there; that's why you want her. Every excuse in the book ran through my head, and none of them were working. I cleared my throat.
"Is it still snowing?" I asked, trying to stop the cycle of my thoughts.
"A little, but it's definitely let up since yesterday," she said. I went over to the door and let myself out. The cold felt like walking into a wall. There was little to no wind, but everything was blanketed in white. I could see our cars out there almost totally covered in snow, and the usually clear path from the road to the house was completely obscured. I had gotten myself a snow shovel but wasn't looking forward to trying to tackle that mess. The snow was still falling, but it was light. If it went on the whole day though, it would probably add a couple inches to the already thick cover we had. Traveling was totally out of the question, but I had known that. I had just needed confirmation that this torture was going to continue so I could start to prepare myself.
I grabbed some wood from the pile to buy myself some time before going back inside. Just a couple more days, I thought darkly. You want her to leave and stay at the same time; fucking relax. Don't do anything
you or she is going to regret. I walked back inside and went over to the fireplace, building another flame.
"How's it looking out there?" she asked from the kitchen.
"Not great. I hope you weren't busy today."