Wild at Heart Page 8

“Yeah?”

He peers up at me, his gaze hooded in the low cast of lamplight. I remember the first time I saw those icy blue eyes—a gorgeous feature that he had kept hidden behind sunglasses and an acerbic personality. “We’ve got all the time in the world to talk about that. But, right now?” He grips my hips with his rough, strong hands and pulls my body flush against his pelvis. The rock-hard ridge of his erection is impossible to miss. “If I’m not inside you in the next three minutes, I’m gonna die.”

I giggle, even as my body flushes with heat. “And you call me dramatic.”

“I’m serious. I’ll die right here, in George’s cabin. The superstitious bastard’ll never step foot in here again.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” I say with mock seriousness, collecting his angular jaw between my palms. His face is impressively handsome, his features strong and masculine, and yet with those high cheekbones, pouty, full lips, and long lashes make him almost pretty.

Jonah’s grin flashes with wicked intent. “No. Not when they’ve been so generous, lending us this place.”

“Right. The least we can do is make sure he can come back.” With a playful smile, I grind my hips against him, earning a whispered curse. I lean in and grant him a soft, teasing kiss, the tip of my tongue tracing his bottom lip before sliding in to stroke his mouth.

Jonah’s fingers dig into my hips. “I wasn’t kidding about the three minutes.” I squeal as he shifts me off his lap and onto my back, sprawled on the futon. His hasty fingers hook around the elastic band of my leggings and panties and he tugs them down, his heated gaze rapt on every inch of me that he exposes in the process. In seconds, the last of my clothes has been stripped off me, socks and all.

I watch with greedy anticipation as he stands and shucks his clothes in record time. His body is perfect—powerful and well proportioned, his skin a golden olive, even in the dead of winter. I still haven’t decided what my favorite part of Jonah’s body is: his broad, cut shoulders, his columnar neck, the way his collarbones jut out around the pads of chest muscle, or the impressive cut of his pelvis, leading down to the part that’s thick and velvety-skinned, and currently rigid, waiting for attention.

He dives in to cover my slight body with his massive one, settling his weight between my thighs. “I’ve thought about this moment every minute of every day for the last month.” His fingers curl within mine as he stretches my arms above my head, pinning them to the mattress.

Our mouths find each other with hunger, our teeth clinking and nipping, our tongues stroking, our lips bruising as we taste and kiss with reckless abandon.

“It’s been three minutes,” I whisper, my inner muscles flexing with expectation. I rock my hips against him, seeking out his hard tip, lining it up with my body’s entrance, aching to feel him inside me again.

He sinks deep with a single thrust and a moan.

And the eerie silence in the cabin fills with the heady sounds of our long-awaited reunion.

“Calla …”

“Calla, wake up.”

I groan as a hand jostles my shoulder.

“Seriously, Calla, you’ve gotta see this.”

“What time is it?” I murmur, unwilling to open my eyes.

“Almost one a.m.”

I let out a second groan, this one louder and laced with heavy annoyance, as I pull the blanket over my head. It was after eleven when we drifted off on the futon, our naked bodies boneless and coiled together, wanting to stay near the fire rather than climb the ladder to the loft. “That’s five in Toronto. If I get up, I’m screwed for the night.”

“You’re screwed either way. Get up.”

The hint of excitement in Jonah’s voice is what has me unfurling myself and peering into the darkness. Jonah must have stoked the fire because the vibrant glow from the woodstove provides enough light to see.

He looms over me in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips, showing off that intoxicating V of his pelvis. My hormones spike instinctively and I reach for him, my fingertips grazing his belly button, the dark trail of hair, lower … until I’m palming his flaccid but still impressive length. “Come back to bed.”

He chuckles but takes a quick step out of my reach. He tosses my leggings, shirt, and plaid jacket at me, then reaches for his own shirt. “After. We’re goin’ outside.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” I tug on my clothes and trail him to the door, stopping long enough to shove my feet into my boots and pull on my parka and gloves. I make a point of shivering loudly as I follow him into the frigid cold, the shock of its icy fingers like a slap to my cheek.

All my complaints vanish the second I take in the shimmering green and blue lights that sway and surge and dance in the clear night sky, illuminating the expanse of stars above us and the frozen, snow-covered lake below.

“The northern lights!” I exclaim, mesmerized. It’s as if the heavens have come to life.

Jonah shifts to stand behind me, draping his arms around my body, cocooning me in his warmth. “This is one of the best places in the world to see them.” He presses his lips against my cheek. “That’s why I wanted to bring you up here.”

I gape at the spectacular light show, stunned. “Is it like this all the time?” I can’t even see the stars back home, the city lights too bright.

“On a clear, dark night? Yeah, there’s a good chance you’ll catch them, especially in the winter. But you have to be watching for them.”

“God, this is … incredible! I need to get my camera—”

“No.” His grip of me tightens, keeping me in place. “I’ll bring you up another time and you can sit out here all night, freezing your ass off and taking a million pictures. I promise. But tonight, this is for you and me. It’s our moment.” He rests his chin on my head. “The first night of the rest of our lives.”

I relax into him. “Does everyone know you’re such a romantic?”

“Shut up.” His deep chuckle tickles my ear. “I figured you’d like seeing this.”

“I love seeing this.” I curl my gloved hand around his. “Thank you.” Is this what a life with Jonah means? Will he whisk me away to remote places and shown me awe-inspiring wonders? Things I had no idea about and things I may have heard about but never realized how much I would appreciate?

Because if that’s the case, I’ll never get enough of this new life with him.

His arms squeeze me tight. “Merry Christmas, Barbie.”

I tip my head back to catch his lips with mine. “Merry Christmas, you big, angry yeti.”

Chapter Five

January

“Simon burned the tops of his feet so bad, his skin blistered. He had to wear the hotel slippers from the resort all the way home.” I hold my gloved hand in the air before me, studying the complex crystal pattern of a snowflake before it melts against my body heat. If that’s even possible, given it’s cold enough to make my nose hairs stick together. At least it’ll be sunny, Jonah promised me over our morning coffee. “Mom made him use a wheelchair in the airport. He argued with her at first and caused this huge scene. Well, as much of a scene as Simon can cause. But then he remembered, through his ‘acute, unyielding pain, to whom he is married and surrendered posthaste.’” A laugh escapes my lips as I mimic Simon’s uppity British accent.