Page 50 of Curvy Cabin Fever

“It’s so hard…” I admit gruffly, hating the way my eyes prick with tears I’ll never let fall.

“What is?” Morgan prods, his right hand moving to stroke my cheek.

Thoughts of Morgan with Aria, with other men, withanyone…

It fucking kills me.

And even though I know it’s wrong and can’t do anything about it, maybe I can tell him this.

Just this.

My voice breaks with the weight of my confession. “Seeing you with someone else.”

17

ARIA

My eyes flutter open, and I go to stretch, stilling when I realize there are strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tight. I twist to see Damien’s dark hair against my pale skin and almost pinch myself.

How is thisgodso interested inme? And not just him—Morgan, too.

My cheeks flush. If my friends could see me now, I don’t know what they’d say.

Jeannie would probably tell me to crack on, whereas Laura would clutch her pearls. She doesn’t mean to be such a prude; it’s her upbringing. And what would my delightful ex think?

Fuck him.

As though he senses my thoughts, Damien lifts his head to gaze at me, his dark green eyes assessing me in that cute, concerned way he has.

“What’s wrong?” his voice rumbles, sexy and still rough with sleep.

I inhale and reach for his messy hair, losing my fingers in it. “Nothing now.”

“Bad dream?” he presses, raising his brows.

I shake my head as his hands pull me closer to him, pressing my back against his warm, hard stomach.

And that’s not the only thing that’s hard.

“Well, what then?” Damien huffs, reaching out to grab my wrist as it snakes down to play with his dick.

My eyes widen, and it’s my turn to raise a brow. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

Damien scoffs and lifts my hand to his lips, kissing the soft skin of my wrist before he answers. My skin tingles, and I clench my thighs together.

“I always want you to touch me, but I also want to know what’s bothering you. It’s not just about fucking, Aria.”

I suck in a breath. He’s right, though—last night, we slept solidly in each other’s arms, no sex or kissing, just comfort and sleep.

“I was wondering what people would think of me,” I confide, closing my eyes as my cheeks flame. “Of me doing…” I let my words trail off as he chuckles, pressing a kiss to my upper back.

How the fuck is that erotic? Being kissed on the back?

But it is.

I shiver, and he finishes, “Two men at once?”

I twist my head and gape at him, but he shrugs, rolling me onto my back. I yank at the covers, not wanting him to see my flab. I don’t care what he says about loving every inch of my body—I amnotcomfortable exposing it to him or anyone else.