Page 4 of Curvy Cabin Fever

DAMIEN

I t’s four in the afternoon, and I’m still fucking tired.

It’s the kind of exhaustion you feel in your bones, the heaviness at the back of your eyes forcing your eyelids to close.

I don’t bother to suppress the yawn stretching across my mouth.

Morgan shoots me a look, his mouth twitching, brows pulling together like he’s about to lecture me.

But then he meets my stare—the slight lift of my brow, the silent warning—and thinks better of it.

Smart move.

The cabin door swings open, letting in a sharp gust of icy air before a woman steps inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold and snow clinging to her pink puffer jacket.

Well, hello .

Charged silence stretches between us as she stares, wide eyed. Her gaze shifts from each of us to the next, before landing on me. I stare back, openly admiring her curves that are still visible underneath those thick layers.

Her dark hair spills over her shoulders, making the pink of the jacket even brighter, her lips forming a small ‘o’ as she straightens up. She’s small, probably only five two, give or take, but goddamn, she’s pretty.

“Oh!” she says, her voice husky and breathless, and just like that, my dick is paying attention.

Rhett speaks first, his brows knitting together as he steps forward.“Are you lost?”

I watch as the pretty girl flushes a deep red, her hand patting at her jacket like she’s looking for something, fingers fumbling. She bites her lip, dark hair tumbling in her face. My mind immediately goes to places it shouldn’t.

Imagining her hot and sweaty, on top of me…

“I booked this cabin…” Her voice is soft, uncertain, trailing off as she digs around in her pockets, finally pulling out her phone. She swipes at the screen, and I notice she’s trembling.

Is it from the cold? Or from us?

Hard to tell.

She’s still swiping at her phone, but her hands are shaking too much to hit the right buttons. Her brows pinch together, frustration flickering across her face.

Morgan takes a step forward like he’s about to help her. I don’t know why it bothers me, but it does.

“Let me see,” he offers kindly.

I exhale through my nose and cross my arms, eyes narrowing.

She hesitates, teeth sinking into that full fucking bottom lip, and my jaw tightens.

Fuck, she needs to stop doing that.

“I—” She exhales sharply, flustered. “I have the booking confirmation somewhere.”

She shifts her weight, and I can’t help but watch her curves move with her. My fingers twitch at my side.

Not ideal. Not fucking ideal.

“That won’t be necessary,” Rhett comments, rubbing a hand over his jaw. His voice is still calm, but there’s an edge to it now.

I can see it in the way his shoulders go rigid, in the slight tension in his jaw. He knows this isn’t just some lost tourist.

He’s fucked up somehow, and I don’t know whether to thank him or cuss him out.

But then my gaze moves back to the woman, and I decide to thank him later. This is the kind of fuck up that I can deal with.

The woman blows out another breath, frustrated as she glares down at the screen.

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “No mobile signal.”

Obviously. We’re in the fucking mountains.

I could give her the Wi-Fi password… but where’s the fun in that?

I can’t help but roll my eyes, and she catches it, dropping her gaze quickly.

Cute .

She clutches her phone and stares at Rhett before forcing a shaky smile. I can see her mind weighing up the situation she’s in, and it’s like a fucking porn movie.

Pretty girl. Alone . No reception. Three strange men staring at her like she’s either a problem or an answer to one.

She swallows, and I watch her throat move. She’s scared.

Interesting.

Morgan, ever the peacemaker, flashes her a smile, trying to soften the moment. “It’s okay. Just tell us what happened.”

Morgan is great with women. He has more female friends than he does male, and he’s already working on putting her at ease.

Her gaze flicks to him, wary, then moves to Rhett. She hasn’t looked at me since she saw me roll my eyes. I know she can feel my eyes on her, but she refuses to acknowledge it.

Why?

I lean against the wall, arms still crossed over my chest, and I wait.

Because I want to watch her a little longer.

Her breath catches slightly, barely noticeable. But I notice.

“I booked online…through Airbnb.”

She continues to tremble, and I can’t help the amusement that pulls at the corners of my mouth.

“I paid directly.” Her eyes widen with relief as she finds what she’s looking for on her phone, thrusting the screen toward Morgan.

Morgan takes it, his brow furrowing as he scans the screen, then slides his gaze to Rhett. “It’s legit. She’s booked it.”

Rhett’s eyes flash with annoyance as he takes the phone from Morgan. He sighs heavily before running a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening.

“Shit.”

The girl stiffens.

I smile.

This is getting interesting.

“It’s okay,” Morgan says, hands raised in a peace offering. “We can sort this.”

I snort, and all eyes turn to me.“How, Morgan?” I can’t help it—what solution is he going to come up with? She sleeps on the sofa for however long she’s booked?

Hardly.

Not when she’s paid for a three-bedroom cabin.

The girl swallows again.

Fuck, I can’t help but watch her throat bob. Or notice how soft the skin looks. And I really shouldn’t imagine marking it, leaving bruises that bloom beneath my lips.

But here we are.

“Well…” Morgan frowns and looks at Rhett, because it’s his property, his problem.

What’s he going to suggest?

Rhett doesn’t answer right away, and the room is thick with tension.

The wind howls around the cabin and the lights flicker, and I almost chuckle with glee.

This is too good .

If the lights go out, I’m getting a mask and having some fun.

“Why don’t you take your coat off, and I’ll make you a cup of tea or coffee?” Morgan offers, before adding quickly, “While we work this out.”

She hesitates, her fingers curling around the edges of her coat.

And I feel it . Again .

That maddening, unwelcome, attraction.

I should ignore it, let Rhett sort this out and let Morgan pacify her.

Instead—

“You could sleep in my room, with me,” I remark casually, watching as she turns to me, her lips parted.

She’s stunned.

Of course, she is—a strange man just offered her his bed, with him still in it.

“ Damien .” Rhett stares at the ceiling, like he’s summoning patience from above. His shoulders slump, exhausted. “That’s not happening.”

But I’m not looking at Rhett.

I’m looking at her .

And I see it, the excitement and fear in her eyes, and I cannot resist.

“Good job it’s not your decision to make then, Rhett.” I tilt my head, my gaze never leaving hers. “It’s hers.”

A gasp leaves her lips, and I want to cross the room and swallow it.

I keep her in my sights, and it’s like time stops when our eyes lock.

“What’s your name?” The words slip from my mouth too easily, but I can’t take them back. I’m talking too much, but I can’t fucking help it.

A pause.

An inhale.

Then—

“Aria.”

Well, fuck . She could’ve been called anything, but Aria? It’s the name of a goddess and so fucking suited to her.

My lips twitch.

Pretty .

“Aria,” I repeat, letting the name roll from my tongue and into the air between us.“I like it.”

I see the way her breath catches, her tongue sweeping across those plump fucking lips. She plays with the edges of her coat again, like she’s wondering whether to stay or run.

Stay .

“For fuck’s sake,” Rhett mutters, rubbing a hand down his face.

Morgan clears his throat and beckons Aria over to the kitchen counter where he’s making tea.

“Let’s get warm and talk about this properly.”

Properly?

Was my suggestion not proper?

Morgan glares at me, but Aria?

She smiles.

And fuck, I want to see that every day for the rest of my life.